Twenty-two students of Octa House stood in a straight line under the stern gaze of the High Warden. It was the day of the student trials: the magic duels. Each student was paired with another in a test of individual strength and compatibility. Where all Octa nobels and common folks gathered. A ceremony of introduction of new house legends and heroes .
A heavy thud echoed across the arena as Thierry, a determined mage, unleashed a summoning fire spell. His opponent,lord Julian of house Elliot , countered swiftly with a water spell. Smoke, heat, and vapor clashed in the air as the two students battled fiercely. Julian, with a deft motion, activated two runes and zigzagged across the field, conjuring mini portals that fired black thorns. This advanced spell, known as Death Thorns, was a rare and complex technique reserved for elite mages and Haliems, accessible to only a select few due to its intricate nature.
Thierry, undeterred, made a desperate gamble, channeling all his mana to summon the fire spirit Enflame . The air filled with ash as the spirit's flames roared, burning through the thorns. But Julian's portals were relentless, multiplying and accelerating the thorns' onslaught like a pack of wild beasts. The flames couldn't cover every angle, and in a split second, the thorns overwhelmed Thierry's defenses, impaling him across his body. He collapsed, lifeless, on the ground.
The Warden raised his hand sharply to the left, conjuring a magical wall between Julian and Thierry to halt the duel. Julian stood victorious, his posture predatory, like a wild cat savoring its prey.
Adam, watching from the sidelines, felt a surge of anger. He rushed to Thierry's side, placing his ear against his chest. "Call the healers! He's still conscious!" he shouted. To his shock, the other students and onlookers showed no concern, resuming their activities as if nothing had happened. It dawned on Adam that he was not just facing a physical enemy but the cold, power-obsessed mindset of Octa House, where status and strength ruled over compassion. The Warden cast a life-preserving spell around Thierry, stabilizing him long enough for the healers to arrive.
"Next!" the Warden bellowed.
The duels continued, each pair stepping into the arena ,a specially designed ground coated with protective magic, allowing high-level mages to spar without affecting the outside world. Victors emerged, and the defeated limped away, but the trials pressed on relentlessly.
When it was Cole's turn, he stepped into the arena trembling. The horrific memory of Julian's brutal victory haunted him, painting his mind blank with fear. His steps faltered, his breath quickened, and every instinct screamed for him to flee. Overwhelmed, Cole bolted from the arena like a frightened child.
Laughter and jeers erupted from the crowd. Even the defeated students mocked him, finding solace in the fact that they were not Cole. To them, a lowborn's life was worthless defeat was better than cowardice. No one cared if you died when you lacked status.
The Warden's voice cut through the noise. "Last chance, boy."
Cole returned, mustering what courage he could. But as he stepped into the arena, he unknowingly triggered a trap. The ground beneath him glowed with a hidden pattern, activated the moment he entered. The duel had been rigged from the start every move orchestrated to lead to this moment. The spell, called manique, ensnared Cole, turning him into a puppet under his opponent's control. His body moved against his will, ramming into a wall repeatedly. Blood streamed from his wounds as he staggered up, only to repeat the motion.
Adam, watching in horror, felt a dark rage awaken within him. He charged at the arena's magical barrier, pounding against it with all his strength, but it wouldn't budge. The Warden noticed a flicker in the barrier's energy, destabilized by Adam's relentless blows, and reinforced it with a swift gesture.
Tears streamed down Adam's face, each of Cole's collisions a blow to his heart. Then, Cole turned, his bloodied face locking eyes with Adam. A smug smile curled on Cole's lips, and in that moment, Adam understood this was not his fight. He had to trust Cole.
A surge of power erupted from Cole. The air crackled as the arena trembled. There, standing defiant, was the son of the lost beast, Lynx.