Vol 3 Prologue

Every year, the gates of Arianne Academy swung open. Thousands of eager youths poured in, and without fail, the professors began to grumble. And to be fair, they had a point. The academy’s admission tests were dreadful not only for the test takers but also the teachers—not because they were hard, and also not because they were dangerous, but because each year there will always be a few students who made the faculty seriously wonder why they still had their jobs. This year was one of those years.

From the observation tower, the massive grounds stretched out below. A group of professors gathered around a large magical screen showing the participants. An elderly professor absentmindedly stroked his beard. "This year is troublesome."

Another nodded immediately.

"Very."

A third professor looked downright exhausted despite the test not even starting yet.

"And I thought the last two years was already a problem."

"That's because you're getting old."

"I am younger than you."

"Not by far."

The professors paid him no mind; their gaze locked on the list hovering above testing grounds. A list of names that seemed to put everyone on edge.

"First." An elderly woman adjusted her glasses. "The Saint Candidate."

Several professors immediately groaned.

"Why is the Celeste Holy Kingdom sending one this year?"

"Political reasons."

"I hate politics. Why does those people keep bringing this academy in. This is a place for new generations grow up for god sakes."

The magical screen flickered, revealing a silver-haired girl. Draped over her shoulders was a white cloak emblazoned with the crest of the Celeste Holy Kingdom. Apart for few of a few who come with her, those nearby instinctively kept their distance, not due to her actions, but because holy mana poured from her in was an overwhelming, almost unreal amount.

One professor rubbed his forehead.

"Saint Candidate Estelle Celeste."

Another sighed.

"At just fourteen years of age, she had mastered advanced healing techniques and was reputed to possess the extraordinary ability to perform miracles."

The room became silent.

A professor finally spoke.

"That is very impressive."

"It really is."

"I wonder what accomplishments she’ll be able to reach after she graduates from here."

The screen shifted again.

This time, it was toward a girl standing beneath a tree. She had green hair and striking purple eyes. Several floating magical circles spun effortlessly around her—one, two, three, four, five, six—then a seventh appeared. The professors froze in place."..."

"..."

"..."

The youngest professor broke first.

"That's not normal."

"No."

"It absolutely isn't."

The elderly woman sighed.

"Aurelia Maria Edward."

The room immediately understood.

"Ah."

"That explains it. She really inherits her mother's talent."

The Edward family—one of the Empire’s oldest bloodlines—was known for producing monsters hidden behind the guise of scholars. Aurelia, the latest heir, followed in the footsteps of her mother, the famed disciple to the one known as The Beloved. With effortless grace, the girl dismissed all seven spell circles, only to conjure eight in their place. A professor nearly choked.

"WHY."

"No idea."

"She isn't even concentrating on it."

"No idea."

The screen shifted again.

A young man appeared, his crimson hair catching the light. Sharp eyes followed an arrogant expression, and his expensive military uniform just scream of power and status.

The kind of face professors instinctively know that he will be hotheaded.

"Ah."

One professor recognized him instantly.

"The Reinhart boy."

Several others immediately sighed.

"Chester Reinhart?"

"That Chester Reinhart?"

"The same one."

The room collectively looked disappointed.

House Reinhart, a powerful ducal family, had for generations viewed House Kyros as their rivals. Yet, House Kyros never returned the sentiment, leading to centuries of a one-sided rivalry—a truly tragic tale. One professor at Chester. Another looked at the student list.

Then sighed.

"The Kyros heir is also entering this year too."

A professor muttered.

"Poor kid."

"Chester?"

"Yes."

"Agreed."

The screen flickered, shifted once, then again, and suddenly split into two. The professors stared in stunned silence. Pink hair.

"..."

"..."

"..."

One professor slowly lowered his tea.

"There's two of them."

"That tends to happen with twins."

"Thank you for your incredible insight."

The twins stood side by side. One chatted easily with nearby students, radiating confidence. The other hid behind a notebook, avoiding attention. The confident twin wore a businesslike smile that made several older professors instinctively check their wallets, a reaction born from memories of one man in particular. The quiet twin looked like being there was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Elodie Cassandra Markult."

"The Merchant King's chosen successor."

"A terrifying child."

"Agreed."

The screen shifted slightly toward the second twin.

"Edith Cassia Markult."

The professors softened slightly.

"Nice girl."

"Very quiet but very talented also."

The professors nodded.

The Markult twins were well-known, talked about in merchant circles for years. One carried the family’s knack for business, the other its warmth and charm. Together, they made the perfect team.

Then the screen shifted once more.

This time, it was a brown-haired girl with a worn backpack. Simple clothes, no family crest, no noble escort, no fancy accessories—only determination.

One professor smiled.

"Ah."

The others looked over.

"Willow Brew."

A commoner with rare talent, uncovered through regional exams. No noble lineage, no powerful connections, no renowned family name—just sheer, unbelievable ability. The academy adored students like this. The professors admired them. History remembered them. Because stories always favored students like this.

A professor nodded approvingly.

The old woman smiled.

"Future pioneer material."

Several professors agreed.

Willow Brew looked exactly like the sort of student who would become famous one day.

The screen shifted again.

The room fell silent. A blond young man lingered at the edge of the testing grounds. Unlike the others, he wasn’t talking, showing off, training, or mingling. Instead, he sat beneath a tree, fast asleep. "..."

"..."

"..."

"Amos Eos Kyros."

The room fell into a hush, even the older professors straightening in their seats. The name carried weight—not because of the student, but because of his family. House Kyros. One of the Empire’s pillars. The house of Aros and Axios Eos Kyros: one, the strongest human alive; the other, a man who once held the Empire at its throat. A house that solved wars, started them, ended them. Time and again, they sent once-in-a-lifetime talents to the academy, each breaking records previously set by their own kin.

One professor stared at the sleeping boy.

"He's sleeping peacefully."

"Yes."

"The admission test starts in fifteen minutes."

"Yes."

"Shouldn't he be nervous?"

"He's a Kyros."

A younger professor frowned.

"Do we know anything about him?"

"A little bit."

"Little?"

The old woman nodded.

"Remarkably little. Most information on him is when he is just a single digit age"

It instantly drew attention.  

A noble heir with so little public information was rare.  

A Kyros heir with so little public information was unheard of.  

And yet, here they were. 

"Known achievements?"

The professors consulted the reports.

"Almost all of it is of a very average achievement, such as capable of using reinforcement magic decently at 9 years old."

"..."

"That's five years ago."

The younger professor blinked.

Meanwhile, outside, the blond young man yawned in his sleep, casually adjusting the ring on his finger before drifting off again. He remained blissfully unaware—or perhaps simply indifferent—to the fact that an entire tower of professors was watching him.

Far away.

The silver-haired saint candidate cast a glance his way. Aurelia continued her magic practice while stealing a glance, Chester narrowed his eyes toward his rival, Elodie’s curiosity sparked. Willow noticed him as well. A strange feeling swept through them all—like the academy year hadn’t even begun, yet something significant had already arrived. Inside the tower.

One professor slowly sighed.

"This year's class is going to be total nightmare."

Another nodded.

"Agreed."

A third looked at the collection of geniuses gathered below.

The old professor stared at the testing grounds. Then muttered. "I have a bad feeling."

The academy bell rang, a sign that the admission examination was about to begin. And beneath a tree, A blond young man stirred from his slumber and slowly opened his eyes.