Chapter 48: The Announcement

The announcement came in the middle of the third period.

Arthur was seated in the Frequency Tuning lecture hall, listening to the replacement professor explain wavelength matching for multi-caster formations, when every crystal screen in the room flared to life at once.

The same chime that had preceded the Equinox emergency broadcast echoed through the hall. Conversations died instantly. Even the professor stopped mid-sentence and turned toward the nearest screen.

The old vice principal’s face appeared. His expression was formal, almost grim.

"Attention all students of Higher Academy Nocturne.

The preliminary selection for this year’s Grand Magisterium Tournament will now begin.

In three days’ time, a sealed high-difficulty dungeon fragment will be opened on the eastern evaluation platform. All registered participants will be transferred inside simultaneously. The first forty students to reach the central core and imprint their mana signature upon the pillar will advance to the next stage of selection.

There is no restriction on year or house. There is no upper limit on the number of participants. Registration will remain open until sundown tomorrow at the main administrative crystal.

Those who advance will represent the academy in the subsequent internal ranking trials. Those who fail will return to regular curriculum without penalty.

That is all."

The screens went black.

For a moment the lecture hall remained completely silent. Then the noise returned all at once — sharp, overlapping, and filled with disbelief.

"They’re opening it to everyone?"

"First forty only. That’s a slaughter."

"A dungeon fragment? Those things eat people."

"No year restriction? They’re actually letting first-years throw themselves in?"

The professor tried to restore order and failed. After a few unsuccessful attempts she simply dismissed the class early. Students poured into the corridors in dense, talking streams. Arthur gathered his notes and stepped out with the rest of them. Milo found him almost immediately, eyes wide.

"They’re serious," Milo said. "They’re actually running a free-for-all dungeon clearance as the preliminary. Do you know how many second- and third-years are going to enter just to crush the competition early?"

"Most of them," Arthur answered.

They joined the flow of students moving toward the main administrative hall. By the time they arrived the line in front of the registration crystal already stretched down the corridor and out onto the nearest sky bridge. Upper-year students dominated the queue. Their postures were relaxed, almost bored, as if the outcome was already decided. Scattered among them were smaller groups of first- and second-years trying not to look nervous.

Arthur took his place at the end of the line. Milo hesitated, then shook his head.

"I’ll watch this year," he said. "I’m not ready for something that brutal yet. Don’t die, alright?"

Arthur gave a short nod. Milo left with a worried expression.

The line moved slowly. Arthur used the time to listen.

Most of the conversation around him followed the same pattern. The dungeon was an old -realm fragment the academy had kept sealed for decades. It shifted its internal layout. It generated monsters from residual nightmare energy. People who entered unprepared often came out broken even if they survived. The fact that the academy was using it as a simple numbers filter said everything about how seriously they took the Grand Magisterium.

When Arthur finally reached the crystal the senior prefect managing it looked up with the flat expression of someone who had already processed hundreds of names.

"Name, year, house."

"Arthur Vance. First year. House Dawn."

The prefect’s pen paused. He looked at Arthur more carefully, then recorded the information without comment. The crystal glowed once, accepting the registration. Arthur stepped aside.

Behind him someone laughed under their breath.

"The Tier 1 is entering. Brave."

"Or stupid. There’s a difference."

Arthur did not turn around. He moved to the edge of the hall and waited. Ten minutes later Iris Blackthorn entered through the far doors. The conversations nearest to her quieted the way they always did. She walked directly to the crystal, registered with minimal words, and turned to leave.

Her path took her within a few steps of Arthur. Their eyes met for a brief moment. She gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod before continuing toward the Nova exit.

Julian Ironwood registered not long after, followed by Ragna and Celian. By the time the sun began to drop the official list had already been projected onto the large board outside the administrative hall. Hundreds of names glowed in neat rows. Among the first-years only five entries stood out with any real weight:

Arthur Vance

Julian Ironwood

Iris Blackthorn

Ragna

Celian

The reactions were immediate and predictable.

Julian’s participation was accepted without much comment. As House Dawn’s captain and a Tier 7 lightning user he was expected to try. The same applied to Ragna and Celian. Iris’s name drew more attention — a princess entering a lethal free-for-all was unusual enough to fuel speculation. Arthur’s name, however, produced open amusement in several groups.

"He’s the one who fought Julian to a standstill last week, isn’t he?"

"Still a first-year. Still officially Tier 1. The dungeon won’t care about one good spar."

"I’ll bet he doesn’t even make the first hundred."

Arthur read the board once, then walked away.

Evening training still happened. The informal group gathered on the Dawn grounds as usual, but the atmosphere had changed. Every student present had either registered or was still deciding.

The drills were sharper, more aggressive. Arthur corrected forms and demonstrated techniques with the same calm he always used, but his mind was already inside the dungeon, calculating routes and resource management.

When the last student left, Iris remained.

She approached him under the dimming light, Grimoire held loosely at her side.

"You’re entering alone?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Most people are forming parties."

"Parties become liabilities when only the first forty matter," Arthur said. "I’d rather rely on myself."

Iris studied him for a moment. The tiredness under her eyes was more noticeable up close.

"I’ve been preparing," she said quietly. "Perhaps more than I should have."

Arthur looked at her. Mimi’s earlier comment about the Grimoire feeling heavier surfaced in his mind.

"Don’t push your book past its limit before we’re even inside," he said.

Iris’s expression flickered — something between acknowledgment and stubbornness — then smoothed back into her usual calm.

"I’ll see you in the dungeon, Arthur."

She left without waiting for a reply.

Arthur stood alone on the platform as the last light faded from the sky. Above him the academy’s towers glowed against the dark. Three days. Then the fragment would open and the first real filter would begin.

Most of the academy expected the first-years to be among the earliest eliminated.

Arthur had no intention of giving them that satisfaction.

He turned toward the private training wing. Selene would be waiting. There were still applications of Frost Sovereign he needed to refine before the dungeon swallowed them all. And after the training, if the residual frostbite still lingered in her pathways, they would deal with that too.

The announcement had been made.

The countdown had started.