Chapter 75: Academy Trial(2)

The vast expanse of the Supreme Evolution Academy’s testing grounds was a staggering spectacle of scale and power. Far from being confined to a single arena, the grand entrance trials were simultaneously dispersed across twenty distinct Hidden Realms and pocket-dimension trial grounds embedded deep within the academy’s independent plane.

Within these twenty shifting domains, anywhere from ten to twenty thousand elite candidates—scouted from every corner of the known world—were currently locked in fierce competition. The sheer volume of participants underscored the staggering reach of the empires and sects that fed talent into the academy each year.

High above the central trial grounds, suspended within a magnificent observation chamber crafted entirely from pristine white jade and polished quartz, sat the academy’s ruling authorities.

The grand chamber was breathtaking in its architecture—its soaring vaulted ceilings were inlaid with shimmering star-stone constellations, and colossal arched windows offered a panoramic view of all twenty trial realms below. In the center of the chamber, the supreme Principal, Ancestor Vane, hovered motionlessly in mid-air.

Sitting cross-legged in a meditative posture, his eyes were closed as he immersed himself in deep, profound cosmic concentration.

Standing attentively nearby was the academy’s Vice-Principal, a stern, imposing middle-aged man with sharp facial features, a neatly trimmed iron-grey beard, and eyes that burned with cold, calculating intellect. Surrounding them were over a hundred elite academy teachers and elders.

Each instructor had their gaze locked onto specific magic-scrying mirrors floating before them, closely monitoring their favored students—imperial princes, grand dukes’ heirs, and the designated champions of the continent’s most powerful religious orders.

The delegation of the Church of Magic and Knowledge was heavily watched, alongside representatives from the Church of Thunder and Wind, the Church of War God, the Church of Eternity, and the Church of Light. Each of these formidable religious bodies had dispatched their brightest young prospects, future pillars who would wield immense influence across both the churches and the secular empires.

Among the sea of scrying mirrors, the Vice-Principal kept a sharp, experienced eye on the prominent figures. But suddenly, his brows furrowed deeply. His gaze snapped toward a specific scrying projection, and his breath hitched.

Within the scrying mirror, moving through one of the peripheral trial realms, was a young man in simple grey applicant robes. It was Ethan.

The Vice-Principal’s eyes widened in genuine disbelief. What shocked him wasn’t just Ethan’s presence, but an impossibility that defied all laws of arcane mechanics:

Ethan wasn’t just in one realm.

The Vice-Principal quickly swept his scrying focus across the other trial domains. To his absolute horror, scrying reflections of Ethan—wearing the exact same grey robes, carrying the exact same expression—were active in multiple separate Hidden Realms simultaneously!

’How... is this possible?’ the Vice-Principal thought, a cold sweat beading on his neck. ’Even a master dark mage utilizing high-tier blood-magic clones should only be able to maintain one or two physical projections at best. But this boy... he has spread dozens of clones across entirely different pocket dimensions! How is he maintaining absolute mental synchronicity and physical control across closed spatial barriers?’

The implications were staggering. If Ethan’s main body was hidden inside one of the realms, controlling multiple cross-dimensional clones simultaneously would drain a human soul dry within minutes, causing the projections to instantly collapse. But if his real body was stationed outside of all the trial realms, then controlling so many avatars across closed spaces with such seamless precision was a feat of willpower and spellcraft that even senior Rank 6 archmages had failed to achieve.

Suddenly, the Vice-Principal’s eyes began to glow with a brilliant, luminous blue light. Deep within his pupils, ancient, swirling mystical golden runes manifested, spinning like microscopic galaxies.

Through these transcendent eyes, the true nature of Ethan’s clones became visible: every single avatar flickered with faint, intricate strands of dark-blue mana energy weaving through the air.

"What is he planning...?" the Vice-Principal murmured aloud, his voice tense. "Does this boy have no intention of honestly joining the trial? What are these clones searching for?"

"It seems you have noticed him as well, Vice-Principal," a calm, melodic voice interrupted from beside him.

The Vice-Principal turned to see a female instructor stepping forward. She was a striking woman with voluminous, curly brown hair that cascaded past her shoulders, striking violet eyes that seemed to hold centuries of hidden knowledge, and flowing purple ceremonial robes embroidered with silver arcane circles that rustled softly with every step.

It was Professor Lyra, the academy’s foremost expert in ancient spellcrafting and dimensional theory.

"Professor Lyra," the Vice-Principal addressed her, his glowing blue eyes fixed on the scrying mirrors. "You see this candidate? He has manifested clones across nearly every active trial realm. I suspect his real body must be hidden somewhere nearby, but my spiritual perception cannot pierce his concealment. Do you recognize this magic?"

Professor Lyra chuckled softly, a light, musical sound that echoed in the grand chamber. "Vice-Principal, if you spent as much time studying ancient pre-cataclysm grimoires as you do managing enrollment paperwork, you wouldn’t need to guess."

Without waiting for a reply, Lyra stepped up to the massive scrying array. She raised a slender hand, her fingers tracing intricate geometric patterns in the air as she chanted a silent, archaic spell in a forgotten tongue.

ZAP!

A thread of invisible, binding resonance snapped outward from her fingertips, reaching across the spatial barriers and latching directly onto one of Ethan’s distant clones. Even without Ethan’s consent, her spell forcibly seized a single strand of his circulating mana, using it as an energetic anchor.

FZZZ—!

Like pulling a thread from a tapestry, Lyra’s spell traced the mana resonance backward, bypassing spatial folds, anti-divination wards, and natural barriers, until it violently locked onto a precise coordinate just outside the outer perimeter of the main trial grounds.

"Got him," Lyra smiled faintly, pointing a finger toward a blank sector on the outer scrying map.

The Vice-Principal immediately directed his mystical blue eyes toward the indicated location. There, hidden in plain sight right beneath an ancient stone bridge just outside the trial boundary, flickered a shimmering, nearly imperceptible distortion in space.

It was an invisible spatial barrier.

And safely nestled within that hidden fold of space sat Ethan’s true, physical body—completely motionless, eyes closed in deep meditation, effortlessly orchestrating his network of clones across all twenty hidden realms.

The Vice-Principal stared at the real body in profound shock. "An absolute spatial-invisibility array... He bypassed the academy’s perimeter sensors entirely. Just what kind of heritage does this boy possess?"

"His spellcraft is ancient, but his ambition is far more dangerous," Professor Lyra noted, her violet eyes narrowing slightly. "Shall we pull him out?"

"No," the Vice-Principal replied slowly, the blue light fading from his eyes as a cold smile touched his lips. "Let’s see how much chaos he can cause before someone finally forces his hand."

---

Miles away, deep within the humid, shadow-draped ravines of the Void-Timber Secret Realm, the atmosphere had reached a boiling point.

Thick mist swirled around the jagged stone pillars, while the air thrummed with dangerous, volatile elemental energy. At the center of a wide crater cleared by previous shockwaves, three formidable figures stood locked in a tense, murderous standoff.

On one side stood Arthur, his white-and-gold holy robes fluttering in the wind, his hand resting firmly on the hilt of his broadsword. The golden, divine resonance of the Flame Sword Bone radiated from his chest, casting a warm, blinding glow across the damp earth.

Beside him stood Kael, his face twisted in a sneer of arrogant contempt as he gripped his runic staff, ready to unleash another devastating burst of holy light magic.

It was a special artifact given to him personally by the Church because he still couldn’t properly utilize his Warrior physique.

Opposite them stood Keklar, maintaining his human disguise through his newly evolved Slime Transformation. His dark hair clung to his sweat-slicked forehead, and his crimson-tinged eyes burned with an animalistic, predatory fury. He could feel the immense power of his Rank 3 Major physique humming beneath his skin, aching to tear these two arrogant humans limb from limb.

"You’ve run out of paths, commoner" Arthur’s voice cut through the silence like a drawn blade. His eyes were cold, filled with the absolute authority of the Church. "Surrender your accumulated Void Tokens immediately, and we may spare you from permanent disqualification."

Keklar let out a low, mocking chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. "Surrender? To a couple of pampered lapdogs hiding behind the Church’s robes? You mortals really overestimate your worth."

Kael’s face flushed with furious anger. "You arrogant piece of trash! You dare speak to Arthur—the chosen prodigy of the holy realm—like that?!"

Without waiting for another word, Kael thrust his staff forward.

SCREEECH!

A torrential storm of blazing white holy arrows erupted from the tip of the staff, tearing through the air with enough piercing force to puncture solid steel. At the exact same second, Arthur moved with terrifying speed, vanishing in a flash of golden light and reappearing directly above Keklar, his broadsword descending in a devastating, downward vertical slash that split the air apart.

BOOM—!

Keklar didn’t flinch. Activating his Iron-Hide and channeling his newly acquired troll regeneration, he threw his arms upward, meeting Arthur’s glowing blade with his bare, hardened forearms.

CLANG!

A violent shockwave of kinetic energy blasted outward, shattering the surrounding trees and sending crater-like cracks rippling across the rocky ground. Kael’s holy arrows slammed relentlessly into Keklar’s back, leaving his grey cloak smoking, but Keklar merely gritted his teeth, his monstrous strength absorbing the brunt of the assault.

"Is that all the Church has?!" Keklar roared, a savage grin spreading across his face as dark, corrosive mana flared from his palms. He counterattacked instantly, unleashing a brutal, acid-laced punch straight toward Arthur’s ribs.

Arthur’s combat instincts, honed through countless near-death encounters, saved him at the microsecond. He twisted his body, parrying with the flat of his sword, but the sheer corrosive weight of Keklar’s blow still sent him skidding backward across the dirt.

As the battle escalated into a ferocious, earth-shattering melee of flashing swords, holy beams, and dark physical dominance—with steel clashing against bone and flame magic shockwaves tearing the ravine apart—something unnatural happened.

The temperature in the ravine plummeted instantly.

The humid, mossy air froze over in a fraction of a second, coating the shattered rocks in a thick layer of black, frost-laced slime. The ambient sounds of the forest—the howling winds, the distant monster roars—were abruptly swallowed by an oppressive, suffocating silence.

Arthur, Kael, and Keklar stopped trading blows simultaneously, their instincts screaming a primal warning as they snapped their heads toward the sky.

High above the ravine, coiling lazily through the thick canopy of ancient trees, was a monstrosity of nightmares.

It was a colossal Void Serpent—a legendary beast spanning over a hundred feet in length, its scales crafted from pure, light-absorbing darkness. Its single, glowing crimson eye stared down at the three combatants with an expression of cold, predatory hunger, while noxious black mist leaked from its gaping maw, dissolving the foliage beneath it upon contact.

The sheer, suffocating pressure of a peak Rank 4 boss-tier entity instantly descended upon the clearing, eclipsing the tension of their duel.

The grand battle was abruptly brought to a dead halt as the terrifying shadow of the serpent loomed over them all.