Finally, the day of the ceremony arrived. In the blink of an eye, the twelve instructors and the headmaster appeared before the gathered students. The sudden manifestation left many of the noble students in awe, their murmurs of shock rippling through the crowd. Velgrim, however, maintained his composure. “What powerful magic,” he mused inwardly. “How dare a mere 7th-circle mage flaunt their skills in front of me, a former 10th-circle mage.”
The headmaster, a tall figure exuding authority, stepped forward. “Everyone, listen up!” he commanded, his voice booming with magical amplification. “This ceremony will be an interesting one. At this academy, we have a welcoming tradition: the freshmen will spar against the second-year students.”
A wave of disbelief and anxiety swept through the crowd. Some students began to complain, their voices rising in protest. “This is ridiculous! How can we possibly win against the seniors?” others murmured.
Just then, one of the instructors stepped forward, her presence instantly commanding attention. She unsheathed her sword with a sharp, menacing sound, and the very air seemed to grow heavier with her killing intent. This instructor, known as Seraphina, was one of the five sword saints—an elite group of warriors, of which the Ashborne family head was also a member. Seraphina had been a slave in her past life before rising to the status of a sword saint, and her eyes burned with an intensity born of countless battles.
“Silence!” she barked, her voice cutting through the students’ complaints like her blade through flesh. “Are you noble brats so easily frightened? If you’re scared, then leave now!” The force of her words sent a chill through the crowd. Even Velgrim, despite his formidable past, felt a pang of caution. Seraphina’s aura was nothing to underestimate.
The murmurs ceased immediately, and an uneasy silence fell over the assembly. The headmaster nodded approvingly at Seraphina before addressing the students again. “Those who wish to excel must face challenges. This sparring is not just a tradition; it is a test of your resolve and potential.”
Velgrim’s eyes narrowed. This was not just a test for the others; it was an opportunity for him. He needed to gauge the strength of his peers, to understand the power dynamics within the academy. More importantly, he had to ensure his own strength remained hidden until the right moment. The sparring matches would be the perfect opportunity to observe without revealing too much.
The students were divided into groups, each freshman paired with a second-year student. As the matches began, the training grounds filled with the sounds of clashing swords, spells being cast, and the grunts of exertion. Velgrim watched closely, analyzing each movement, each spell, with a critical eye. Lyra, too, stood by his side, her focus unwavering.
When it was finally Velgrim’s turn, he stepped into the sparring ring, facing a senior with a confident smirk. The second-year student eyed him skeptically, clearly underestimating the young noble before him. Velgrim drew his sword, feeling the familiar weight in his hand. He would have to balance his skill, showing enough to win but not enough to draw too much attention.
The signal to start was given, and Velgrim moved with a speed and precision that belied his age. His opponent barely had time to react before Velgrim’s blade was at his throat, the match over in seconds. Gasps of surprise echoed around the ring, but Velgrim merely bowed and stepped back, his expression unreadable.
Meanwhile, Seraphina watched him closely, her eyes narrowing in thought. There was something different about this boy, something she couldn’t quite place. But for now, she kept her observations to herself, filing away the information for later.
As the day wore on, the matches continued, each one revealing the strengths and weaknesses of the new students. By the end of the ceremony, it was clear who had the potential to rise and who would struggle. Velgrim and Lyra stood among the former, their skills marking them as ones to watch.
As night fell and the students retired to their quarters, Velgrim couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. This academy held more than just the promise of education; it was a battleground for power and prestige. And for Zariel Ravenshadow, now Velgrim Ashborne, it was the first step in a much larger plan. As he lay in bed, he whispered to himself, “I will regain my power, surpass my old self, and reveal the true nature of the gods. This is just the beginning.”
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Twilights of the Gods
Fantasy"Centuries ago, the battle mage who dared to challenge the gods was sealed away in eternal darkness, his name erased from history. But prophecies whispered of his return, and now, after ages of imprisonment, he has been reborn in a world dominated b...
