Sharp beeps echoed across the clearing, followed by flares of crimson light. All around him, candidates flooded into the clearing from every direction.

’It announced my location.’

Despite the situation, Zephyrion’s expression remained calm. It appeared qualifying wasn’t as simple as merely gathering five flags. Afterwards, one had to survive the onslaught of the other candidates.

Zephyrion could see the emotions in their eyes. The moment the candidates realized who the target was, each one reacted with the same darkened expression.

The young lord of Calderalth.

Yet there was no mistaking the desperation in their eyes. There were only two hundred flags in total. Thousands of candidates. Losing five flags was an astronomical setback.

The youths had come from every corner of the South, their families watching their every move. None wanted to be disqualified, especially not in the very first round of the Proving.

The clearing fell into tense silence, no one willing to make the first move. Then finally, one candidate stepped forward.

"Young lord..." the candidate, a broad youth with massive gauntlets wrapped around his arms, bowed slightly. "Joe Guram. House Guram. Look, I really don’t wanna do this... but I kinda need those flags if I don’t wanna get disowned after today."

Zephyrion’s expression remained indifferent.

The youth straightened before lowering into a stance, his eyes sharpening with resolve.

"So... apologies in advance."

He dipped low before launching forward like a cannonball.

"Bull Ram!"

Metal aura spiraled violently around his arm as he drove it forward with the force of a charging beast.

Faced with the attack, Zephyrion slowly raised his arm.

Boom!

"!!!"

The youth, along with the others watching, widened their eyes in shock.

The massive fist that looked capable of smashing through steel had been stopped entirely by Zephyrion’s palm. The ground beneath him remained perfectly intact. He hadn’t budged even an inch.

The youth’s eyes constricted violently.

He had absorbed the entirety of that force...?

Zephyrion closed his palm.

Crack!

"AHHHHHHH!"

A piercing scream tore from the youth as he crashed onto the ground, staring at Zephyrion with an ashen expression. The metal gauntlet around his arm had been completely crushed inward.

Those cold purple eyes met his. The youth froze instantly.

Only now did he realize the grave mistake he had made. He had never stood a chance—

A blur flashed past.

The last thing the youth felt was pain before he was transported away.

The clearing descended into deathlike silence. The Guram House was a mid-tier house in the South, yet their descendant had fallen as though he were insignificant.

Many stared at Zephyrion with trembling eyes. Somehow, his complete and utter silence weighed down heavily upon them.

Individually... none of them could win. But together...

Many swallowed hard. Fists tightened. Teeth clenched as they exchanged wary glances, silently arriving at the same conclusion.

Then, slowly, they began closing in around him.

Across the South, shock rippled through the watching crowd.

"Ha! They’re actually jumping him!"

"There’s like sixty of them! Even he can’t survive that, right?"

"Forget survive, he’s bout to get folded!"

Back in the coliseum, faint smiles appeared on the faces of the city lords.

At a glance, it was obvious Zephyrion had been unlucky enough to appear in a region overflowing with candidates. By collecting the final flag, he had unknowingly drawn an army toward himself.

However, those smiles gradually faded as their gazes shifted toward Garrick.

The drunkard had leaned forward in his seat, an unnatural grin stretched across his face while excitement burned within his eyes.

Once again, the city lords found themselves unable to understand what exactly he was thinking.

Ingrid’s eyes had sharpened slightly as she stared at the screen. Though her expression remained calm and indifferent, her fingers had tightened subtly around the armrest.

The entirety of the South fell into tense silence, every eye fixed upon the unfolding scene.

Then, deep within the forest, the expressions of the candidates turned cold.

"Now!"

They rushed from every direction.

Weapons flashed as numerous rune arts erupted simultaneously, filling the space around Zephyrion with vicious attacks. Their eyes burned with desperation, calculation, and predatory intent.

Such a bombardment would undoubtedly disqualify Zephyrion. But afterwards, he would leave behind five flags to be fought over amongst the sixty-something of them.

Many had already begun planning their next moves when a cold voice sounded out.

"Authority."

The sixty-something candidates froze.

Their bodies was suspended midair as though seized by an invisible force. Trembling eyes slowly turned toward Zephyrion.

His indifferent expression hadn’t changed in the slightest. Yet somehow... they could feel it.

This... this was his doing.

Suddenly, their arms began trembling violently. An unseen force gripped their weapons, slowly forcing them toward their own throats.

The candidates paled instantly.

They struggled desperately, muscles straining as their arms shook uncontrollably. Yet the force suppressing them was absolute.

Their weapons stopped mere inches from piercing their necks before blankets of light suddenly engulfed them, whisking them away.

The forest fell silent.

But the silence swallowing the South was even louder. Most of the South still couldn’t comprehend what they had just witnessed.

Meanwhile, the eyes of the city lords widened to their limits.

Authority...? Had he just said Authority!?

Their expressions paled instantly.

"Mark Six..." City Lord Ociden muttered, shock filling his eyes. "What kind of monstrous joke is this...?"

The others inhaled sharply.

"Oi," Borric said with a deep frown. "Wasn’t he still in Mark Four a few weeks ago?

The other city lords shared the same disbelief. They had all arrived at the event under the assumption Zephyrion was merely in Mark Four. Even if his heaven-defying talent had allowed him to advance, then Mark Five at most.

How was he already in Mark Six!?

Their gazes snapped toward Garrick, demanding answers.

Instead, they were met with a madman.

Garrick’s eyes were stretched so wide they looked ready to burst from their sockets at any moment.

Not even he had expected Zephyrion to already reach Mark Six. Only two weeks had passed since the Choosing!

"Haha..."

A crazed laugh escaped Garrick’s lips. This boy... truly would be the death of him.

A faint frown formed on Ingrid’s face.

’Mark Six...’

Already. For some reason, her fingers tightened further around the armrest.

Like that, the entire South watched in silence as the required time elapsed. Then, a voice echoed out.

"The requirement for qualification has been reached. You have qualified."

A blanket of light engulfed Zephyrion. The next moment, he appeared in the middle of the coliseum.

Zephyrion immediately noticed there were no other youths around him, signifying he had been the first to qualify. Then he felt the countless gazes locked onto him and slowly swept his eyes across the coliseum.

Hundreds of thousands of spectators stared at him in utter silence.

A moment passed. Then an earthshaking roar erupted from the audience.

The sound was so deafening the ground beneath Zephyrion’s feet trembled violently, followed by a powerful gust that sent his clothes billowing wildly.

"Zephyrion! Zephyrion! Zephyrion!"

The chants exploded into thunderous cheers that echoed across the entirety of the South. The people of Calderalth sat straighter with pride, thrilled that one of theirs had become the very first to qualify in the opening round.

Zephyrion accepted it all without the slightest change in expression.

He silently noted the stunned looks on the faces of the city lords and numerous house heads throughout the coliseum.

His use of Authority had caused it.

With the majority of them believing he was still merely in Mark Four, this revelation had shattered their assumptions completely. Once again, in their eyes, he had become an anomaly. Something none of them could comprehend.

He shifted his attention toward the massive screens overhead.

The live footage of the remaining candidates continued playing as the competition steadily neared its conclusion.

Many youths, especially those from the high houses, had already gathered five flags and were desperately fending off swarms of challengers. Though none had faced an assault remotely comparable to Zephyrion’s.

Eventually, numerous lights ignited throughout the coliseum as candidates began appearing one after another.

The first was Vealor Ocren.

He narrowed his eyes at Zephyrion, clearly shocked that someone had qualified before him. Yet in the end, he merely looked away without saying a word.

Next came Kaelion, who also appeared stunned that not one, but two candidates had arrived before him. Yet he too remained silent.

The others gradually appeared afterwards. Lumi. Nedra. Lucien. Draven.

As the number neared forty, Kaiden and Fiona finally appeared as well. Though both looked ragged and exhausted, the excitement burning within their eyes was unmistakable.

As the fortieth candidate appeared, Zephyrion frowned faintly.

’As expected.’

The ward hadn’t qualified. As planned, it was time to deal with that matter.

Zephyrion was pulled from his thoughts as Lumi hurried toward him with sparkling eyes. He immediately shot her a glance, stopping her before she could do whatever she had been about to attempt.

Meanwhile, the crowd had already begun chanting the names of the qualified candidates amidst thunderous cheers.

Still, Zephyrion quietly observed each participant.

Every main descendant from the high houses had qualified.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t encountered any of them personally to acquire their rune arts. However...

’Tomorrow.’

During the one-on-one battles... that would be his opportunity.

Under the deafening cheers of the crowd, the first round of the Proving officially came to an end.