A pale, misty dawn eradicated the darkness of the academy skies, bringing forth the second day of the trials.

Dancing clouds lingered over the academy grounds, drifting aimlessly, waiting for the sun to send them off.

Yet, there was little peace to be found beneath that morning veil.

For the entire capital was talking about the second trial, and more importantly, Thane.

By now, only two principals of top academies knew about Thane’s background, because both had met him beforehand, showering him in bitter coffee in the process.

Athenok of Blue Leaf Academy and Zoases of the first ranked academy, Golden Crown Academy. The one who personally nurtured Edniot Quintess, whom Thane had as the benchmark of strength since that day.

Thane’s name had escaped the academy walls and spread through taverns, markets, noble estates, and military barracks alike.

Some called him a prodigy, others called him a monster. A few claimed he was neither, but merely a fool blessed with impossible strength.

A person does not perform so well in early trials; his strength is recognized during his second year in the academy when they receive their blessings. This gave a few a reason not to be very optimistic about his future. Early success doesn’t ensure a smooth sail in the future.

That was also the reason Thane’s performance created such a ruckus. If he was that powerful without any blessing, then what shall he become when he receives one? Or would he fall behind?

Whatever the truth, his performance in the Body Trial had shaken the examination.

And with it, it had shaken the pride of many others.

The first rumors appeared before midnight, then came the accusations, and lastly came outrage.

The news spread that the judges and instructors had secretly increased the difficulty of the Body Trial.

Not for all candidates, but for one and only Thane.

According to the news, several instructors had become curious after witnessing his physical gifts.

They had pushed the endurance and pain trials beyond their usual standards merely to discover his limits.

The consequences were immediate. Candidates who had failed by narrow margins became furious.

Families lodged complaints, sponsors protested, and several academy officials demanded investigations.

Whether the rumors were entirely true or not no longer mattered. The Trial Bureau acted swiftly.

Meetings lasted through the night, documents piled up as arguments echoed through the halls of administration until dawn.

By sunrise, a decision had been reached. The second trial would be altered. It was not cancelled nor changed.

As for those who had failed the first unjustly, a second opportunity would be granted. Those eliminated during the first trial would be allowed to participate under the standard conditions and pass criteria for the first time, and probably the last in history.

Hope returned where despair had settled, and suddenly, the examination became larger than ever.

Then came a second piece of news, one even more shocking. The exempted candidates would participate.

The announcement spread through the capital like lightning.

Young nobles, foreign talents, and recommended prodigies.

Individuals from superior backgrounds who had already secured academy admission. They would enter the Second Trial voluntarily, not because they needed to.

Their pride demanded redemption, validation, and a chance to win against the one who overtook their spotlight.

Thane’s performance had challenged them in a way they couldn’t allow. As nobles, they didn’t believe they couldn’t break his records, but they also had to show everyone.

How could future elites of rival nations stand aside while unknown youths captured all the attention?

Thus, the exempted aspirants entered the field.

The names of Donovan Young and Etno Kamsi quickly appeared among them.

Others followed, some from Drevlorn and some from Krynova. Many from powerful clans within Bentram itself.

The atmosphere transformed overnight.

What had been an entrance examination now felt like a gathering of young monsters.

Yet there remained a practical problem.

The numbers, far too many numbers. Thousands wished to participate, but thousands could not.

Even the academy lacked sufficient time. Thus another decision was reached: the field would be narrowed.

After lengthy evaluations and recommendations, only 729 candidates would enter the second trial.

The passed candidates retained their positions. The exempted aspirants joined them.

The most promising among the previously eliminated candidates were selected as replacements.

Seven hundred twenty-nine. No more, no less. A perfect square and a number chosen intentionally.

For the nature of the second trial required structure, and structure required order.

By mid-morning, all 729 candidates stood gathered within the grand arena, the same one where Endiot Quintess and Willa Martinez had fought.

The structure dwarfed even the venue used for the Body Trial, its circular walls surrounded every direction.

Thousands of spectators filled the surrounding seats. Representatives of every major academy occupied private galleries.

Nobles observed from elevated chambers, instructors lined the arena floor.

The noise of the crowd resembled the distant crashing of a restless sea.

Above them all sat the ten judges from the academies, silently waiting with watchful eyes.

The candidates stood upon the vast stone field below. Almost everyone was nervous, rarely any arrogant men, but there were some, silently standing with their heads held high. All ambitious.

And among them stood Thane. His massive frame remained difficult to miss, mumbles followed him wherever he went.

Some pointed at him, others stared openly. The giant himself appeared unaware.

He was busy patting his belly, trying to determine whether breakfast had been sufficient, or whether he would get hungry again before this trial ended.

Before long, one of the judges rose, an elderly woman representing the Fifth Academy.

Her voice reached all ears across the arena without effort. "The Second Trial shall now be explained."

Everyone paid attention. Not a sound was heard but hers.

"The Combat Trial consists of two examinations." She paused before adding, "The first is a three-versus-three group battle." She announced.

Murmurs spread. Many candidates immediately exchanged glances, some appeared relieved and others were alarmed.

Team battles introduced unpredictability. Strength alone was rarely enough, and who they might be paired with had yet to be determined.

It was a tricky situation.

The judge continued. "Candidates shall be assigned into teams. No participant may refuse. No substitutions shall be permitted."

The whispers intensified. Thane instinctively checked other candidates. He didn’t pay attention to the judge; he was aware of the second trial and even the third, thanks to John Prada.

The judge’s gaze swept across the arena.

"It is a test of cooperation and discipline. Many powerful warriors have died because they could not fight beside others."

The arena became silent. The statement carried weight. Even Thane understood it.

The judge raised one finger. "From seven hundred twenty-nine candidates..."

She paused before slowly spitting out the next words, making sure the aspirants remembered them. "Only one hundred twenty-eight shall advance."

The crowd erupted. Even many candidates looked shocked. The elimination rate was brutal.

More than five hundred would fail before the second stage even began.

The judge waited for silence, then continued. "The second examination shall be the true test."

Her voice hardened. "One versus one."

Immediately the atmosphere changed. Every candidate straightened. Every spectator leaned forward.

The words carried a different kind of weight. The First Trial had tested bodies.

The first half of the Second Trial would test teamwork. But the second half, that would test individuals.

The judge’s eyes gleamed. "There shall be no allies, no formations, and no excuses. Only pure combat." She elaborated.

A ripple of anticipation swept through the arena. This was what many had come to see.

This was where reputations would be forged. This was where prodigies would reveal themselves.

And this was where dreams would break. The old woman slowly returned to her seat. Silence lingered heavily.

The sun climbed higher above the arena walls. Golden light spilled across hundreds of waiting candidates.

Some clenched their fists, some whispered prayers, many reviewed strategies, and others merely stared toward the battlefield.

They all prayed for a good team, a team they could work with and survive the trial.

Their hopes rekindled. Some dreamed of entering the Top Ten Academies, some dreamed of glory.

Some dreamed of proving themselves, and some, like Donovan Young, Etno Kamsi, and Thane, were already becoming the center of attention.

Far above, in the private viewing platforms, academy principals watched with interest.

Among them sat Athenok of Blue Leaf Academy.

The middle-aged principal’s gaze naturally found a familiar giant standing among the candidates.

A faint smile appeared upon his face. The game was beginning, and the true talents had yet to reveal themselves.

Below, seven hundred twenty-nine aspirants stood beneath the morning sun.

Awaiting the first battle and the opportunity it gave to change destinies.

Unaware that somewhere beyond the seemingly brutal, yet safe academy walls, there were kingdoms prepared for war, nobles plotted for power, and mercenaries marched toward distant uncertainties for a bit of coin.

Yet for these youths, none of that mattered.

For at that moment, their entire world was nothing but this very arena, the youths, and their future that had yet to shine.

A single trial and the hope that when the dust finally settled, their names would still remain.