The circular arena thrummed with mana, its ancient stone walls echoing he faint pulse of Haven’s cliffs. Fin stepped through the inner door, his tantō tapping rhythmically against his thigh, messy black hair catching the blue glow of mana lamps that ringed the space. The weapon, simple, elegant, deadly, had become an extension of himself over these past three years. Its weight was a comfort in the hollow silence that greeted his entrance.
Balconies loomed above, carved directly into the rock, observation galleries packed with parents and instructors, their murmurs forming a low, expectant hum that pressed against his ears. Fin scanned the crowd briefly, catching sight of Donovan’s stern face and Cahira’s encouraging nod before returning his attention to the arena. Below, the floor gleamed, polished black stone traced with intricate runes that flickered underfoot, responding to his presence, his mana, like living things.
Three instructors stood in the center, their silver robes glinting in the blue light, faces deliberately blank masks that revealed nothing of their thoughts. The woman from the Resonance Orb, steel-gray hair pulled into a tight bun, flint eyes that missed nothing, towered over her colleagues: a wiry man with a scarred cheek that twisted his otherwise symmetrical features, and a shorter woman clutching a thick leather-bound ledger to her chest like a shield. Before them, a pedestal of carved obsidian held a cloudy white orb, faintly pulsing with inner light, roughly the size of a melon.
“Fin Aodh,” the central instructor said, her voice sharp enough to cut the air between them. “Skill demonstration, two phases.” She gestured to the orb with a hand adorned with silver rings, each etched with tiny runes. “First, mana capacity. Fill this orb, its brightness reflects your reserve. Begin.”
The galleries hushed as Fin nodded, stepping forward with measured strides. His heartbeat was steady, controlled, a rhythm Equilibrium maintained despite the tension that hung in the room like a physical presence. The orb’s surface chilled his palm when he touched it, smooth as glass but somehow alive, responsive.
His mana had always been too much, triple the baseline, a gift from Kailos, the being who’d killed him on Earth with a stray bolt, and reincarnated him here as amends, flooding him with power that most Tier Ones couldn’t dream of possessing. Convergent Equilibrium had grown with it over the years, balancing and swelling that reserve until it was a vast ocean contained within his thirteen-year-old frame. Now it churned beneath his skin, full, capped, Tier Two ready and straining against the limits of his current rank.
He exhaled slowly through his nose, letting his mana spill out in what he thought was a controlled stream. The orb flared immediately, white to yellow, then a blinding gold that outshone the mana lamps overhead. Whispers swelled from the galleries above, a rising tide of disbelief. Fin pushed a fraction harder, Equilibrium humming beneath his skin, steadying the torrent of power that wanted to rush forth all at once.
The orb quaked in his palm, light surging in waves that cast dramatic shadows across the faces of the instructors, then cracked. A sharp snap echoed through the arena as the orb shattered, crystalline shards skittering across the stone floor like ice on a frozen lake.
Silence fell, thick and sudden, as if the sound had been sucked from the room. The instructors blinked in unison, the wiry man flinching back a half-step as if expecting an explosion to follow. Fin withdrew his hand calmly, shards crunching beneath his boot as he shifted his weight, face deliberately blank despite the adrenaline pulse that Equilibrium smoothly tamed.
"Faulty orb," the central instructor muttered, her frown carving deep lines around her mouth. "Uncommon, but not unheard of." She nodded to the ledger woman, who hurried away and returned moments later with another orb, cloudy white, seemingly identical to the first. "Again. Slower this time."
Fin's jaw tightened imperceptibly. Slower? He'd barely tapped it. His capacity had always been way above the norm, that was nothing new, and Equilibrium had stretched it further since he had the original skill. He reached out again, touching the new orb with just his fingertips this time, throttling the flow of mana like he'd done with Lightning earlier that day. Golden light bloomed again within the cloudy depths, brightening steadily, then snap. The second orb burst with even greater force than the first, fragments scattering across the arena floor in a glittering spray.
The galleries erupted, gasps, murmurs, a stifled laugh from somewhere to his right. The central instructor’s eyebrow arched high, her flint eyes narrowing to slits as she studied him with new intensity. “Two shattered,” she said, voice dry as dead leaves. “No manufacturing flaw here.” The scarred man scribbled frantically on a piece of parchment, muttering about “threshold limits” and “capacity anomalies,” while the ledger woman simple stared, her book hanging limb at her side.
Fin stood motionless, keeping his breathing even, feeling Equilibrium's calming influence spread through his limbs. He sensed danger here, attention he didn't want. Breaking one orb could be dismissed; breaking two would raise questions, invite scrutiny. Yet he couldn't have contained himself further without appearing to resist the test altogether.
"Enough," the central instructor snapped, cutting through the rising murmurs. "Capacity exceeds standard measurement capabilities, recorded as exceptional." She made a sharp gesture and the scarred man ceased his muttering. "We will proceed to phase two: combat assessment."
Fin stepped back, casually brushing glass shards from his palm, Equilibrium smoothing his nerves. Exceptional was safe enough, better than "anomaly" or "unprecedented." Donovan's oath rang clear in his memory, hide the Embodied, mask the excess, keep them guessing but never confirming. The galleries hushed again as the instructors shifted to a raised platform at the edge of the arena, clearing the central floor.
One by one, the other initiates were called forward to test their mana capacity. Fin watched with careful attention, mentally cataloging each result. Most illuminated the orb to varying shades of white or pale yellow, standard Tier One levels. Two managed what he assumed was a high amount of mana for their rank, pushing the orb to a warm amber glow that earned approving nods from the instructors. But none achieved anything close to the blinding gold he'd produced, let alone shattered the measuring device.
The ledger woman made meticulous notes after each demonstration, occasionally exchanging quiet words with her colleagues. The central instructor's expression remained impassive throughout, though her eyes lingered on Fin more than once during the proceedings, calculation evident in her gaze.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
And then stage two began.
A grate rumbled open in the floor, stone grinding against stone. A Tier One beast shambled out into the arena light, a stone boar, its rocky hide covering matted fur, tusks chipped but sharp enough to gore, eyes glowing a dull red. Fin tilted his head slightly as he assessed the threat, it moved with ponderous slowness. Not weak, certainly, but compared to the Eastern Reaches ants or Kilian's brutal training drills, it might as well have been moving through sludge.
His body, forged by Equilibrium and three years of relentless training, felt mid-Tier Two at minimum, reflexes and strength far outstripping his nominal rank. He could sense the difference between himself and his peers; it was as obvious as the gap between a seasoned warrior and a child playing with wooden swords.
Others tested first. Fin joined nineteen other initiates from Chamber Three on a stone bench along the arena's edge, Rebecca, pink hair gleaming, bow held loosely in her hands, seated nearby. The rest, mostly fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds, fidgeted nervously, eyeing the stone boar with varying degrees of apprehension.
"First: Calden, Torin," the scarred instructor barked, consulting his parchment. A lanky boy with a spear shuffled forward, sweat already beading on his forehead despite the cool air. The boar charged, slow to Fin's perception, but clearly not to Torin's. He flailed with his spear, missing twice as the beast circled, then finally managed to stab its flank when it charged again. It squealed, a sound like stone grinding on stone, thrashing violently; he stumbled back, panting heavily as it slowly bled out, ichor pooling on the arena floor. The instructors noted the performance with clinical detachment, unmoved by either the display or the boy's obvious relief at surviving.
"Adequate," the central instructor said flatly. "Next: Branwell, Sera."
A stocky girl with a war hammer stepped forward, determination etched into her features. She handled the weapon with practiced ease, displaying medium effort as she dodged the boar's initial charge, pivoted, and brought the hammer down with a resounding crack onto its skull. The beast collapsed immediately, twitching once before going still. The girl stepped back, breathing hard but clearly pleased with her performance.
"Efficient," noted the scarred instructor, making another mark on his parchment.
A wiry kid with twin daggers was next, slashing at the boar's legs with quick strikes, taking a glancing hit to his thigh that sent him stumbling before he recovered and finished the job. He limped off the arena floor, face pale but set with grim satisfaction.
Most struggled visibly, some felled the beast with considerable strain, others barely remained standing afterward. A few displayed flashes of real talent amidst their obvious inexperience. One in particular shone above the rest: a lean boy with a staff who dispatched his boar with precise strikes to its snout and spine, medium difficulty at most, resulting in a clean, efficient kill. The instructors nodded in unison at this display, a faint spark of approval lighting their otherwise impassive faces.
Fin watched it all with arms crossed, mentally dissecting each approach, each technique. The boar's pace continued to baffle him, surely a Tier One beast shouldn't feel this tame, even to his enhanced senses. But his body, honed beyond what any normal thirteen-year-old should be capable of, thrummed with untapped power. His mana reserves, courtesy of Kailos's "gift," combined with his physique, sculpted by Equilibrium's relentless work, made him something altogether different from his peers.
He was a wolf among puppies, and he knew it. The challenge was making sure no one else realized just how vast that difference truly was.
"Last: Aodh, Fin," the central instructor called, her voice carrying across the now-bloodied arena floor.
Fin rose smoothly, tantō secured at his hip, crossing to the center of the space with measured strides. The grate groaned open once more, another stone boar, fresh for the final test, tusks gleaming wickedly in the blue light. It snorted, a sound like small rocks tumbling down a hillside, pawed at the stone floor leaving scratch marks, then lunged forward with surprising speed for its bulk.
Fin didn’t flinch. His right hand flared with light, orange-red energy coiling around his fingers as Plasma Compression Burst ignited. He’d been working on this skill for years, refining it until its level capped out. The mana gathered, compressed, focused, a tight sphere of destructive potential that hummed with barely restrained power. He flicked it out with a casual gesture, the sphere rocketing forward along a perfect trajectory.
It struck the boar mid charge, boom. The beast didn’t simply fall it burst apart in a spectacular display of raw power, hide and bone spraying in a charred arc across the arena floor. It was dead before the largest pieces landed, scattered like a puzzle no one would ever reassemble.
Silence slammed down, absolute, ringing in the ears. The galleries froze, breaths caught collectively in dozens of throats. The instructors stared, parchment and ledger momentarily forgotten in their hands. Rebecca's bow slipped an inch from her grasp, her jaw slack with astonishment. The central instructor's flint eyes widened briefly, the first genuine emotion she'd displayed, then sharpened again with keen interest.
Fin shook out his hand nonchalantly, orange light fading from his fingertips, Equilibrium humming steady beneath his skin, keeping his expression neutral despite the surge of satisfaction he felt. One shot, maybe too much power, but he'd kept Thunderfang leashed, at least.
"Combat assessment concluded," the central instructor said, voice taut with something unreadable. "Aodh, pass. Exceptional rating, both phases."
The scarred man scribbled frantically, muttering, "Tier One, sure," under his breath with unmistakable skepticism. The ledger woman snapped her book shut with a loud crack, expression dazed as if she'd been struck. Fin turned away casually, tantō tapping against his thigh in that familiar rhythm, walking back toward the bench as the silence stretched, unbroken, heavy with implications.
Above in the galleries, Donovan's firm clap pierced the quiet, deliberately paced, authoritative. Cahira's joined seconds later, and then a slow ripple of applause spread through the observation deck, building gradually from stunned silence to grudging recognition. Fin sat down on the stone bench, face carefully blank, staring at the charred smear on the stone that had been a living creature moments before.
Haven's cliffs pulsed beyond the glass walls, mana whispers riding invisible currents, answering something deep in his core, something that Equilibrium couldn't quite dampen. He'd shown them enough to pass, to stand out but not alarm. But even that had been a risk. The instructors' faces told him everything: they'd seen something they couldn't fully comprehend, and in this world, the unknown was rarely left uninvestigated.
Beside him, Rebecca leaned closer, voice barely audible over the growing murmurs in the arena.
“What was that?” she whispered, eyes wide. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Fin shrugged, a practiced gesture of casual dismissal. “Just a skill I’ve been working on.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, unconvinced. “That wasn’t ‘just’ anything.”
Before he could respond, the central instructor’s voice cut through the noise.
“It’s time for the final assessment. We’ll call you into our conference room one by one. Parents and guardians, you may wait outside in the courtyard. Initiates, be prepared.”
The crowd began to disperse, but Fin could feel the weight of dozens of eyes following his every move as he stood and made his way toward the exit. The tantō tapped steadily against his thigh, one-two, one-two, a rhythm to focus on while Equilibrium worked to keep his expression neutral, his gait relaxed.
He’d drawn attention. Attention was a double-edged sword, whether it cut him depended on what came next.