“My name is Salomon… Salomon Vlad King. Headmaster of Virtuoso Academy… Welcome… to greatness.”
His voice was calm—yet vast. Like a wave of cold steel washing over the entire courtyard.
His eyes, as sharp and cutting as his words, scanned the sea of students.
No one dared speak. No one dared move.
Then, without another word, Salomon turned and walked back toward the assembled instructors. His stride was slow, heavy, filled with quiet menace. His coat trailed behind him like the robe of a sovereign emperor. As he took his place, his massive wyvern let out a low rumble of thunder, then lifted off with a gust that kicked up loose stones and pulled cloaks into the air. It vanished into the sky with a final beat of its wings—like a phantom of legend.
The silence held a few seconds longer before murmurs began to stir.
“Was that really the Headmaster…?”
“He rode a wyvern…”
“His eyes. Did you see his eyes?”
“Yeah… he’s scary.”
Tyron stood among the crowd, eyes still fixed on the sky, and he wasn’t listening to any of them.
He felt it.
Something about that man—his presence—had lit a quiet fire deep in his chest. It wasn’t fear. Not entirely. But it was enough to make his heart race.
A call to rise. To be better. To burn away his doubts.
Then—
“Eyes front!” Vice Principal Sakuragi barked.
Everyone straightened up instantly. Like a switch had been flipped.
“You’ve all had your moment to be starstruck. Now let’s get back to reality,” she said. Her tone was clipped and dry. “This is where your trials begin.”
She turned toward the instructors, and with a small nod, Ms. Green stepped forward and passed her a clipboard.
“There are five evaluations you will complete during your time here. You will be tested on: Combat Skill, Mana Control, Mental Aptitude, Ark Proficiency, and Academic Retention.”
Groans rippled through the crowd at the last part.
“Yes,” Sakuragi added with a sigh. “You have to use your brain. Shocking.”
She glanced over the clipboard again before speaking louder. “Today’s first evaluation is Combat Proficiency. You all will take on specially designed combat golems—machines meant to test your strength, stamina, and survival instinct. You’re not here to show off. You’re here to prove that you can adapt and endure.”
She gave a sharp nod toward one of the instructors.
Kento stepped forward, dragging a massive hammer from his back with a heavy metallic thud as it hit the stone floor.
“I’ll be starting you off,” he said, voice raspy and loud, almost growling from behind his half-lit cigarette. “These are what you’ll be dealing with.”
He raised the hammer and slammed it into the ground.
A tremor rolled across the courtyard.
Ten stone panels lit up in a ring—then cracked open.
From within, towering golems began to rise. Humanoid constructs, forged from thick iron plating, carved with mana-forged runes that glowed blue beneath the metal. They stood over 7 feet tall, with long arms, powerful legs, and broad torsos like walking siege towers.
Murmurs spread again. Some students stepped back instinctively.
Kento’s grin stretched wide.
“I designed them to tank 200 to 300 thousand newtons of force,” he said with pride. “Don’t know what a newton is? You probably shouldn’t be here. But for the idiots in the back—” he shot Fredrick a look without naming him, “—that’s a unit of force. A lot of it. Long story short: you can punch them as hard as you want, they’re not going down.”
“We’ll see,” Fredrick muttered under his breath.
Tyron rolled his eyes slightly, catching it. That overconfidence again. Admirable. Stupid. But very Fredrick.
Kento leaned on his hammer like it was a cane. “My rules are simple. You get knocked out in one hit? You’re done. You try some flashy nonsense and hurt yourself or others? You’re done. If I see you’re not takin’ this seriously—guess what?”
“You’re done?” the entire crowd answered at once.
“Now you’re catchin’ on.”
He gestured around. “There’s about a hundred of you. I built ten golems. Five instructors will monitor twenty of you each. Ten-minute rounds. One at a time. You won’t be fighting each other today… you’ll be fighting yourself.”
He let that last line hang.
“This isn’t about winning. It’s about surviving. Let’s see what you’re made of.”
The courtyard shimmered as glowing lines etched themselves into the stone beneath the students’ feet—creating five wide trial sectors. Each one would be monitored by an instructor.
- 11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVIuAhWveym
- Division A – Mr. Kento11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmJ5fTa6ZMo
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11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCdaNkxM9cd - Division B – Mr. Kobushibo Rin11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGt4dzkY0VQ
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11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAQJpksMZmR - Division C – Mr. Fukuro Yuuji11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡocT1EssI4S
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11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ2fZwPTyqf - Division D – Ms. Green Merlin11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4UPS78IHbg
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11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw8bVukZies - Division E – Ms. Void Lunar11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡirFNhEMN1d
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Each sector now housed two golems and twenty students. Two students would enter at a time, each facing a golem solo while their peers watched from the perimeter.
Vice Principal Sakuragi raised her hand. “Your names will be called in pairs. Step forward when you hear yours. Fight well.”
She handed the roster to a nearby assistant, who began reading.
“Sector A – Student one: Fredrick Von Fitzgerald.”
Fredrick stepped forward immediately, striking a pose as his cloak flared behind him.
“Witness the dawn of magnificence,” he declared. “I shall make rubble weep!”
Several students groaned audibly.
“Student two: Ayumi Reikasora.”
A quiet girl with a staff stepped up beside Fredrick, her eyes cautious but focused.
Kento cracked his knuckles. “Step into the ring. One at a time. Fredrick first.”
Fredrick smirked and strolled into the circle, rotating his shoulders.
The golem in front of him straightened, then took a thudding step forward. Its arms locked into combat stance. Runes glowed brighter.
Fredrick exhaled dramatically. “Come, mechanical beast. Let history remember your defeat!”
The moment the trial began, the golem lunged forward—fast.
Too fast.
Fredrick barely twisted aside, his shades flying off his face as a massive fist crushed the stone where he’d been standing. Dust and shards exploded into the air.
“WHOA! That was not regulation speed!” he shouted, already backpedaling.
The crowd laughed. Kento didn’t.
“Focus or get folded,” he barked.
Fredrick’s Ark flared around him—a shimmer of golden force rippling across his arms.
“Ark: Royal Radiance!” he yelled, raising both fists.
He charged, unleashing a flurry of radiant punches that exploded against the golem’s armor. Each hit sent echoes through the courtyard—but the golem didn’t fall. It reeled slightly, adjusted, and retaliated with a sweeping blow that sent Fredrick flying.
He tumbled, rolled, and groaned—then raised a finger.
“I’m… okay…” he gasped. “Not defeated. Just reconsidering life.”
Kento grunted. “Pass. Barely.”
Fredrick lay on his back, dazed but grinning. “Told you I was elite…”
Ayumi stepped forward next. Her battle was less flashy—but far more precise. Her staff movements redirected the golem’s strikes, weaving wind-enhanced counters that chipped away at its balance.
“Time,” Kento called.
Ayumi stepped back, barely winded.
Kento nodded. “Solid instincts. Pass.”
And so, the trials continued. In each sector, students entered—some with confidence, others with trembling limbs. Some displayed potential. Others were swiftly knocked aside, carted off to recovery zones by assistants from Division H.
[Sector B]
Coach Rin shouted like a war general, laughing with pride or yelling encouragement with every strike his students made.
“Hit like you mean it! Don’t run unless it’s part of the plan!”
Kyron Namakazo was one of the first called.
He entered the ring wordlessly.
No Ark activation. No flashy declaration.
Just a calm breath and sharp eyes.
The golem struck—and Kyron moved like water. Each movement was minimal, efficient. He sidestepped, pivoted, and parried its weight with subtle strikes to its joints.
He didn’t win by overpowering it.
He won by never giving it a chance to hit him.
When the round ended, Rin stared at him for a long time—then grinned.
“Remind me never to play chess with you, kid.”
[Sector C]
Fukuro Yuuji watched quietly, eyes like calm pools. His students were measured not on brute strength, but how well they adapted.
Kimiko Kitsune was called next.
She bounced into the ring, tail swaying, smile wide.
“Let’s dance, robo-boy.”
Her Ark shimmered around her—Mirage Phase—and instantly, her body split into flickering illusions.
The golem hesitated, misjudged, and punched air. Kimiko ducked, weaved, and landed hits from angles it couldn’t calculate.
Yuuji nodded approvingly. “Creative use of deception. High marks.”
[Sector D]
Ms. Green Merlin’s sector was more elegant. Her students worked with elemental affinity—air, water, fire, and earth swirling in various arcs.
Luka Toshibura was up.
He entered with a focused breath, summoning bursts of flame from his palms. Each strike of his fists released a short-range detonation. He used combustion for both offense and momentum—rocketing into the air, dodging, and retaliating.
“Ark: Detonova!” he cried, slamming both hands to the ground.
A ring of flame erupted, forcing the golem back several steps.
“Too much output,” Green warned, even as she nodded. “But you’ll grow.”
[Sector E]
Void Lunar leaned lazily on her staff, eyes sharp beneath her mascara-lined gaze.
“Surprise me,” she whispered as her students entered.
And then—
Tyron’s name was called.
Silence fell around him.
He stepped forward, the whispers already starting.
“That’s the Taiōji kid…”
“Isn’t he the one from the fire raid?”
“They say he never uses his Ark…”
Tyron ignored them all.
He entered the ring and stared down the golem.
It moved. So did he.
He fought without his Ark—ducking, sliding, using the minimal movement to avoid strikes. But he wasn’t just dodging.
He was analyzing.
Studying.
Every limb. Every rune.
He timed a movement—spun behind it—and aimed a precise strike at the power sigil on its back.
A burst of sparks.
The golem locked up—just for a second. But it was enough.
Void Lunar tilted her head. “That wasn’t raw strength… that was knowledge.”
Tyron stepped back, breathing evenly.
“Assessment complete,” she said. “You’re not flashy. But you’re dangerous.”
Tyron looked up at the sky once more—just for a moment.
That fire from earlier… it was still there.
Still rising.
Still waiting.
