CHAPTER 26: THE TRIAL RESULT (1)

Chapter 26 – The Trail Result (1)

The silence of the riverbank didn’t last.

A sudden blaze of light engulfed the world. It poured down like a storm, searing away blood, ice, and the shattered battlefield. Michael had no chance to resist. The teleportation circle activated, and his battered body was swallowed by radiance.

When his vision cleared, the forest was gone.

Stone stretched beneath him—smooth marble tiles, pale and cold against his boots. Around him, hundreds of cadets materialized in bursts of light, some collapsing to their knees, others staggering upright, gasping for air. The smell of blood, sweat, and smoke clung to their bodies, lingering even though the nightmare of the trial had ended.

Michael’s gaze lifted. He stood inside an enormous Colosseum.

Towering pillars encircled the arena, carved with ancient runes that pulsed faintly as if recognizing their arrival. Above, endless rows of empty seats stretched skyward into shadow, built not for comfort but for spectacle. The sheer scale pressed down on the cadets, as though they had been dropped into the stage of history itself.

The Survival Trial was over.

---

A ripple of power split the air.

From the heavens descended a streak of crimson light, blazing across the Colosseum like a meteor. It struck the center of the arena and coalesced into a tall figure.

A woman.

She stood with commanding poise, clad in obsidian robes embroidered with threads of golden flame. Her fiery hair cascaded like molten copper, and her sharp eyes burned with the heat of authority.

Vice Principal Sophia Emberheart.

The air itself seemed to bow to her presence.

Cadets straightened immediately, fatigue forgotten, spines locked in fearful respect. Even the proud heirs of noble houses didn’t dare meet her gaze for long.

"Congratulations." Her voice cut through the air, clear and resonant, carrying to every corner of the Colosseum. "To those who stand here now—you have survived the entrance trial of Arcadia Academy."

A ripple of emotion surged through the gathered crowd. Some cadets exhaled in raw relief, dropping their weapons and falling to their knees with trembling laughter. Others clenched their fists, eyes shining with pride at their survival. Many simply stood in stunned silence, still processing the nightmare they had endured.

Sophia raised a single hand. Instantly, the murmurs died.

"Tomorrow will be a day of rest," she continued, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "Heal, recover, and prepare yourselves. For what you faced in the forest was nothing but the first step. Arcadia will test you in ways far greater than this."

She snapped her fingers, and golden light erupted above her head. Lines of script etched themselves into the air, expanding into a massive glowing board visible from every corner of the Colosseum.

"Now," Sophia declared, "let us see how you fared."

---

The crowd held its breath.

One by one, names carved themselves into the air, glowing bright against the marble gloom.

#1. Michael Willson – 26,330 pts

#2. Leon Lionheart – 17,560 pts

#3. Edric William – 16,930 pts

#4. Selena Veylan – 16,540 pts

#5. Lyra Braveheart – 15,810 pts

#6. Aiden Stromfang – 15,220 pts

#7. Chris Blackthorn – 14,870 pts

#8. Aurelia Miller – 14,480 pts

#9. Maria Frostheart – 14,340 pts

#10. Zack Sunwood – 14,270 pts

Gasps, shouts, and whispers exploded across the arena.

"Twenty-six thousand?!"

"That’s almost ten thousand higher than second place—!"

"He’s insane...!"

Every eye turned toward the same figure.

Michael Willson.

---

Leon Lionheart

(His crimson eyes stay fixed on Michael’s name. His jaw is rigid, hands loose at his sides but trembling faintly.)

:Almost ten thousand ahead... That gap isn’t skill alone. It’s survival instinct sharpened like steel. He’s no noble, but... he fought like one.’

A beat passes. Leon exhales through his nose, controlled, though his pride stings.

But the Lionheart name won’t bow. My bloodline won’t lose. Not for long.

Leon quietly, almost to himself

"You’ll bleed that lead out sooner than you think, Michael Willson."

---

Edric William

Edric’s handsome face contorts as his eyes rake over the board. His fingers twitch at his side. Ren Bellon, his loyal lackey, stays silent at his shoulder.

’How dare they cheer for him? A nameless brat, climbing above me, above the William family? Impossible. I did everything right. I executed perfectly. So how—’

His teeth grind. His voice sharp, low enough for only Ren to hear.

"Remember this, Ren. Commoners shine bright only when nobles allow it. He’s an anomaly. One that won’t last."

Ren (glances at him):

"...Of course, Edric."

But Ren’s silence after says more than words: even he doubts it.

---

Selena Veylan

Her violet eyes linger on Michael’s glowing numbers, her lips parted slightly. She stands tall, back straight, but her hands are clasped too tightly in front of her, knuckles whitening.

’Even after all my training, all my spells, all my precision... I’m still that far behind. I should feel anger. I should feel shame.’

But memory stabs her as Michael standing, defiant, bleeding, teeth gritted against the sharks’ frenzy. Her heart betrays her with a faint, unsteady thrum.

Selena spoke softly, under her breath

"...Unyielding."

She shuts her eyes, forcing her expression calm again. No one must see the flicker of admiration burning beneath her restraint.

---

Lyra Braveheart

Hands on her hips, sweat still drying on her flushed face. She whistles low at the number, grinning crookedly.

Lyra aloud, casual but loud enough for others nearby

"Twenty-six thousand, huh? Guess someone was busier than me."

She laughs, but when her eyes stay locked on Michael’s name, her grin wavers just a bit.

’Fifth isn’t bad. Not weak anymore. But still not first... And him? He’s not just strong. He fought like someone who’s lived this before. Like he knew the rules of survival.’

She cracks her knuckles, forcing her grin back.

Good. That’s the kind of fire I want to chase.

---

Aiden Stromfang

The wolfish heir barks out booming laughter, sweat still clinging to his ash-blond hair.

Aiden aloud with grinning he spoke

"HAHA! That guy’s a beast! Makes sense—only monsters crush monsters!"

(But as the laughter fades, he watches Michael’s back, the way the boy doesn’t raise his chin or bask in it.

’He doesn’t even celebrate. He just... walks away. Damn. That’s the kind of weight I want to carry too. The kind that makes laughter real, not forced.’

---

Chris Blackthorn

His gauntleted fists flex, his expression calm but shadowed.

’Father will sneer. "Seventh? The Blackthorn heir?" He’ll say my shadows were weak. But... no. Shadows linger. They outlast fire, water, light. Michael’s blaze burned bright today. But shadows... shadows wait.’

A faint smirk tugs his lips.

When the light falters, I’ll still be here.

---

Aurelia Miller

Her golden eyes narrow, arms crossed. Her crimson hair is damp, strands sticking to her face.

’That wasn’t brute force. He cut clean, efficient. Every strike was planned. Like he knew the map, the monsters, the traps...’

Her eyes sharpen. A flicker of unease crosses her.

Almost as if he already knew what awaited him.

---

Maria Frostheart

Her breath frosts in the air. Her lips press into a thin line. The ice around her boots cracks faintly before she stills it.

’ Ninth. Unacceptable. The Frostheart name doesn’t scrape the bottom of the Top Ten. Next time... I’ll freeze the board until my name’s at the top.’

The arena isn’t silent—it breathes with hundreds of tired, jealous, fearful voices. Like a crowded locker room after a brutal tournament.

"Twenty-six thousand? I barely hit four hundred..."

"He’s not human. He’s a monster in human skin."

"No... I heard he fought the sharks alone. Maybe he just wanted to live more than the rest of us."

"If that’s the standard... we’re all already dead."

"Class A? Forget it. No way I’m competing with freaks like them."

"Cheating. Has to be cheating. No commoner climbs that high. No way."

"...What if it isn’t cheating? What if he’s just that good?"

"Then we’re screwed."

The whispers ripple, some in awe, others in despair, others sharp with venom. The Colosseum feels like a powder keg admiration and envy mixing like oil and flame.

---