Dawn spilled golden light across the private training yard.
Cassian stood at its center, steam rising from his skin, muscles taut and still. In his chest, a faint golden ring spun in slow, steady rhythm—his first Mana Circle, complete. Power thrummed in his blood like a living flame, sharper and cleaner than anything he'd ever felt.
He turned toward the training dummy—an enchanted iron construct used by professors to test advanced spellwork. Most could barely dent it.
Cassian raised his sword.
Once rusted and forgotten, it now gleamed with golden light—reborn alongside its wielder.
He inhaled, centered his mana, and struck.
A flash of brilliance—a golden arc tore through the air.
CRACK.
The dummy split cleanly in half, the top crashing to the ground with a metallic thud.
Cassian stared.
> "That… shouldn't be possible."
But it was.
His grip tightened. Not the demon. Not borrowed power. This was his. Earned. Willed. Real.
A birdsong cut the silence. Cassian glanced up at the rising sun.
> "I trained through the night… again."
---
After a quick bath and change of clothes, Cassian stepped into the hallway of the Academy.
His plan: eat, stay quiet, stay sharp.
But waiting at the corridor's turn was a familiar figure.
"Cassian!"
He paused. Felicia Silverstream stood there, fingers nervously playing with a silver strand of hair, her violet eyes avoiding his.
"Would you… like to eat together again?" she asked, cheeks tinged pink.
Cassian blinked.
Then smiled.
> "Yeah. I'd like that."
---
The cafeteria was alive with students and sunlight. Cassian and Felicia sat by the window, the garden beyond blooming in soft colors.
They shared bread, roasted meat, and cups of elven tea. Felicia smiled more than usual. Cassian found it strangely calming, the way her laughter lilted through the morning light.
Then voices from nearby caught their ears.
"Did you hear?"
"Yeah—the King himself announced it. A continent-wide tournament!"
"They're selecting five heroes to face the Demon King's son and the remaining Sin Generals!"
Cassian's brow furrowed. So it begins.
Felicia looked over. "Do you think… it's true? About the Demon King's heir?"
He took a sip of tea before answering.
> "I think we'll find out very soon."
---
Later that morning, the elite students of Class S gathered in their magically enchanted classroom. Floating quills scribbled notes. Spellbooks fluttered open. The air smelled faintly of ink and arcane dust.
Professor Merrow, tall and robed in deep emerald, stood at the front.
"Today," he began, "we explore potion synthesis—specifically, elixirs that enhance internal mana flow. Precision is everything. One misstep—"
Bing!
A crystal orb at the front of the room lit up with a chime.
All eyes turned as a magical voice echoed through the chamber:
> "Attention all students: A preliminary tournament will be held in two days' time at the Academy Arena."
> "The victor shall receive a two-star healing skill book, a gift from the Royal Family."
> "Three champions from Class S will also be chosen to represent the Academy in the Capital's Grand Tournament, where five heroes will be selected to face the Demon King's forces."
The room burst into murmurs. Some gasped. Others clenched fists in excitement or fear.
Cassian leaned back in his seat.
In his chest, the golden Mana Circle pulsed faintly, like a sun awakening within him.
> "Two days, huh…"
He smiled to himself.
> "Perfect."
> "I needed a warm-up."