The Imperial Arena erupted with a thunderous roar.
Its vast ring of earth and stone stood at the center of an enormous coliseum, with thousands of spectators filling the stands.
Above them, banners of the Five Great Kingdoms billowed in the wind:
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Vermillion – Crimson
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Solmara – Deep Blue
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Durnholm – Iron Gray
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Calidora – Emerald Green
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<li>
Lunareth – Midnight Black
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</ul>
And above them all, the golden eagle of the Imperial Family gleamed highest, a symbol of absolute authority.
The air hummed with anticipation, the atmosphere thick with excitement and tension.
In the tunnels below, 250 noble children—ages 10 to 19—stood ready.
At the center of the arena, a figure clad in silver and gold armor raised his hand.
The Marshal of Cavalry, a towering man with a gaze sharp as a blade, commanded instant silence.
His voice boomed across the stadium, enhanced by magic.
"Hear me, warriors of the Five Great Kingdoms!"
The crowd erupted once more before quieting down.
"This is no mere game. This tournament is a trial by battle—a test of skill, resilience, and strength. The future elite of our Empire shall rise from these sands."
His piercing gaze swept over the competitors, as if measuring their worth.
"You fight not just for honor, but for the right to enter the Imperial Academy. Only the top 50 will stand victorious, earning the privilege to train under the Empire’s finest."
He raised his gauntleted hand.
"Now, hear the rules!"
<hr>
Tournament Criteria
?? Participants:
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<li>
Each of the Five Great Kingdoms—Vermillion, Solmara, Durnholm, Calidora, and Lunareth—has sent 50 noble children.
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A total of 250 competitors, aged 10 to 19, stand before this trial.
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</ul>
?? Objective:
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The top 50 will earn admission to the Imperial Academy.
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<li>
Placement is determined by performance across the tournament.
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</ul>
?? Day 1 Format:
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Every participant will face five random duels.
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Wins and losses determine the overall ranking.
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</ul>
?? Injuries:
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Imperial priests clad in white robes wield divine healing magic.
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Injured participants will be healed, ensuring they can continue or withdraw honorably.
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</ul>
?? The Imperial Family’s Presence:
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Among the competitors are 30 nobles from the Empire’s core aristocracy.
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Most notably, Prince Leon Valtaris (14) and Princess Aria Valtaris (12), twin children of the Emperor himself, compete to prove their worth.
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</ul>
?? The Prize – The Aetheric Shard:
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<li>
The ultimate champion will receive an ancient relic—the Aetheric Shard, said to enhance the body’s mana flow, allowing a warrior to break through their limits faster.
</li>
</ul>
With a final glance at the competitors, the Marshal lowered his hand.
“Day One! Five duels each, randomly drawn! Your scores will carve your fate—only the top fifty join the Academy. Fight with honor!” His voice boomed, met by a deafening cheer. White-robed Imperial priests lined the arena’s edge, their hands glowing with healing light, ready for the inevitable.
"Let the tournament… begin!"
<hr>
The mana-screen flickered, displaying the first matchups.
Lucius Ardentis vs. Gavric Torvald – Durnholm.
Lucius exhaled, his golden eyes glowing slightly as he stepped forward.
Across the arena, a tall and broad-shouldered boy from Durnholm emerged.
Gavric Torvald.
A warrior from a kingdom of iron and steel, where knights were forged like weapons.
The crowd murmured as they observed the two fighters.
?? Commentator 1: “The first match for Lucius Ardentis! A son of Duke Magnus, and a rising talent in Vermillion!”
?? Commentator 2: “But Gavric Torvald is no pushover! The Durnholm warriors are famous for their resilience—this will be a clash of strength versus speed!”
Lucius gripped his sword, his aura blade forming with perfect clarity.
Across from him, Gavric cracked his knuckles, his body coated in a dense layer of mana reinforcement.
The referee raised his hand.
?? "BEGIN!" ??
Gavric charged first.
His footsteps cracked the ground, his his spear swinging like a falling executioner’s blade.
Lucius didn’t move—he simply watched.
And then—
A blur of gold.
At the last moment, he sidestepped, his enhanced reflexes far surpassing normal nobles.
The spear slammed into the ground, missing him entirely.
Lucius moved in, his aura blade humming—
A precise slash at Gavric’s exposed side.
CLANG!
A sharp impact—Gavric’s armor-like mana reinforcement absorbed the hit.
But Lucius didn’t stop.
He shifted, his blade dancing—striking again and again, faster than the eye could follow.
?? “Incredible speed from Lucius!” The commentator’s voice rang out.
?? “But Gavric is holding strong! His Durnholmian defense is like a fortress!”
Gavric growled, swinging his spear in a massive arc.
Lucius ducked, sliding beneath the attack with perfect precision.
And then—
With a sharp exhale, he coated his blade with pure, condensed mana—
A powerful, focused stab—
Straight through Gavric’s reinforcement layer.
The Durnholm noble staggered, eyes wide, feeling his mana protection crack.
And before he could recover—
Lucius’ foot smashed into his chest, sending him sprawling onto the ground.
A moment of silence.
Then—
?? "Winner—Lucius Ardentis!" ??
The arena erupted in cheers.
Up in the Ardentis family’s viewing booth, Duke Magnus simply nodded, as if he had expected nothing less.
Cassius and Julius scowled, jealousy burning in their gazes.
But Ardian smiled, feeling nothing but pride.
Lucius lowered his blade, his golden eyes scanning the crowd.
He had won.
But this was only the first step.
Four more battles awaited him.
And he was just getting started.