The Cold Heir

Ved didn't waste a second. He moved quickly through the crowd, jumping onto a platform where he could keep an eye on both his sister and some of the more notable competitors. Lyra had chosen a platform nearby, her stance relaxed but ready.

A tense murmur spread through the crowd.

"Here's how it works," Frederick said. "The rules are as follows: Each of you will claim a platform. When the test begins, challengers may attempt to knock you off your platform. If you are forced off, you are eliminated. If you fall unconscious, you are eliminated. The test will continue until 500 students remain."

The murmurs turned into outright discussions, some students already moving to claim platforms.

Around them, students scrambled, some forming groups, others getting ready to fight. Ved noticed Varys standing calmly on his own platform, smirking as he observed the competition.

The countdown began.

"Ten…"

The students tensed, gripping weapons, activating spells, preparing for the chaos that was about to unfold.

"Five…"

Ved's smirk returned.

"Let's see who's worthy"

"Begin!"

The arena exploded into action.

The moment the exam began, chaos erupted. Spells flew across the arena, weapons clashed, and shouts of pain and determination filled the air. Some students were instantly overwhelmed, knocked off their platforms before they could react. Others fought viciously, determined to prove their worth.

Ved remained still, his feet firmly planted on his platform. His icy blue eyes scanned the battlefield, calculating. Rushing in recklessly would be a fool's move. He needed to assess the threats before making his move.

A nearby student, a boy wielding twin daggers, lunged at him, clearly thinking Ved would be an easy target. His movements were quick, his agility impressive.

Ved sighed. "Too slow."

With a simple twist of his wrist, the air around him shimmered as ice spread beneath his feet. In an instant, a jagged ice wall shot up between them, forcing the attacker to a stop. Ved moved smoothly, stepping to the side and hitting the guy's shoulder with a palm strike infused with mana. The hit knocked him back, throwing him off balance.

Before the boy could recover, Ved raised his hand, freezing the air around him. A second later, the platform under the attacker's feet turned icy and slippery. The boy yelled, lost his footing, and slid right off.

"Eliminated," a robotic voice echoed as the boy disappeared in a flash of light, teleported out of the arena.

"Too easy," Ved smirked. "One down."

Across from him, Lyra barely moved. Two students had attempted to challenge her, but they now lay unconscious at the base of her platform, frozen solid in her ice magic. She flicked her wrist, they vanished in a flash of light, teleported out of the arena. before she returns to her composed stance.

Other battles raged around them.

Varys Atlas pulled out his sword and was handling several attackers at once. His swordplay was fluid, a mix of offense and defense that kept his opponents at bay. But he wasn't trying to knock anyone out—he was stalling, waiting for others to exhaust themselves.

"Smart" Ved could tell that Varys was holding back.

The tall, muscular red haired teen with the greatsword was making a scene, crushing his opponents with raw power. He swung his weapon with wild, overwhelming force, breaking platforms apart and sending students flying.

Ved chuckled watching the scene.

The girl with green hair in the dark robe barely moved. Shadows seemed to stick to her, and every student brave enough to get close was suddenly swallowed up, disappearing into the darkness without a sound.

"That's gotta be a Dreadwalker," Ved muttered under his breath, watching her with a mix of awe and caution. The Dreadwalkers were one of the five biggest families in the human domain, just like the Flacks, famous for their shadow magic that could make even the toughest fighters disappear into nothing. Her calm, almost eerie presence made it clear she wasn't just any student.

Around her, the other students started whispering nervously as they tried to figure out how to deal with her. Some teamed up, thinking numbers might help, but the shadows just grew darker, and their numbers meant nothing. She didn't even seem to break a sweat.

While Ved was sizing up and analyzing other competitors, a new challenger approached him. A boy covered in metal armor, carrying a massive axe, stomped toward Ved's platform.

"I've heard of you, Ved Flack," he said with a grin. "But I don't see what the big deal is."

Ved yawned. "Then come see for yourself."

The armored teen charged, swinging his axe with enough force to crack stone. Ved sidestepped effortlessly, his movements smooth and efficient. 'Too predictable.'

With a snap of his fingers, ice formed along the platform, making it dangerously slippery. When the boy swung his axe again, Ved ducked and swept his leg across the ice, making the attacker slip.

One small push was enough.

The guy fell backward off the platform, looking totally shocked.

"Eliminated."

Ved dusted off his uniform and turned his attention back to the rest of the battle. The number of examinees was dropping fast. A lot had already been knocked out, and the ones left were the toughest and most skilled.

He could feel the pressure rising, the real fight about to begin.