The next few days passed in a quiet rhythm.

  Aston kept his head down at the Emberlight Emporium, diligently cataloging new items, dusting shelves, and assisting customers under Rufus’ watchful eye. Every evening, he’d return to the hotel, share some food with Gray and Mirage, and lie in bed reading about past Dawn Crest evaluations. Sometimes, he’d send a request to Nova for questions regarding spirit theory, other times, he’d play with Mirage and Gray.

  Aston didn’t train aggressively during those days. He wanted to stay fresh. Instead, he did light spiritual energy exercises, and checked the flow of his spirit threads. He also spends time meditating, sharpening his mind more than his body.

  The night before the recruitment, he barely slept. His thoughts buzzed louder than any dream.

  —

  April 8th.

  The sun hadn’t even broken past the horizon when Aston stirred.

  He sat up in the quiet room. Gray opened one eye, then closed it lazily with a tiny snore. Mirage, already awake, gave a soft hoot.

  Aston stepped in the shower to clean himself up, and dressed in the outfit he’d carefully set aside - the dark collared shirt with red threadwork. He folded the coat over one arm, preferring to move light. He checked himself in the mirror once, subtly fixing his hair.

  I can do this.

  He tucked his pendant inside his clothes, and stepped outside his room. When he went to the dining area for breakfast, he could see no one, as the sun was still rising. He picked a few breakfast items, quickly ate, then went outside the hotel.

  As Aston approached the central square, the transformation was staggering.

  Banners bearing the Dawn Crest Academy emblem fluttered from high poles, the golden crest outlined in sunlit shimmer. Tents and evaluation booths were set up along the perimeter, each bearing the signs for various divisions - Spirit Combat, Spirit Engineering, Spirit Alchemy, and more.

  A crowd had already formed. Hundreds, almost a thousand, of young people between ages twelve to eighteen were streaming into the plaza. Some came into large groups, likely from guilds or private instructors. Others looked solo, eyes burning with ambition.

  Spirit beasts roamed near their partners - a fox with flaming tails, a wolf with fur-like shifting shadows, a mouse with icy wind rotating around it, a frog with sticky skin, and a lot more. The square buzzed with life and anticipation.

  A pair of sentry crystals hovered in the air, recording everything. From the raised stage at the center, an academy official adjusted his lapel and prepared for his speech. Around the square, recruiters from nearby towns and cities observed with sharp eyes.

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  Aston stood at the edge of it all, taking in the vibrant chaos. For a moment, it almost overwhelmed him. But then, Gray hopped from his arms to his shoulder and Mirage landed on the other. Their steady presence grounded him.

  A pulse echoed across the square. The floating crystals turned toward the stage as a voice, amplified through subtle enhancements, filled the plaza.

  “Welcome, aspiring professionals of Shale City and neighboring areas!”

  The voice belonged to a tall, broad-shouldered man with silver streaks in his hair. His long robes bore the insignia of Dawn Crest Academy’s Spirit Combat Division - two swords crossing beneath a rising sun. Though he was clearly an elder, his voice carried the strength of someone who could still level a battlefield alone.

  “I am James Vermillion, an elder of the Spirit Combat Division,” he said, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. “Today marks the first stage of our regional recruitment drive. You have come from villages, towns, and cities across the western provinces, bearing different paths, strengths, and dreams. But here today, you all stand on equal ground.”

  A few murmurs rippled through the crowd, excitement and nervousness mingling in equal measure.

  “To ensure fairness and accommodate the unexpectedly large participants, the formal assessments will begin at 9 o’clock sharp. You have more than an hour to register at the designated booths along the eastern side of the square.” He gestured to the row of tents where spirit energy flickered and glowed faintly.

  “Your potential classifications will be verified first. Then, you will undergo brief aptitude evaluations based on your chosen disciplines. Those who qualify will move on to the main trials.”

  Elder James paused. His voice softened, but somehow grew more powerful.

  “Dawn Crest Academy is not looking for perfection. We are looking for resolve. For potential. For spirit.”

  The crowd stirred. Some of the youths straightened their backs. Others quietly nodded to themselves.

  “Good luck to all of you.” the elder finished. “And let the dawn rise within you.”

  With that, he stepped back, and the platform shifted slightly as other academy officials moved into position to coordinate the evaluations.

  Aston exhaled, steadying himself. Then he turned his eyes toward the registration booths. The eastern side of the square had transformed into a vibrant corridor of tents and banners. The registration booths stood beneath tall tents, each draped in distinct colors representing the division of Dawn Crest Academy. Attendants in academy robes stood behind crystal-embedded counters, calling out in advertisement, guiding lines, and handing out pamphlets.

  At the very center, drawing the most attention, and also Dawn Crest Academy’s specialty, stood the Spirit Combat Division booth. Its banner was a deep crimson lined with gold trim, emblazoned with two crossing swords and rising sun behind them. Its members had sharp eyes and steady gaits. Some of the candidates here wore armor fragments or training sashes, while their spirit beasts radiated ferocity, their manes crackling, claws released, and eyes burning with spirit.

  To its left, the Spirit Engineering Division displayed a charcoal-gray banner shot through with electric blue. Its emblem depicted a gear encasing a spirit core. Around the booth buzzed small constructs and spirit-forged tools midair. Along its members are spirit beasts with electricity zapping through their furs, flames hot enough to melt different materials, and claws with tool-like precision.

  To the right of the Spirit Combat Division booth stood the Scouting Arts Division. Its dark green banner is marked with an eye at the center of a compass. The line filled with lithe, sharp-eyes youth - many in lightweight gear, boots wrapped for silent movement. Their beasts were subtle and swift - foxes, falcons, felines, and even insects.

  That was where Aston was headed, where his real trial would begin.