Not every student had chosen to participate. Whether due to lack of confidence, sheer inexperience, or the overwhelming pressure of the event, many had opted to remain in the stands alongside the civilians—spectators who had traveled from all across the continent just to witness the legendary trial unfold. Their faces were a mix of awe and envy as they watched the competitors below, some whispering to each other about the fighters they recognized, others simply soaking in the grandeur of the moment.

  "And overseeing this match," the headmaster continued, his voice brimming with an uncharacteristic excitement that caught even his closest students off guard, "will be none other than the legendary Essentia Warrior himself—Rheon!"

  Gasps and murmurs rippled through the audience like a wave, spreading from one end of the stadium to the other. The name alone carried weight, a legacy of power and heroism that had been etched into the annals of history. Whispers of his feats—battles won, enemies vanquished, and trials conquered—filled the air, each word adding to the mythos of the man who now stepped into view. Rheon’s presence was commanding, his tall frame draped in a flowing cloak that shimmered with faint traces of Essentia. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the crowd with an almost predatory focus, and a faint smile played on his lips, as if he were savoring the moment.

  "I didn't expect him to be so… cheerful," Towan muttered, raising an eyebrow at his headmaster’s unusually animated tone. He crossed his arms, his usual bravado tinged with a hint of skepticism. "What’s gotten into him? He’s acting like he’s hosting a festival, not a trial."

  "Yeah, never seen him like this before," Alira agreed, her sharp eyes narrowing as she watched the headmaster with suspicion. Her fingers tapped lightly against her leg, a nervous habit she only displayed when something felt off. "Is he trying to hype up the crowd, or is there something else going on?"

  "Is he putting on a show or something?" Elliot wondered aloud, his mind racing. He adjusted his glasses, his analytical nature kicking into overdrive as he tried to piece together the headmaster’s motives. "This doesn’t feel like him. There’s got to be a reason he’s acting this way."

  The headmaster wasted no time in continuing, his voice rising to a crescendo that silenced the murmurs. "This match will feature this academy’s strongest student… Sylra Auren!"

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  The moment her name was announced, the stadium roared with excitement, the sound so intense it felt like the very ground was shaking. All eyes turned to the arena as Sylra stepped forward, her presence alone enough to command attention. She moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, her every step deliberate and confident. Her silver hair caught the light, shimmering like a blade, and her piercing blue eyes scanned the crowd with a calm, almost detached focus. The air around her seemed to hum with restrained power, a testament to the immense Essentia she wielded.

  Towan smirked, his earlier skepticism replaced by a spark of excitement. "Now this is getting interesting," he said, his voice low but brimming with anticipation. He leaned forward, his eyes locked on Sylra as if trying to gauge her readiness. "She’s been training for this. I can feel it."

  "So this is why she wasn’t around…" Elliot muttered, realization dawning on him as he recalled Sylra’s recent absence from their usual gatherings. His brow furrowed as he pieced it together. "She’s been preparing for this match. No wonder she’s been so scarce."

  "But that’s not all," the headmaster added, his voice carrying an almost theatrical pause that sent a ripple of curiosity through the crowd. The stadium fell silent, every breath held in anticipation. "For her opponent, we have invited none other than the previous champion of the Cross-Academy Trial… to open this event with a match!"

  A heavy silence fell over the students, the weight of the announcement pressing down like a physical force. The air grew thick with tension as a figure emerged onto the battlefield. His movements were calm, almost languid, yet each step carried undeniable weight, as if the ground itself acknowledged his presence. The crowd seemed to collectively hold its breath, the silence so profound that the faint rustle of his cloak could be heard.

  Towan and Elliot’s eyes widened in shock, their mouths falling open in unison. "No way…" they uttered, their voices barely above a whisper. The name hung unspoken in the air, but it didn’t need to be said. Everyone knew who he was.

  Alira glanced between them, her confusion evident. "What? What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice tinged with urgency. She followed their gaze, her sharp eyes narrowing as she tried to make sense of their reaction.

  The figure finally came into full view, standing tall on the opposing side of the arena. His reputation preceded him, his very name synonymous with dominance in the trials. His clothes, though simple in design, bore the marks of countless battles, each scratch and dent telling a story of victory and resilience. His eyes, a piercing gold, locked onto Sylra with an intensity that seemed to cut through the distance between them. A faint smirk played on his lips, as if he were already savoring the challenge.

  Rhys had returned. And now, he stood face to face with Sylra, the air between them crackling with unspoken rivalry and the promise of an unforgettable clash.