The muscular man clad in armor let out a hearty laugh, his voice booming through the ornate chamber. The high ceilings and grand marble columns seemed to amplify the sound, making it feel like the laughter itself was mocking Myuk.

  “This one is funny! I can barely sense any magic from him, yet he dares to present a demonstration?” Captain Thane Ironhart’s grin was wide and smug as he leaned back in his chair, his armor clinking slightly with the movement.

  Myuk stared at the floor, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. He had known he was out of his depth here, surrounded by gifted mages with a natural talent for magic. But hearing someone say it out loud—laugh at him for it—cut deeper than he expected. His chest tightened, shame coiling like a snake in his gut.

  Dean Elcairn adjusted his glasses, removing them to clean the lenses with deliberate calm, as though he had witnessed this scene play out a hundred times before. Myuk glanced at him, hoping for some form of intervention, but the Dean remained silent. Meanwhile, Ironhart’s laughter grew louder, echoing in Myuk’s ears and driving his confidence further into the ground.

  The soft clearing of a throat broke the tension.

  “Captain Thane Ironhart, can you refrain from belittling a potential student?” The woman seated on the right spoke with quiet authority, her tone cutting through the captain’s laughter. “He may yet possess a talent that would shock you.”

  She smiled warmly, her eyes briefly meeting Myuk’s. There was no mockery or pity in her gaze, only genuine encouragement. Myuk’s heart skipped a beat. He had grown so used to people dismissing his dreams—everyone except Garrick and his grandmother—that this unexpected kindness left him momentarily speechless.

  Ironhart’s laughter subsided, replaced by an exaggerated squint as he studied Myuk. “I don’t see it,” he muttered, shrugging nonchalantly.

  Dean Elcairn sighed and crossed his arms, his gaze finally settling on Myuk. “Nonetheless, you’ve selected ‘Demonstration.’ What will you be presenting to us?” His voice was calm, but the weight of his words pressed down on Myuk like a judge delivering a verdict.

  Myuk straightened his back, forcing himself to meet the Dean’s gaze. His legs trembled slightly, but he steeled himself. This was his chance to prove he belonged here.

  “I will be completing the five-elemental presentation,” he announced firmly.

  The room fell silent. For a moment, even the air seemed to grow still. Then Captain Ironhart burst into another fit of laughter, the sound booming louder than before.

  “Do you even understand what you’ve just said?” Ironhart exclaimed, wiping a tear from his eye. “The five-elemental presentation? The ability to demonstrate simultaneously wind, water, earth, fire, and lightning magic? That is a feat even experienced mages struggle with!” He leaned forward, his grin widening. “And someone like you, with barely any magical presence, thinks he can manage it?”

  Dean Elcairn closed his eyes, his expression unreadable as Ironhart’s laughter continued. The tension in the room was suffocating, but Myuk stood firm, his head held high despite the humiliation burning in his chest.

  Ironhart’s laughter began to fade as he noticed Myuk’s expression. The boy’s gaze was unyielding, a fire burning in his eyes that even the captain couldn’t ignore.

  The woman on the right smiled again, her expression one of quiet approval.

  Dean Elcairn opened his eyes, and the air in the room shifted. A palpable pressure swept through the chamber, pressing down on everyone present. Myuk staggered slightly, his breathing labored as the sheer force of the Dean’s magical aura washed over him. It was suffocating, heavy, and absolute. Myuk had never felt anything like it before.

  “Are you sure?” the Dean asked, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable edge.

  Myuk swallowed hard, regaining his composure. Despite the weight bearing down on him, he managed to nod, his voice steady. “I’m sure.”

  The Dean studied him for a moment longer before a faint smile crossed his lips. “Very well. You may proceed with your demonstration.”

  The oppressive aura dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Myuk gasping for air. He nodded once more and stepped into the center of the room, his hands trembling as he prepared himself. Closing his eyes, he pictured the forest where he had practiced this exact demonstration for months. He remembered the countless failures, the sting of frustration, and the faint glimmers of hope that had kept him going.

  This time, he thought, it would be different.

  Myuk’s breath came in sharp, shallow bursts as he stood at the center of the room, surrounded by the quiet anticipation of the instructors. He closed his eyes, his mind conjuring the familiar image of the forest where he had trained tirelessly. He remembered the frustration of each failure—the spheres destabilizing, the lightning fizzling out, the fire exploding too soon. Yet, he also remembered the fleeting moments of triumph, those rare times when he felt close to success.

  Today would be the day he finished what he started.

  Opening his eyes, he raised his trembling hands in front of him. The air around him grew tense, as if holding its breath.

  “Winds, carry my will and strike with unseen force!”

  The words left his lips with confidence, and a translucent sphere materialized before him. Inside, violent winds spun in a chaotic vortex, their sharp whistling sound filling the room. Myuk’s chest tightened as he steadied the sphere, the wild winds thrashing against the barrier but remaining contained.

  “Good,” the female professor murmured under her breath, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

  Without pausing, Myuk continued.

  “Flowing tides, rise and obey my command!”

  Another sphere appeared beside the first, this one shimmering with the deep blues and greens of roiling waves. The sound of crashing water echoed faintly, blending with the wind’s sharp whistle. The two spheres hovered side by side, their energies pulling at each other like rival forces trying to destabilize. Myuk grit his teeth, his arms shaking as he maintained their balance.

  The pressure was building. He could feel the strain in his core, the heavy weight of magic pulling at his very being. His breathing grew labored, but he refused to stop.

  “Earth, unyielding and strong, shape to my desire!”

  The third sphere appeared, its interior filled with jagged rocks that swirled furiously, colliding with heavy thuds. The vibrations from the sphere traveled up Myuk’s arms, and he let out a sharp gasp. The weight of three elements now felt crushing, as if a boulder had been tied to his chest.

  He faltered, his knees buckling slightly. The spheres flickered, their barriers trembling.

  “Typical,” Captain Ironhart muttered, his arms crossed. “He’s collapsing already. The boy bit off more than he can chew.”

  Myuk clenched his jaw, ignoring the captain’s words. He steadied himself, forcing his legs to lock in place. Images of his grandmother’s kind smile and Garrick’s enthusiastic thumbs-up flashed through his mind.

  I won’t let them down, he thought.

  “Blazing fire, consume all in your path!”

  The fourth sphere materialized, crackling with intense heat. The air around Myuk shimmered as waves of warmth radiated from the fiery orb. Flames licked at the edges of the barrier, their movements erratic and wild. Sweat poured down Myuk’s face, dripping onto the stone floor as his arms trembled violently.

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  He collapsed onto one knee, gasping for air. The room seemed to close in around him, the combined energy of the four elements threatening to overwhelm him.

  Ironhart shook his head and scoffed. “Enough. He’s reached his limit.”

  But Myuk wasn’t finished. Slowly, agonizingly, he forced himself to his feet. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but his resolve was unshaken.

  The female professor's smile widened slightly as she leaned back in her chair. “Not yet,” she murmured.

  The boy’s breathing was shallow, his vision blurry, but he raised his arms once more. His voice wavered as he began the final incantation.

  “Storm’s fury, descend…”

  A violent cough wracked his body, and blood spattered onto the platform. He staggered, swaying dangerously, but he didn’t stop.

  Ironhart stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “Dean Elcairn, this boy is going to kill himself. Call it off!” Before anyone could rebuttal Myuk finished the incantation.

  “…and shatter the skies!”

  The fifth and final sphere appeared, filled with dark storm clouds. Lightning arced inside, crackling loudly as thunder rumbled within the confines of the barrier. The sound reverberated through the room, a low and ominous growl that sent chills down the spines of the instructors.

  The Dean’s piercing gaze remained fixed on Myuk, his expression unreadable. “Professor Faelwyn, do you agree?”

  Professor Faelwyn tilted her head thoughtfully, her smile unwavering. “If we wait, Dean, I believe we’ll witness a miracle before our eyes.”

  Elcairn didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing as he continued to watch.

  Captain Ironhart sat down and his fingers drummed nervously against the armrest of his chair. For the first time, his usual confidence had been replaced by unease. He leaned back and muttered, “If anything happens, Faelwyn, this will be on you.”

  Professor Faelwyn didn’t respond immediately, her gaze fixed on Myuk as he stood trembling in the center of the room. Finally, she said with quiet assurance, “I’ll take responsibility. But I suggest you keep watching.”

  Myuk’s entire body screamed in agony, the strain of balancing the five unstable spheres pushing him to his absolute limit. His vision swam, and every breath felt like it could be his last. Still, he forced himself to continue.

  The room seemed to hold its breath as Myuk stood, his trembling arms raised toward the five orbs. The raw energy of the elements swirled around him, each sphere threatening to burst free of its barrier. Myuk closed his eyes tightly, his focus entirely on keeping the magic contained.

  But the elements wouldn’t be tamed so easily. He felt the bubbles shifting, their barriers rippling and bubbling as the magic within grew more volatile. Myuk gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He couldn’t let them explode—it would ruin everything.

  Slowly, he brought his hands together, his voice a strained whisper. “Merge,” he commanded.

  The spheres resisted at first, their energy clashing violently as he began to force them together. Sparks flew as the barriers touched, and Myuk let out a guttural scream, his body shaking with the effort. The instructors could feel the pressure in the air growing with every second, an oppressive weight that made even the most experienced mages uneasy.

  When the final sphere connected with the others, a searing light exploded outward, flooding the room in a blinding flash. The instructors shielded their eyes as the magic roared, the sound deafening and primal. The floor beneath Myuk cracked slightly, unable to withstand the sheer power radiating from him.

  When the light finally faded, a heavy silence fell over the room.

  Captain Ironhart stood frozen, his arms slack at his sides as he stared at the sight before him. “Impossible…” he murmured.

  Hovering in front of Myuk was a single, massive sphere. Inside it, five smaller orbs swirled in perfect harmony, each containing an element: the violent winds, the roiling waves, the swirling rocks, the raging flames, and the storming lightning. The combined energy was breathtaking, a masterpiece of raw magic held together by sheer will.

  Faelwyn smiled softly, her expression serene. “Remarkable,” she said, her voice filled with quiet admiration.

  Dean Elcairn sat back in his chair, his arms folded as he studied the boy. A faint smile tugged at his lips, a rare show of approval. “Impressive,” he said simply.

  Before he could say more, Myuk swayed unsteadily. His knees buckled, and he began to fall backward.

  “Careful!” Faelwyn raised her hand, summoning a gentle gust of wind. The breeze caught Myuk before he could hit the ground, cradling him as he was lowered softly onto the stone floor.

  The massive sphere of combined magic began to shimmer and shrink, its energy condensing rapidly. Elcairn’s sharp gaze remained fixed on it as it compressed into a faint point of light before vanishing entirely.

  The tension in the room dissolved, replaced by a quiet awe.

  Faelwyn chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Who would have thought? A mage using the Magic Academy Entrance Exam as a catalyst to ascend to the next tier.” She glanced at Myuk’s unconscious form, her eyes gleaming. “From Lower Tier 1 to Middle Tier 1, all in a single demonstration. That’s an achievement worth celebrating.”

  Dean Elcairn stood, his commanding presence filling the room. “I trust he’ll be pleased with his acceptance into Nysteria Magic Academy,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a weight of finality.

  Captain Ironhart blinked, his shock giving way to a booming laugh. “Well, I’ll be damned. Looks like this year’s recruits will be full of surprises!”

  Faelwyn’s smile deepened as she looked at Myuk. “We’ve only just scratched the surface,” she said softly. “We have no idea what he’s truly capable of.”

  Myuk’s eyes fluttered open, greeted by nothing but darkness. He sat up slowly, his breath echoing in the emptiness around him. The air was cold and still, and he realized with growing unease that he couldn’t see the walls or floor—just an endless void stretching in all directions.

  His heart raced as he stood, his footsteps silent on an invisible surface. He turned in circles, searching for anything—a landmark, a sound, a sign of where he was.

  Then, a door appeared. It materialized out of nowhere, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light. Myuk hesitated, the pit in his stomach deepening. But what choice did he have? Steeling himself, he stepped forward and pushed the door open.

  The room beyond was vast, larger than anything he’d ever seen. At its center floated a single bubble, its surface shimmering with a strange iridescence. Myuk approached cautiously, drawn by the swirling purple mist within. The mist moved rhythmically, as if alive, its calm undulations beckoning him closer.

  He stopped in front of the bubble, his hand trembling as he reached out. The moment his fingers brushed the surface, the bubble pulled him in with a violent force.

  Myuk gasped as his head snapped back, visions flooding his mind in a rapid, incomprehensible torrent. He saw a man floating in the air, his silhouette crackling with raw energy. A massive ritual unfolded in the sky above, ancient symbols glowing with ominous power. A town burned, its streets filled with screams and chaos.

  The final image froze in his mind: the man’s hood slid back slowly, revealing—

  Myuk bolted upright with a gasp, his heart pounding. The dream was gone, but its haunting images lingered in his mind, etched into his memory. He blinked against the bright light overhead, realizing he was lying in a hospital bed.

  The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his nose, and the hum of distant voices filtered in from the hallway. Myuk turned his head toward the window, where a clear blue sky stretched endlessly. It was beautiful, but it offered no comfort. His chest felt heavy, the weight of the dream pressing down on him.

  He sat up slowly, his muscles aching with every movement. Footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder. Suddenly, the door burst open.

  “MYUK! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” Garrick shouted, his voice cracking with emotion.

  Myuk gave a weak laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ve been better,” he admitted.

  Garrick rushed to his side, his eyes scanning Myuk’s face and arms. “If something happens to you, Grandma Sylvara is going to kill me!”

  Myuk laughed again, but it was short-lived. His gaze dropped to the blanket covering his lap, his expression clouding with doubt. “I didn’t pass the entrance exam, did I?”

  Garrick froze, unsure how to respond. He had hoped with all his heart that Myuk would pass, that they’d both walk through the academy gates together. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

  Myuk sank back into the bed, pulling the covers over his head. The silence was suffocating, and Garrick could only watch helplessly as his friend retreated.

  But then, something caught his eye. “What’s this?” Garrick asked, crouching to pick up a small box from beneath the bed.

  Myuk peeked out from the covers, confused. “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Well, it’s not going to open itself,” Garrick replied, handing the box to him.

  Myuk took the box hesitantly, his fingers shaking as he lifted the lid. Inside was a folded letter. His breath hitched as he unfolded it and began to read:

  To Myuk,

  The road ahead will not be an easy one. As a commoner, you will face prejudice from those who believe status outweighs merit. Many of your peers have grown up surrounded by magic, their knowledge vast and ingrained, while you must work harder to catch up.

  But do not let this deter you. Magic responds not to blood, but to will. Let every challenge you encounter become a stepping stone to your success. Persevere, seek knowledge, and let your actions speak louder than the doubts of others.

  With this, I extend my congratulations on advancing to Middle Tier 1 and your acceptance into Nysteria Magic Academy. Your potential has been recognized. Inside the box is your school uniform—you’ve earned it.

  The letter trembled in Myuk’s hands as tears welled up in his eyes. He closed them tightly, clutching the letter to his chest as his emotions overwhelmed him.

  Garrick watched in silence, his chest tightening at the sight of his friend’s tears. He reached into the box and pulled back the cloth to reveal a neatly folded uniform. The crest of Nysteria Magic Academy was embroidered proudly on the chest, its silver threads glinting in the sunlight streaming through the window.

  “You did it, Myuk,” Garrick said softly. “You really did it.”

  Myuk opened his eyes, his tears falling freely. He looked at the uniform, then back at Garrick, a weak but genuine smile breaking through his exhausted expression.

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The dream, the exam, the struggles—none of it mattered now. Myuk had taken the first step on his journey, and for the first time, he believed he could go further.