The great common hall of the academy was strangely silent that morning. The students, usually talkative and restless, had gathered at the heart of the central building, where Master Calem was about to announce the mid-term trial. A flicker of apprehension shone in the eyes of many youths, for this session would be decisive.
Calem stepped forward, his serious face illuminated by the light from the large windows. He fixed the crowd with his gaze, and his voice resonated calmly but with authority:
— "This year, the evaluation will not be a simple individual demonstration. We have decided to raise the stakes. Three students from the Orion class will join forces to face a single representative from the Nova class."
A murmur ran through the assembly. This type of trial was unprecedented — a real test of endurance and tactics.
— "The Nova student will have to hold their ground, resist, analyze, and counterattack against a numerically superior but disadvantaged group. This trial will test not only your raw power but also your composure and creativity under pressure."
Calem paused for a moment, resting his gaze on Menma.
— "The student chosen to represent the Nova class will be announced soon. Prepare yourselves."
Menma felt his muscles tense. He had no other choice. He had to be ready.
Later, on the training grounds, under a sky turning toward dusk, Menma trained with relentless effort. The old training gauntlet vibrated in his hand as he tried to amplify his resistance. But fatigue and frustration slowly crept over him.
He was doing too much, focusing too much on raw strength, forgetting to let his power become natural.
A light step approached behind him. Ayame.
— "You're fighting too much against your flow. You're trying to force it, when you need to guide it."
Menma looked at her, intrigued. She stepped closer and gently placed her hand on his shoulder.
— "Breathe calmly. Visualize magic like a flowing stream. Don't try to bend it, but let it pass through you."
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. The blue light around the gauntlet changed, becoming softer, more fluid.
— "Try to synchronize your movement with your breathing," Ayame added. "Magic isn't a burden. It's a part of you."
Menma repeated the exercise, slowly guiding the flow, and for the first time, the sensation of amplification approached what he had imagined: a natural extension.
— "That's better," he admitted, still breathless.
Ayame gave a slight smile before slipping away almost as quietly as she had come.
But somewhere above, behind a large stained-glass window of the academy, a fiery red gaze scrutinized the training courtyard. Zarek, a Nova class student, stood still, his piercing eyes fixed on Menma.
He had seen the young girl approach, Ayame, and offer the boy some subtle, almost imperceptible advice. A slight smile appeared on Zarek's lips.
— "If Ayame takes the time to help him..." he thought, his inner voice tinged with amusement. "This kid must really have potential."
His gaze darkened, tinged with a hint of challenge.
— "Interesting... it'll be worth testing his limits."
The mid-term trial was approaching, and already Zarek felt excitement rising. If Menma had Ayame's attention, then this fight would be far more interesting than expected.
In the days that followed, the atmosphere of the academy grew heavier. The halls buzzed with rumors and speculation. Who would face the Nova class? And most importantly... who would come out unscathed?
The Orion class multiplied their improvised training sessions. Some students, too nervous, exhausted themselves. Others took the exercise more methodically. Calem, for his part, observed.
One afternoon, he gathered three students on a secondary field: Menma, William, and Lina.
— "This isn't a team yet," he said. "But I need to see how you interact."
Lina struggled to stabilize her shields, which sometimes pulsed explosively under stress. William chained dodges and feints with ease but remained too solitary in his approach. Menma, focused, amplified his stance and grip but hadn't yet found the collective rhythm.
— "You are three straight lines," Calem said calmly. "I need a circle."
He made them repeat the exercise several times until Lina instinctively started placing her barriers to protect William, until Menma anticipated their movements and amplified at the right moment without overexerting.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was a start.
And a few days later...
Without further ado, Calem straightened up and clapped his hands to draw the attention of the students gathered at the side of the field. "I will present the teams for the mid-term trial."
Silence fell, eyes turned toward the professor.
Calem, true to himself, took center stage with his calm voice and sharp gaze.
— "For this mid-term trial, the team representing the Orion class will be composed of three students."
He let the silence linger, letting each name weigh.
— "Menma."
The boy slowly stood, took a deep breath, then adopted a serious expression. His gaze had hardened, charged with determination.
— "William. You have seen him fight — fast, precise, with an amplified agility Arche."
William nodded confidently.
— "And finally... Lina."
Some students raised their eyebrows. But Calem allowed no murmurs.
— "Do not underestimate her defensive magic. A perfectly placed barrier can turn the tide of a battle."
Lina lowered her eyes, visibly embarrassed by the attention, but a slight smile hovered on her lips. She was ready to try.
— "As for their opponent..." Calem continued.
— "The chosen student will be Zarek, an elite Nova class student. He ranks fourth in the general standings, just behind Ryoma, Ayame, and Masaru. His reputation is formidable. Fast, powerful, and with iron will, he will be a worthy adversary."
Calem resumed: "This trial is more than a test of strength. It is a challenge of endurance, strategy, and cooperation. You must hold against a numerically superior but above all talented opponent."
Menma felt his heart beat faster. There was much to prove, not only to others but especially to himself.
Calem concluded: "Prepare yourselves. This trial will push you to your limits. But I know you are capable."
The day was fading, and as shadows lengthened over the academy, Menma felt ready to face this challenge, fueled by Ayame’s advice, Calem’s rigor, and the new flame burning within him.
Zarek, leaning against a wall, slowly raised his eyes. A smirk formed on his lips.
— "Interesting," he murmured.