Chapter 3: Flames of Reality

The academy loomed in the distance, a place where the strongest trained to become the defenders of humanity. It wasn't just a school; it was the dividing line between those who would rise to power and those who would be left behind. Elric had not yet joined the ranks of the academy's students. He was still just one of the thousands of hopefuls who had recently awakened, waiting for the chance to prove their worth.

For most, that chance was the Tournament of Awakening, a brutal competition that served as the entrance exam for the academy. Thousands of newly awakened youths would compete, but only the top 1000 would earn a place. The rest would be sent back to their lives of obscurity, destined to be forgotten. For Elric, whose F-rank Flame Spark had marked him as weak, the odds seemed impossibly stacked against him.

He sat beneath a tree at the edge of the training grounds, the academy's towering walls in the distance. It felt like an insurmountable fortress, a place meant for the strong, while he was left to face the harsh reality of his own weakness.

The tournament was just a week away, and Elric's Talent—a flickering, barely controllable flame—felt woefully inadequate. He watched the other newly awakened students as they practiced in groups, testing out their Talents with growing confidence. Some conjured flames as tall as themselves, while others summoned blasts of wind or solid barriers of earth. Even the weaker students seemed more capable than him.

But he wasn't entirely powerless. The Creator System loomed in the back of his mind, its mysterious presence offering him hope—and fear. It promised him power beyond his weak Flame Spark, but only if he could unlock its full potential. Soul points. That was the key. But how was he supposed to earn them? The system had said they were gained by killing other awakened beings, but what did that even mean?

He hadn't shared this secret with anyone. He couldn't. If anyone knew what the system could do—if they even suspected its existence—he would become a target. The world was already cruel enough to those like him, but a power like this... People would kill for it.

Elric clenched his fists. He couldn't let anyone find out. For now, he would have to figure it out on his own.

"Hey, Elric!" a voice called out, pulling him from his thoughts.

He looked up to see Lara approaching. She was one of the few people who hadn't ridiculed him after the awakening ceremony. Her own Talent—Rank D Stone Skin—wasn't flashy, but it was strong enough to give her a decent chance in the tournament.

"Hey," Elric said, forcing a smile.

"You've been sitting out here a while," Lara said as she sat down beside him. "You okay?"

Elric shrugged. "Just... thinking about the tournament."

Lara nodded, her gaze drifting to the academy walls. "Yeah, it's hard not to. Everyone's talking about it. Only the top 1000 make it in, and with so many competing, it's going to be brutal."

"Yeah," Elric muttered, his thoughts clouded with doubt.

Lara glanced at him, her expression softening. "You're worried about your Talent, aren't you?"

Elric didn't respond right away. He didn't need to. Everyone knew how weak his Flame Spark was. It wasn't even a real flame—it was just a spark.

"I don't know how I'm going to survive the tournament with this," he admitted, staring at his hand. He had tried summoning the flame earlier, but it was so small, so fragile. In a tournament where strength and strategy were everything, how could he hope to stand out?

Lara was quiet for a moment before speaking. "It's not always about having the most powerful Talent, you know. Sometimes it's about how you use it."

Elric frowned. "Easy for you to say. You've got Stone Skin. You can take a hit and keep going. What can I do? Light a candle?"

"You can find a way," she said with a shrug. "There are people who have made it far with less. You just need to figure out how to use what you've got."

Elric sighed. He had heard similar words from other people, but they didn't ease the gnawing feeling of inadequacy inside him. The world didn't care how creative you were if you couldn't survive. And with a Talent as weak as his, survival seemed impossible.

"I don't know if that's going to be enough," he said finally. "There are too many people stronger than me. Even if I'm smart about it, they'll still crush me."

"The tournament is unpredictable," Lara said, her tone a little brighter. "It's not just one-on-one combat. There are group rounds, ambushes, environmental hazards... It's as much about endurance and strategy as it is about raw power."

Elric nodded slowly. He had heard about the different stages of the tournament—how it tested not just strength but adaptability. The competitors would be thrown into a series of challenges, from dangerous obstacle courses to all-out brawls. It was designed to simulate real combat against the demons and beasts that plagued the world beyond the city walls.

But the reality remained that only the top 1000 would make it through. Thousands of competitors, each with more powerful Talents than his, would be fighting for those spots. And he couldn't rely on the Creator System to save him—not yet. He didn't even know how to use it properly.

Lara stood, brushing the dirt from her pants. "Look, I know it's tough. But you've got a week. Use it to train, to figure out how you're going to approach the tournament. You might surprise yourself."

Elric gave her a small nod, though doubt still gnawed at him. He watched her walk away, her figure disappearing into the distance as she joined a group of students practicing their Talents.

Train. The word echoed in his mind.

He stood up, looking down at his hand. The familiar warmth of the Flame Spark flickered to life in his palm. It wasn't much, but it was something. Maybe there was a way to make it work—some way to use his weakness as an advantage.

But if that failed... The Creator System was still there, waiting, lurking in the back of his mind. If he could figure out how to use it—how to earn those soul points—he might be able to turn the tide. But the cost... The system's requirements were still unclear, and the uncertainty scared him.

He stared at the small flame in his hand, willing it to grow. It flared briefly before sputtering out, leaving him in darkness.

One week. That was all the time he had.

He had to survive the tournament. 

End of Chapter 3.