Trial.

Celathis was in her office high above the main academy halls, softly illuminated by enchanted lanterns drifting lazily overhead. On her desk lay three dossiers bearing the Vanguard Academy crest. Her delicate fingers flipped through the pages as she chuckled quietly.

"Raymed," she muttered to herself, scanning the report. "Mana beyond comprehension, yet minimal control. This boy is a walking storm of mana."

She shifted to the next document labeled "Thalamik." Celathis raised an eyebrow as she read, "Mana control nearly perfect… Necromancy?" Her voice trailed off into a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Interesting skills for a boy his age. If he grows properly, he'll be a decisive weapon."

Lastly, she reviewed the dossier marked "Carmilla." The Saint Candidate's skills in sealing magic were exceptional, and Celathis paused, impressed. "With these three… perhaps we could truly claim the High-Human Sacred Region," she murmured with a smile. "Investing resources in these three might turn out to be a very wise decision indeed."

She laughed softly, stacking the dossiers neatly, eyes glinting with the excitement of plans yet to unfold.

Early the next morning, Thalamik, Raymed, and Carmilla stood on the edge of a vast training ground, the sun rising over the horizon, casting a golden glow. Dozens of other students chatted excitedly nearby, awaiting the start of the orientation trial.

"This should be easy enough," Raymed said confidently, stretching out his arms. "We just need to clear the obstacle course and tag the beacon."

Thalamik gave a small nod, silently adjusting the flow of his mana to remain at a controlled level. "Let's finish this quickly."

A group of elegant elves approached, led by one tall, silver-haired noble whose expression radiated arrogance. Whispers rippled through the crowd around them.

"Who are they?" Carmilla asked softly.

A nearby human boy leaned closer, his voice hushed. "That's Isval Il Opache, an Elf noble. He's supposed to be a prodigy or something. Real big shot."

Raymed raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Prodigy, huh? Sounds like trouble."

Thalamik scowled at the elves but said nothing, turning back toward the trial grounds. A loud trumpet sounded, signaling the start. Celathis's magically amplified voice echoed through the training area.

"Teams, begin! Remember, interference between teams is allowed. Reach the beacon first, and you'll earn your Vanguard crest. First 100 to get through will also pass."

With a burst of speed, Raymed charged forward first, his powerful mana surging recklessly around him as illusions of Demonfolk materialized from thin air.

He smashed straight through them with overwhelming force, roaring, "Carmilla, Thalamik, let's go!"

Carmilla immediately began sealing away illusions, her graceful motions weaving glowing runes that pinned down enemy apparitions. Thalamik moved efficiently, slicing through illusions with his saber while keeping his mana carefully restrained.

"This is easier than I thought," Raymed laughed as he crushed another illusion with his fist, enjoying the exercise.

"Don't let your guard down," Thalamik warned, slicing precisely through an invisible tripwire. "Something feels off—"

An arrow suddenly hissed through the air, grazing Thalamik's cheek, narrowly missing his head. He spun instantly, mana flaring dangerously before he reined it back.

Standing atop a nearby ruin was Isval, bow in hand, smiling smugly. "Careful, human. I wouldn't want to accidentally kill you during orientation."

Thalamik's eyes darkened with fury. "You…"

Carmilla quickly stepped beside him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Don't lose control. That's exactly what he wants."

Raymed stepped forward aggressively. "Is that how nobles greet people around here?"

Isval smiled calmly, preparing another arrow, but suddenly paused as if listening to something unheard. A slight frown crossed his face, and he lowered his bow.

"You're lucky, humans," he said dismissively, turning away. "It seems someone higher up favors you today. Welcome to Vanguard Academy."

With that cryptic remark, he and his followers vanished swiftly into the crowd.

Raymed relaxed slightly. "What was that about?"

"Probably politics," Carmilla murmured thoughtfully, shaking her head.

"Doesn't matter now," Thalamik growled. "Let's finish this."

They sprinted the last stretch of the course, arriving at the crystal beacon first. Thalamik reached out, tagging the glowing rune, which flashed brightly, signaling their victory.

A cheer erupted from spectators and instructors alike as a steward quickly approached, handing them bronze-and-navy emblems. "Congratulations! You are officially recognized students of Vanguard Academy."

Raymed proudly pinned the crest onto his uniform. Carmilla smiled, quietly attaching her own emblem, while Thalamik merely stuffed it into his pocket, eyes still blazing from the earlier encounter.

Raymed proudly pinned his crest, grinning. "Not bad for day one."

Carmilla smiled gently, carefully affixing hers. Thalamik simply pocketed his crest, eyes still darkly scanning the area.

"Still upset about that elf?" Raymed teased lightly.

Thalamik snorted irritably. "He'll learn soon enough not to test me."

Raymed laughed nervously, shooting Carmilla a cautious glance. "Maybe let's avoid making enemies on our first day?"

Thalamik just shrugged, already moving away. "That's up to them. Just keep an eye out. This place might be more complicated than it looks."

Above, Celathis watched quietly from a distant balcony, a pleased smile on her face. "Excellent," she whispered softly. "They're already making waves."

***

The sun hung high over Vanguard Academy's expansive courtyard, illuminating clusters of students gathered in small groups. Elves in flowing robes chatted near a statue of the academy's founder, while demi-humans and humans practiced drills on the adjoining training grounds. Thalamik, having wandered away from Raymed and Carmilla, found himself near a trio of elves, including Isval Il Opache. The noble elf sneered openly as Thalamik approached.

"Hah! A human with such a puny mana pool dares call himself a Hero Candidate?" Isval mocked, spitting on the ground near Thalamik's boots. His friends chuckled, adding a sneer of their own. "To think a bottom-feeder like you needed to be protected by a higher-up is beyond me."

Thalamik came to an abrupt stop, fists slowly tightening. His mana had been subdued under tight control—he was careful not to flaunt it among the crowd. But the elf's blatant contempt was the last straw.

"Watch it," Thalamik muttered. "Wanna tell me again about my 'puny' mana?"

Isval sneered. "You humans are all bark. Go crawl back to your ruins or wherever you came from."

At that, Thalamik let his mana flare. A blue, crackling energy emanated around him, shocking the elves and instantly shutting them up. Isval took a fearful step back, eyes widening in alarm.

"Still think my mana is puny?" Thalamik growled, advancing. His lips curled into a devilish smile. "You clowns wanna go? I've been itching to beat some sense into a bunch of smug brats." He raised a clenched fist, knuckles popping.

Before the elves could respond, a tall wolf demi-human intervened, stepping between them. "If you wanna pick a fight," the wolf-man growled, placing a hand on Thalamik's shoulder, "Pick a fight with me. You humans just showed up and are already disrespecting other races. Who do you think you are?"

Who is this assh***? Thalamik thought.

That's when it hit him.

This bi*ch was the guy who asked about L'arc at the orientation ceremony.

Yet Thalamik personally didn't care who the hell this wolf demi-human is.

Thalamik's eyes flashed. He knocked the demi-human's hand away. "Don't touch me like you know me, b*tch."

The wolf demi-human's ears flattened, and his hackles rose. "What did you call me?!"

"You heard me." Thalamik's voice dropped, dangerously cold.

Tension exploded. The wolf demi-human lunged, claws raking the air. Thalamik sidestepped with surprising agility, then drove a hard punch into the wolf's side, sending him staggering. Isval and the other elf trio tried to intervene, but Thalamik was already a whirlwind of raw strength. Another fist connected with the wolf-man's jaw, sending him crumpling to his knees.

"You're done, or do you want more?" Thalamik hissed. Yet, the wolf-man's friends—also demi-humans—rushed in. One swiped at Thalamik's back; another aimed a kick at his legs. Thalamik ducked low, veins pulsing with mana-infused adrenaline.

"Enough of this," he snarled, raising his hand. Magical energy swirled in the air, coalescing into three armored figures: Ghoul Warriors clad in black plating. It was Arcuest, Visha, and Passete. Their hollow eyes glowed with unearthly light as they stepped forward, brandishing weapons.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Thalamik felt a gaze upon him.

 An elven lecturer watching from a distance tensed but did not immediately intervene—her wary gaze locked on Thalamik's summoned fiends. Perhaps she was using some kind of magic to see him from afar.

Thalamik smirked as he noticed her.

His expression all but roared: This is how strong I am—don't mess with me.

The wolf demi-human's reinforcements charged, but Thalamik's ghouls met them head-on. The clash was swift and brutal. The ghoul warriors overwhelmed the demi-humans with precise, devastating blows, knocking them to the ground. Some scrambled away, clearly outmatched by Thalamik's undead summons.

Within moments, the courtyard grew eerily silent, save for the ragged breathing of the defeated. 

15 Wolf Demi-humans.

2 Elves.

It was the total strength of Arcuest, Passete, and Visha.

Heck, Thalamik's fiends didn't even get serious.

Isval, the only elf left, stared at him in horror. "You... what the hell are you? How is this even possible?"

"Heh. This just goes to show how weak you all are compared to me. Bottom feeders like you shouldn't exist." Thalamik stepped forward towards Isval, with eyes filled with fiery mana.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Hands rose from the ground as Isval's feet were grabbed.

The rest of the crowd suddenly ran away, leaving Isval alone. 

"I beg you... don't kill me..." Isval pleaded. Yet It's just not happening. 

No one is allowed to talk down to humankind.

Especially elves that Thalamik hated so much.

This was truly a stroke of bad luck on Isval's side.

He grabbed his dagger as energy began to fill it whole, ready to decorate Isval's body in unspeakable horrors.

"Thal that's enough..." A voice of reason came to him. Thalamik looked back to see Raymed who is holding his right arm which is holding a dagger.

He glared at Raymed with intensity the bloodlust he had harbored was once again blocked by Raymed. The need for release, for catharsis by killing Isval is what Thalamik needed for him to feel joy.

"Are you really thinking of doing this kind of thing to every bottom-feeder elf like these? Look at him. He can't even fight at your level. You killing him will be too good for his own good."

Thalamik was caught off guard by Ray's statement.

"He will become famous because The Fiend Kaiser killed him. That would be a problem for me, too. I don't want to make the elvenkind that I detest popular." Raymed said.

Huft.

Thalamik sighed as he cancelled his summons and relieved Isval of his restraints. He glared at the Isval one more time, shoulders tense with lingering fury.

"You're lucky, bit*h elf," he said dismissively, turning away. "It seems my compatriots doesn't want your death for today. But still, there's always next time. Welcome to Hell."

He passed another elf lecturer, who watched him with apprehension and grudging respect. "Thanks for sparing that trash." The elf lecturer said.

Carmilla arrived just as Thalamik and Raymed was exiting the courtyard, leaving several bruised and groaning injured elves and demi-humans behind him.

"Thalamik!" Carmilla exclaimed, eyes flicking from the battered group to Thalamik's glowering face. "What happened here? Are you okay?"

Thalamik pushed past them with an irritated scoff. "I'm perfectly fine." He cast a glance over his shoulder at the sprawled bodies. "Not so sure about them, though."

Carmilla sighed in exasperation, rubbing her temples. "...you realize we just got here, right? And you're already picking fights?"

"You may not believe it, but they started it. How can I not snap when they were brave enough to spit at my foot?" Thalamik snapped.

"WHAT!? WHERE'S THAT ****** ELF AT!?" Carmilla suddenly became angry as she almost ran in the direction of Isval. 

"HEY HEY EASY~ THE FIGHTING IS OVER LET'S NOT START IT AGAIN!" Raymed made it in time to restrain Carmilla by locking her arms.

"LET ME GO LET ME KICK THAT ELF FIRST! WHO THE HELL SPITS ON SOMEONE?!"

Raymed shook his head, subdued worry evident in his eyes. "Thal...Let's… get out of here before a full-blown incident erupts. I think Carmilla is too angry to hear me out right now..."

Thalamik giggled, seeing Carmilla suddenly so angry. "Yeah, before Carmilla kills someone.."

Still bristling with anger, Carmilla frantically tried to move her arms, still restrained by Ray. Together, they hurried off. 

***

Diko sat behind his pristine desk, meticulously reviewing paperwork with practiced efficiency. As the Director of Human Students at Vanguard Academy, his daily tasks usually involved managing bureaucratic minutiae and ensuring humanity's fragile diplomatic reputation didn't shatter, particularly with so few humans present.

A crystal ball glowed suddenly on his desk, vibrating gently—a magical communicator. He tapped it casually, expecting another dull report.

"Diko here, what's—"

"Sir! There's been a fight!" The frantic voice of an elven lecturer crackled through.

Diko sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, calm down. Tell me clearly—what happened?"

"Human students attacked demi-humans and elves! It's chaos!"

Diko's eyes widened slightly in disbelief. Human students? What idiots would be stupid enough to cause trouble on their very first day?

"It was Thalamik, sir!"

"HE DID WHAT?!" Diko nearly fell from his chair, eyes bulging comically as papers flew everywhere. "Thalamik started a fight?!"

"Yes, sir! Apparently, Isval Il Opache—"

"WAIT, WAIT! THE OPACHE HEIR IS INVOLVED?! Oh my god, how is this getting worse?"

"Not only him, sir! There's a large group of injured wolf demi-humans as well!"

Diko paled, his heart sinking rapidly. Isval Il Opache and wolf demi-humans? In one go? What, did Thalamik wake up this morning determined to ignite a war?

"How bad is the damage?" Diko asked weakly, fearing the worst.

"Um…pretty severe. At least fifteen demi-humans injured, several elves traumatized… Isval Il Opache was nearly murdered—"

"HE ALMOST KILLED HIM?!" Diko nearly shrieked. "Is the kid insane?!"

The lecturer's voice wavered nervously, "It's unclear if—"

"No, it's clear! Very clear!" Diko interrupted in panic, gripping the crystal ball tightly. He slumped into his chair, taking a deep breath. "Alright… alright, keep everyone calm. I'll handle this myself. Just make sure no one else dies before I get there."

He ended the call, slowly placing the crystal ball down, then leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He could feel a headache of legendary proportions rapidly building behind his eyes.

"What the hell was Instructor Hale thinking, sending those three here?" Diko groaned aloud, massaging his temples. He vividly recalled just yesterday receiving a frantic call from the immigration elves at the airport.

-~

"Director Diko! Help! A human is raising mana and trying to board a plane to escape registration! He's terrifying the passengers!"

-~

At that moment, Diko had desperately wondered what sort of lunatics Hale had recommended. Yet, he'd given them the benefit of the doubt—perhaps the airport incident was just an unfortunate first-day misunderstanding.

Clearly, he'd underestimated them.

"Maybe before her death, Hale's has finally lost her mind," he mumbled to himself gloomily.

Yet, despite his frustration, Diko couldn't fully dismiss them. After all, these "lunatics" were the same trio who'd faced off against two Demon Lord Envoys—Paimon and Baal—and actually survived with minimal damage to citizens.

Diko vividly remembered reading that astonishing report. Hale described their battle power in detail, calling them "promising candidates" but also "potential headaches." At the time, Diko laughed, thinking Hale was joking.

Clearly, she hadn't been joking.

Diko groaned aloud, head still on his desk. "They defeat Demon Lord Envoys but lose to basic social interaction… unbelievable." He rubbed his temples vigorously, trying to alleviate his growing headache. "But if they really are capable of defeating someone like Baal… maybe—just maybe—it's still worth dealing with their insanity."

With a resigned huff, he tapped the crystal again. "Security, it's Diko. Could you please find Thalamik, Raymed, and Carmilla and kindly—no, scratch that—FORCEFULLY bring them to my office? Immediately. And if Thalamik starts raising mana again, tell him I'll personally burn every family photo he owns."

"Sir… family photos?"

"Trust me. Just mention it," Diko said darkly, recalling Hale's weirdly specific advice on Thalamik management. "He'll calm down."

"Understood, sir."

Ending the call, Diko slouched deeply into his chair, staring up at the ceiling. He muttered to himself, half-smiling despite everything. "You three better come through when it counts… because at this rate, you're shaving years off my lifespan."

He paused, then added quietly, "And please, please… stop assaulting noble elves on your first day."

He remembered that this was their first day here at Vanguard Academy.

"It's only day one…" he muttered miserably into the pile. "God help me."