The ascension trial
Chapter 4 – Trial Formations
The next morning started like any other.
I woke to the soft hum of mana-lights warming across the dorm hall. Footsteps echoed faintly—measured and quiet for the nobles, rushed for the commoners, silent for the ones who didn't want to be seen at all.
I wasn't sure where I belonged.
The scar on my arm still throbbed faintly beneath the mana band. Healed, but not erased. I dressed, pulled my cloak close, and stepped into the main campus.
The buzz started before I reached the east wing.
"Did you check the board yet?"
"They're posting group trials already?"
"But most haven't stabilized their affinities..."
The crowd thickened near the central courtyard. Banners floated above glowing tiles, while runes pulsed across a towering crystal board.
INTERCLASS FIELD TRIAL — TEAM FORMATIONS POSTED
I didn't push forward. Just listened.
"Group 17... what kind of lineup is this?"
I glanced at the board.
Group 17:
Cael Valeon
Nia Ferrel
Jorvan Lyle
Tobin Crake
No familiar names.
"That's the throwaway group," someone muttered.
"Crake's a repeater. Lyle has no affinity. Nia fainted during awakening."
"And Cael..."
"Logic weakling. That group's doomed."
Perfect.
I stepped away before the smile reached my face.
---
Professor Elian addressed us in the high chamber later that morning. Her voice was razor-clear.
"The Interclass Trial begins at dawn. Three days."
Her gaze swept the room.
"Each team will enter a sealed wild zone. Secure the artifact. Survive the waves. Defeat the classified target."
A pause.
"Success impacts house credits, class rankings, and sponsorship eligibility."
Another pause.
"Only three teams will be named victors. The rest? Partial credit. If you survive."
Silence. Then:
"Dismissed."
---
Outside the hall, I passed Eran Vellhart—flawless uniform, smirk sharpened like a blade.
"Don't trip over your team, Logic-boy," he said. "Would be a shame if your first mission was your last."
I didn't blink.
"That would be tragic," I said. "Especially before I finish dissecting your spell formations."
His smirk twitched.
Small win. Calculated.
---
Later, I met my team.
Tobin Crake—broad shoulders, Level 11 Earth Affinity, said nothing but kept glancing down.
Jorvan Lyle—lanky, anxious, no recorded affinity. Claimed his family bought his place.
Nia Ferrel—thin, red-haired, Level 12 Illusion Affinity. Mana unstable. Eyes sharp, but distant.
We stood in awkward silence.
"We're Group 17," I said. "They expect us to fail."
Jorvan laughed nervously. "They're not wrong."
"Then let's fail upward. Confuse them."
Nia tilted her head. "How?"
"We don't need to win. We need to survive better than expected."
No one spoke. That was fine.
Three days. That was all we had.
And I already saw the pieces forming.
---
Later, the First-Year Rankings went up.
I stood at the edge of the training field, watching students crowd the glowing board.
Top Ten First-Year Students:
1. Leron Valis Aerion – Tier 2, Level 19 – Fire / Light / Space
2. Selene D'Amaria – Tier 2, Level 18 – Water / Ice
3. Leon Aster Vael – Tier 2, Level 18 – Wind
4. Mirielle Cindros – Tier 2, Level 18 – Earth / Reinforcement
5. Kyran Voss – Tier 2, Level 17 – Electricity
6. Freya Von Drakelle – Tier 2, Level 17 – Darkness
7. Darius Feldrin – Tier 2, Level 17 – Earth / Metal
8. Arin Liora – Tier 2, Level 16 – Light
9. Vale Ignis Thorn – Tier 2, Level 16 – Fire
10. Yuna Silvra – Tier 2, Level 16 – Wind / Illusion
I wasn't on it. Of course.
"Still no Cael Valeon," someone said.
I turned. Ryn. Kess. Lira stood beside him.
"Think they forgot you?" Ryn asked.
"I'd rather be forgotten than famous and useless."
"You're halfway there," Kess muttered.
Lira, quiet as always, offered a small nod.
"You'll break through. Maybe next term."
Maybe.
I looked at my hand.
Logic. Telekinesis. Both Basic. Both dismissed.
But that was fine.
Because the best weapons weren't the loud ones.
They were the ones no one saw coming.
I stayed behind after the strategy briefing, watching the others leave. Nia hesitated by the exit, glanced back, then vanished into the halls. Jorvan was already gone. Tobin never looked up.
We weren't a team. Not yet. Just strangers forced into a circle.
I knelt in the sand, drew a rough map with my finger. The trial zone would be randomized, but the Academy's design philosophy rarely changed: open fields, elevation points, central objectives surrounded by kill zones.
Mob waves. Boss spawn. Survival under pressure.
And the artifact? Probably trapped. Probably cursed.
"Approach too fast, you trigger the defenses. Too slow, you get swarmed."
My voice echoed, low.
I needed patterns. Timings. Probabilities. Not hope.
I stood and glanced at the glowing lights of the dorm tower far off, students still buzzing with ambition. They trained with fire. Lightning. Shadow.
Me?
I had plans.
And that would be enough.
---
Later that night, the storm came.
Not a metaphor.
An actual one.
Lightning danced across the academy towers, distant and flickering, casting long shadows across the dormitory walls. Rain tapped softly at the windows of my room. Somewhere below, someone laughed—maybe drunk, maybe nervous.
I couldn't sleep.
Not because of the trial. But because of the question.
Why now?
Group trials this early didn't make sense. Most students hadn't stabilized their cores. Some hadn't even awakened their secondary affinities. And yet here we were, thrown into wild zones like chess pieces into a war.
I rolled a mana stone across my fingers and stared at the ceiling.
Something was off.
And the academy never did anything without a reason.
My door creaked.
I didn't move.
A shadow crossed the threshold.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Arin asked.
She stepped inside like it wasn't strange, like this was a conversation we'd been having for years. Same oversized robe. Same unblinking stare.
"You knew the board would be skewed," she said, sitting on the windowsill. "The groupings weren't random."
"I suspected."
"They tested something during your fight with the Clawrat," she said. "You noticed the trapdoor delay, didn't you?"
My brow twitched.
She nodded, answering herself.
"It's not just a field trial," she said softly. "It's a stress test. They want to see who breaks when the rules don't match the training."
I leaned back in my chair. "So what's your theory?"
"They're not watching to see who wins," she said. "They're watching to see who improvises."
A pause.
"I think we're the control group. Group 17. The baseline. The ones they expect to collapse so they can measure the others against us."
I laughed under my breath. "That would make us useful, at least."
She smiled faintly. "You know what they say about data: it's only valuable when something unexpected happens."
Then she stood. "Don't die during the trial. I'd be annoyed."
She was gone before I could answer.
The door clicked shut.
And I was alone again.
I sat there for a long time, letting the storm outside match the one twisting in my thoughts.
Because Arin was right.
They weren't just testing magic or formations or affinities.
They were testing adaptability.
Which meant I was exactly where I needed to be.