The first thing Kael noticed as the academy isnd came into view was how massive it truly was—not just an academy, but an entire city suspended in the skies. Stone roads wound between tall buildings made of polished marble and dark granite, their windows lined with enchanted gss that shimmered with mana pulses. Merchant shops lined the outer districts, their signs advertising spellbooks, enchanted armaments, and alchemical supplies.

  In the distance, rising like a bck crown at the heart of the floating isle, stood the grand fortress-castle of Astraxus Academy.

  It was built of dark basalt stone, veined with silver runes that hummed quietly even from afar. Spires twisted into the clouds, and aerial patrols of flying golems circled the tallest tower. The sheer scale made Kael narrow his eyes.

  ‘Took at least thirty years just to build that castle,’ he thought.

  ‘Thirty-five, minimum,’ Soren muttered in his mind, as if calcuting mortar, bor cycles, and enchantment rates. ‘Unless they cheated with spatial folding runes. Possible. Unlikely.’

  ‘Impressive,’ Tyran said with quiet awe. ‘That fortress was built to survive a war, not just teach magic. I can feel the weight of blood in the stone.’

  Kael adjusted the strap of his pack and followed the group of newly selected students as their escort, the professor in bck robes, led them off the cart path and into the outer gate of the city.

  “You’ve all passed initial testing,” the professor said curtly, motioning toward a wide avenue that led between two imposing buildings. “Follow that path to the registration counters. Present the evaluation notes I handed you earlier. After that, you’ll be assigned rooms and given your orientation instructions.”

  The group of ten, including Kael, shuffled forward. None of the others spoke—some were awed, some frightened. Kael, meanwhile, observed everything: the quality of the stonework, the style of the streetmps—enchanted crystals powered by steady mana flows—and the mana currents that thrummed just beneath the cobblestone road.

  ‘So much magic here,’ Finn murmured in his thoughts. ‘This pce breathes power. We’re finally in the lion’s den, huh?’

  They reached the registration counters under a domed stone arch. There were already hundreds of students in line, most dressed in finely tailored clothes—nobles, Kael realized. They stood with poise and ease, exchanging idle gossip or already forming cliques. The commoners, by contrast, were subdued, heads low and eyes wary.

  Kael stepped forward when it was his turn, handed his evaluation slip silently, and received a wax-stamped folder, a sealed envelope, and a dormitory slip in return. The attendant didn’t meet his eyes, merely waved him on to the main castle gates.

  He passed through the giant reinforced doors with his fellow recruits. They emerged into a great hall of obsidian stone and white marble, gilded veins tracing the ceiling like consteltions. Rows of seating were arranged before a raised dais and podium carved from deep mahogany. The seats closest to the stage were already filled with nobles—gold and silver pins gleaming, confident voices chatting away. The back rows were where the commoners gathered.

  Kael walked past them without a word and sat in the front row, sliding into an empty seat between two stiff noble boys. He felt their eyes on him like daggers. He didn’t care.

  ‘If you’re going to sit in the front, make it like a king,’ Finn chuckled.

  Kael adjusted his posture—spine straight, shoulders broad, expression unreadable. He folded his hands on his p and stared directly at the podium.

  The chatter died down as footsteps echoed from the right side of the hall. A man emerged—tall, broad-shouldered, with braided long bck hair and a dense beard trimmed with care. His robes were yered in deep violet, inscribed with gold thread that seemed to ripple with arcane power.

  He reached the podium and raised a hand. Silence.

  “Welcome,” he said in a calm, resonant voice, “to Astraxus Academy of the Arcane & Martial. My name is Erian Myrr. Some of you know me by other names: Archmage, 8th Circle Mage, Humanity’s Strongest, and so on. But for the duration of your time here, you will call me Headmaster.”

  The air shifted as if the hall itself were listening.

  “I’ll keep this simple. There are three rules in this academy,” he said, raising one finger. “First—no nobility, no royalty. Only students, judged by merit alone.”

  Second finger. “No fighting among students, unless sanctioned as a duel agreed upon by both sides.”

  Third finger. “If you break these rules… I will be your punishment. Not your families. Not your nations. Me.”

  A tense stillness followed, then Erian smiled faintly. “Study well. Cause as little chaos as possible. Or at least make it interesting.”

  He stepped back and vanished with a shimmer of space-folding magic.

  The moment he left, nobles began moving—finding familiar faces, forming cliques, and measuring rivals. Kael stayed seated, his eyes scanning quietly.

  ‘We need allies,’ Finn said. ‘Even kings have friends.’

  Kael’s gaze nded on a girl across the hall—fair white skin, short bob-cut red hair, piercing blue eyes. She wore a clean white blouse tucked into brown trousers and a long bck cloak. She noticed his gaze and strode toward him.

  She stopped in front of him, arms crossed. “Do you have something to say to me?”

  Kael looked up. “I just thought you looked good with short hair. Long would suit you too.”

  She raised a brow. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

  Kael shrugged. “Maybe.”

  ‘Smooth,’ Finn whispered, giving a mental thumbs-up.

  The girl smirked, then turned and walked away.

  Soon, an attendant passed out dormitory slips and uniforms—bck and blue cloth stitched with white thread, gold striping down the shoulders and cuffs. The crest of Astraxus—a wand and bde crossed inside a circle—was embedded over the heart.

  Kael made his way through a hallway that wound deeper into the castle until he found his assigned room: 305B. He turned the key and stepped inside.

  It was small but well-furnished: a single bed with fresh linen, a wooden desk and chair, a cupboard for clothes, and a gss-paned door leading to a pristine bathroom. The toilet was a modern construct—waste siphoned via enchantment to some central dumping site.

  As Kael examined it, a door nearby opened, and he heard footsteps.

  He stepped out into the hallway. The red-haired girl from earlier stood at the door opposite his, holding her slip.

  “You again?” she said, eyeing him.

  Kael extended a hand. “Kael. Nice to meet you, neighbor.”

  She narrowed her eyes, then shook it. “Maya. Not very nice to meet you too… neighbor.”

  She entered her room and shut the door.

  Kael smiled faintly and went back inside.

  ‘She’ll be an ally,’ Finn said. ‘Mark my words. She’s sharp. Dangerous.’

  ‘We should befriend her,’ Tyran agreed. ‘A warrior’s eyes. She’s no pretender.’

  ‘More importantly,’ Soren interjected, ‘we need information. Siddharth, make a list of magic topics we need to research in the library. This academy gave us nothing about our Hybrid core.’

  ‘Already working on it,’ Siddharth replied. ‘We’ll need to study known core evolutions, mana channeling techniques, spell matrices, aura weaving…’

  Kael sat on his bed and stared at the ceiling, their voices weaving in and out like a council meeting echoing across the walls of his mind.

  ‘Tomorrow, we learn,’ he said. ‘But tonight… let’s rest.’

  He closed his eyes and let the quiet hum of the academy settle around him like a bnket of unseen stars.