Dune exhaled slowly, centering himself. Then, with a burst of movement, he launched forward, four Nebasteps igniting beneath his feet in rapid succession.
Each green Neba platform exploded the instant he touched it, propelling him forward through the air. His movements were fluid, precise, as if he were gliding on controlled detonations.
He landed smoothly, turning back to the council. "It's a movement ability," he explained. "I gained it after killing a creature called Bulby.
It helps me move faster, dodge attacks, and slow my descent from high places if necessary... I can even use it to enhance my strikes, increasing my force."
The king and the others observed in silence, but Magma's expression darkened.
"The God's Trial... blessed? So, one survived from Sanatria? I see, Enren was right... So this is Dune, Enren mentioned that Dune is dangerous and needs to be eliminated."
Magma's hands curled into fists.
Ramires nodded, analyzing Dune's demonstration. "So, it's a movement-based ability." Then his eyes sharpened. "And your Zeten? What is it?"
Dune answered evenly. "I don't have an animal for my Zeten yet."
A brief silence. Then, Aramir spoke, his gaze unreadable. "What did your god tell you when he granted you this blessing?"
Dune hesitated. As I thought... they know about the Trials. But how much do they really understand? And he seems to not know my god's name... would it be smart to tell him?
" "He" told me that my blessing would help me control my Zeten, that it would be much harder for me to lose control. He also said that Rendely would accept me."
Aramir sighed. "After Bloodrose Academy tests end, you and the other two will live near the castle. If word spreads beyond this chamber, if anyone outside learns of this, I will have no choice but to kill the three of you. Do you understand?"
Dune clenched his fists but nodded. But what about Magma? He is not from Sanatria, did i make a mistake? I should've not revealed my identity in front of him!*
Magma, clearly furious, slammed his hand against the armrest of his chair. "Aramir, what are you thinking?" His voice was laced with barely contained rage. "You're letting three Zetens live under your nose? If they lose control, they could wipe out your entire city! Do you really think the other rulers will stand by and accept this madness?"
Aramir's gaze turned to Magma, cold, unwavering. "Magma, look around you. This is not your kingdom. You do not rule here."
His voice was steady, but the weight behind his words was undeniable. "Do not presume to tell me how to govern my continent. You are a guest so... Act like one."
A flicker of pure anger flashed in Magma's eyes. His hand twitched, his Purple Neba flaring to life. "And what if I kill this boy right now?"
A low chuckle echoed through the chamber.
"Magma..." Cel leaned forward, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Do you really have a death wish? Go ahead. Try it. Let's see who's faster."
His arrogant smirk only fueled Magma's rage. A dangerous tension filled the air, one wrong move and the room would explode into battle.
But Magma exhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down. His voice was tight with frustration. "All I'm saying is that this is a reckless decision. It would be far wiser to eliminate the problem while it's still small."
Aramir's response was absolute. "That decision is ours to make."
Magma scoffed, shaking his head in disappointment.
Dune watched them all, still uncertain about what he had just witnessed.
Then, after a moment, Ramires cleared his throat. "You may leave now. Your score will be displayed on the board when the trial ends."
Dune hesitated for only a second before turning toward the exit. As he stepped through the heavy doors, the weight on his shoulders finally lessened.
For the first time since stepping into that chamber... he could breathe.
That went better than I expected.
A few minutes later, Aramir stepped onto the elevated platform, his presence alone commanding silence from the gathered crowd. His gaze swept over the participants before he finally spoke.
"With that, the second test comes to an end. Now, we will reveal the current rankings, combining the scores from both the first and second tests."
A massive screen flickered to life behind him, displaying the updated leaderboard:
1. Azrael Rodeny – 5000
2. Leonard Amellia – 4500
3. Cedric Valefort – 4000
4. Seraph Neville – 4000
5. Dune – 3800
6. Edward Ederyus – 3500
7. Syras Vermillion – 3200
8. Lucas Neville – 3000
Raphael Caelum – 2800
10. Magnus Solberg – 2500
The crowd murmured as they took in the rankings, some in awe, others in frustration.
Dune exhaled slowly, his eyes scanning the names above his. Fifth place. He had expected something along these lines, but what he didn't understand was how they were grading him. What exactly determined the value of one's power? Strength? Versatility? Potential? What made their abilities superior?
Also how did Seraph got so many points? I wonder what her ability is?
Beside him, Ned frowned, arms crossed, deep in thought. But his mind wasn't on the rankings themselves, no, something else bothered him. Azrael Rodeny. Who was that? First place, 5000 points, towering above the rest.
"That guy at the top," Ned muttered under his breath. "I've never heard of him before. He had high score like Dune in the previous test too, but seems like his ability is also really strong.
Atlas let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took in the results.
"Well, not surprising," he said, voice neutral.
He and Ned had dropped out of the top ten completely.
"None of us have anything flashy. Speed, precision, maybe some adaptability, but nothing overwhelming. The ones at the top? They've probably got abilities that can dominate the battlefield."