Chapter seventeen: Shadows in the Exams

“You ready, honey?” Cid asked, stepping into the room. “Everyone’s waiting. We need to go.”

Fenrona stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the new clothes Cid had brought for her. Her silver hair cascaded like a river of moonlight over her shoulders, wolf ears twitching slightly. She turned, a faint smile on her lips.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Cid closed the distance, his eyes softening. “As beautiful as ever,” he said, kissing her gently. “But we should go. The others are waiting.”

Downstairs, Emily, Alpha, Charls, and Johny stood ready, each dressed in the enchanted suits Cid had prepared for the Divisions, weapons strapped at their sides. Their faces were hard, determined.

“Come on, everyone,” Cid said, voice steady.

Jun appeared at the door, her hands folded. “Good luck to you all,” she said warmly, watching them depart.

The Hero Academy towered near the heart of the capital, not far from the royal castle itself. Its vast colosseum was ringed by classrooms, the entire structure shrouded in layers of protective magic. Spells hummed faintly in the air like static before a storm.

“Show them what you’re made of,” Cid told the others as they entered through the gates.

Inside, soldiers barked orders, directing the hopefuls.

“Women to the right! Men to the left!”

Fenrona hesitated. “We can’t be together?”

“I guess not,” Cid said, kissing her once more. “Good luck, honey.” Then he joined the men’s line.

The room was crowded with boys—most between sixteen and eighteen. Cid scanned them, his particle sense sharpening. Most were unimpressive, sparks in a storm. But one boy, quiet and unassuming, radiated power unlike the others. His particles surged around him like an unseen tide.

“You’re not from here, are you?” a sharp voice sneered behind him.

Cid turned slightly, meeting the eyes of a youth with noble features and blue hair. His aura reeked of arrogance.

“You’re right,” Cid said calmly. “I’m from one of the nearby villages. A hunter who moved here.” He had no interest in trouble, but nobles always had a way of finding it.

“You don’t belong here,” the boy said coldly. “Neither you, nor that half-wolf whore you call your woman. Go back to where you came from.”

The words snapped something inside Cid. He stepped forward, his gaze like steel. “Talk about my wife again, and I’ll kill you.”

The boy smirked. “Then maybe I’ll allow you to stay—if your woman becomes my slave.” He laughed. But his laughter died instantly as Cid’s figure blurred and appeared in front of him, eyes burning.

“Try me again, kid,” Cid said, voice low and deadly.

“Cid, stop!” Charls’ voice cut through the tension. “That’s the king’s nephew. The son of his brother.”

Cid didn’t move. “I don’t care who he is. He talks about my wife like that again, he dies.”

The noble’s face paled. “Fine, fine—it was just a joke.” He forced a laugh, but his voice trembled.

Before it could escalate further, a man in white robes stepped onto the platform. His voice carried authority.

“Attention! The exams are about to begin. First, strip down to your underclothes. Hand over your weapons and garments to your assigned servant. Remember their faces—if you pass, they will become your attendants, and you will take them home.”

Grumbling rose through the crowd as the candidates obeyed. Cid stripped without hesitation, the scar of a dragon bite carved across his stomach catching the eye of many.

“Sir, I’ll take those,” said a young woman approaching. Her hands trembled as she reached for his clothing.

Cid studied her. “What’s your name? I don’t usually let a lady do this.”

“My name is Bell,” she said softly. “Please, sir.”

“Fine,” Cid said, handing her his clothes. He kept his swords at his side. “But these stay with me.”

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Bell allowed herself a tiny smile before showing him where to place the blades for safekeeping.

From the stage, the examiner in white watched Cid carefully, his gaze fixed on the dark blades. I can’t feel him at all, he thought. But those swords… they devour light itself. Like black holes. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the scar. A dragon bite…

He leaned toward his assistant. “Who is that tall man with the scar?”

The assistant checked her list. Her face drained of color. “Cidolfus Lynvern. A hunter. And… oh no.”

“What is it?” the man demanded.

“It says here—report immediately to Lord Logfer if he ever appears.”

The examiner’s chest tightened. “That’s bad. Send someone. Now. Find Logfer. He’s somewhere in the Academy.”

“Sir, no one knows where he is,” the assistant whispered.

“Then I’ll go myself.” He sprinted from the room, robes trailing.

Minutes later, he burst into a chamber. “Lord!” he gasped.

Roly, seated at the table, turned slowly. “What is it?”

“Cidolfus Lynvern is here. He’s taking the exams.”

Roly’s eyes narrowed, his composure cracking. “And why am I only hearing of this now?”

“We didn’t catch it in the records,” the examiner stammered.

“Damn fools,” Roly muttered, rising to his feet. “Then let’s go.” He strode toward the exam hall, cloak swirling like a storm at his heels.

They entered the exam hall to find the crowd buzzing with unease. Roly stood on the stage, his eyes scanning the candidates until they lingered briefly on Cid.

“Sorry for the delay,” Roly said, voice steady but sharp. “Something important came up. Now, the exams will proceed as follows: a physical check—to measure strength and flexibility. Then, a magic check—to determine the stability of your core and what stage of magic you can project. Finally, those who pass will enter the arena battles, as is tradition. Passing into the arena means admission, but your performance there will decide your class.”

Murmurs swept through the candidates.

“I’ll read the names,” the assistant announced. “Each of you will go with your servant to the examination chambers.”

Roly gave a curt nod. “Good luck to you all.” With that, he departed the stage.

Minutes passed until a familiar soft voice called from the doorway.

“Sir, come with me—it’s your turn,” Bell said.

Inside the chamber, Bell gestured nervously toward the equipment. “We’ll begin with the physical checks.”

Cid tilted his head. “Do you really want to do this?”

“I have to, sir,” she said. Her eyes flickered across his frame. “For how long have you been training?”

“All my life,” Cid answered evenly. “And you? Are you a slave?”

Bell avoided the question, flustered. “All your life? I’ve seen men train for decades and never look like you. You’re lean… almost too lean for the strength you carry.”

“That’s what happens when you’re poor and train every day just to survive,” Cid said. He gave a faint smirk. “Bell, if I pass… do you want to be my servant?”

“I would have to,” she murmured. “Now, please—raise your leg as high as you can.”

Cid obeyed, lifting his leg without the slightest strain.

“You’re flexible too,” Bell whispered, awe creeping into her voice.

“I was a hunter for four years. If I wasn’t flexible, I’d be dead.”

“Now strike this.” She held out a polished magic stone. “Don’t use magic—it takes a great deal to even crack one.”

Cid didn’t hesitate. He drew his fist back and struck. The stone shattered into shards, exploding into the corner of the room.

Bell gasped. “I… I’ve never seen anyone do that. Not in all my life.”

“I’m sure there were a few before me,” Cid said with a shrug.

She shook her head. “Not that I know of. Who are you? You’re too strong, too lean, too flexible… like the perfect body given the strength of a dragon.”

Cid’s lips curved into a small smile. “I’m just a hunter.”

The magic check followed. Bell held her focus over him, but her expression grew puzzled. “Why… why can’t I sense your magic?”

“Because I don’t have one,” Cid said simply, explaining his curse and particle mastery in brief.

Bell handed him back his clothing at last. “Then we’re done.”

Cid dressed, adjusting his swords. He paused, meeting her eyes. “Bell—you’re welcome at my house, whether I pass or not. My wife would love you.” With that, he left, not hearing her quiet whisper: You… have a wife?

Outside, Charls waited. “So, how was it?”

“Fine,” Cid replied. “And you?”

“They were surprised,” Charls admitted. “Though I don’t know why the magic exams were separate.”

“It’s because of me,” Cid muttered. “That bastard Roly marked me. He was the one who showed me where my house was when I moved here. He knows about me. And Fang—the king—knows too, but I doubt it was him.”

Charls blinked. “Did you just call Lord Logfer a bastard? And you… used the king’s first name?”

Cid smirked faintly. “Roly pissed me off when we met, so I call him a bastard. And the king told me to call him Fang.”

Johny joined them, arms crossed. “So, you two are done? Good. Now we wait for results.”

Minutes later, the hall filled once more. Roly strode onto the stage, his presence commanding silence.

“Everyone—today’s examinations were unusual, but the results are clear. It’s time to announce who excelled.” He paused, eyes flicking toward Cid. “This year’s first place in the Hero Academy entrance exams… Cidolfus Lynvern.”

A stunned silence followed before a familiar voice cried out. “What?! That outsider can’t be first place!”

Roly’s gaze snapped to the noble boy. “And you? The only reason you’re standing here is because of your father’s name. Shut your mouth.”

The hall roared with whispers as Roly continued.

“Second place Charls Dorin. Third Johny Hursen. Fourth Bill Fourman…”

Cid narrowed his eyes. So that boy’s name is Bill Fourman. I’ll be seeing more of him.

When the names were finished, Roly raised his hand. “Those called will come with me. The rest—try again next year.”

The chosen filed out, weapons at their sides, until at last they stood before the massive Colosseum. The air shimmered with magic, the roar of unseen enchantments echoing faintly across the stone walls.

The arena trials had begun.