, Seth thought despondently as he watched Selena claim victory in the twelfth fight with a perfect arrow, striking her opponent, a Rank-10 Warrior, right between the eyes.
By now, all twenty-four participants had competed at least once. At first, Seth believed there were two he might have a chance against, but as the matches went on, he realized he’d misjudged. Anyway, the odds of facing those two specifically in each of his next rounds were slim to none.
And even if he got that lucky, the fights would still be extremely tough—especially with a broken knife and no arrows. He hadn't expected to burn through his entire quiver in the first match alone, but desperation had forced his hand.
Thankfully, he’d managed to bribe a scrawny kid from the stands to sprint back to the inn and fetch his spare bundle. If the boy didn't make it back in time, Seth wouldn't just be at a disadvantage.
"We’ll begin the second round in five minutes," Professor Reat said, walking toward Marine. "So stay close."
"Seriously, mate, I’d rather die than end up against another Rogue," Devus said beside him. He was covered in sweat and breathing like a bellows.
A pang of jealousy squeezed Seth’s chest. Sure, Dev, a Rank-11 Guardian, had needed to run a lot during his fight to reach his opponent—a Rank-10 Rogue with a bow—but he had still won. One more win and he would secure his place at Trogan Academy.
Seth forced a fake smile. "It'll probably be a Warrior or another Guardian. You'll be fine."
Devus blinked, then groaned as he straightened his back, the exhaustion seemingly evaporating in an instant.
"Yeah... Yeah, you're right!" he exclaimed, his trademark grin returning as he slapped his chest plate. "A standing target. I can easily beat those!"
Seth bit the inside of his cheek, finding it hard to sympathize with someone who was walking around with a small fortune strapped to his back.
His new friend had an enchanted spear, an enchanted shield, on top of plenty of spells—It was an advantage he himself would kill for. Seth had a feeling most participants wouldn’t even be able to break through the Guardian’s defense.
Dev hadn’t wanted to say anything about his sponsor—the one paying for his gear and spells in exchange for future services—but one thing was sure: that sponsor was stinking rich.
The young Guardian scanned the packed stands, his expression softening just a fraction. "Shame my sister isn't here to see it, though. She would've loved it."
"To see you win?" Seth asked.
"No, to see me almost pass out from running," Devus answered with a chuckle as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "I can see her laughing her head off while watching me chase that Rogue."
"Why didn't she come?"
"My aunt's orders." Devus sighed, his armor clinking as he adjusted his spear and shield. "She can't stand violence. Convinced herself she’d see me get decapitated or something even with the barrier. She’s waiting a few streets away, probably pacing a trench into the dirt, and she kept Milly with her for moral support."
He then looked at Seth. "What about you? Your folks watching?"
Seth’s grip tightened as he thought of his empty house in Sunatown. "No," he answered. "It's just me."
As he rubbed his neck ,he noticed a familiar-looking short, bald man with a red beard approaching them with a large leather bag
Seth stepped aside from the other participants to meet Renwal.
"What are you doing here?" he asked the blacksmith. "Weren’t you supposed to be at the market selling your things today?'
"Sold them all in an hour. I’m just that great." Renwal shrugged with a broad grin full of pride. "But I still missed your first fight."
"That's fine," Seth answered. "You didn't miss much. I got my ass kicked." He then showed his broken hunting knife. "And my knife didn't make it in one piece."
"Yeah, one of the spectators told me about that," Renwal said. "But he also said you nearly won!"
"But I didn’t," Seth pointed out. "And now I’ll have to fight with a broken knife and no arrows."
"And why do you think I'm here?" Renwal's grin widened. "A boy running toward our inn told me about your arrow problem, so I grabbed your extra bundle and a few more from my stocks."
The blacksmith swung the large bag off his back and stooped down to reach inside. He then took out two handfuls of arrows and set them on the ground before pulling out a sheathed hunting knife identical to Seth's, as well as a small throwing dagger.
"Take these," Renwal said, holding out both blades.
A mix of joy and gratitude washed over Seth, and for a brief moment, he couldn't speak. When words finally came out, his voice seemed to be stuck in his throat. "Thanks, Renwal."
The blacksmith rubbed the back of his bald head, looking slightly embarrassed as Seth took the weapons. "It’s no big deal. Now, you’ll have a fair—"
"Why are you giving the bumpkin more arrows? Seems rather cruel to give him false hope," came a scornful voice.
Seth turned and found Lucius Faertis, gilded arms crossed, looking down his nose at them from a few steps away. The amount of disgust etched into the noble's features was baffling.
Renwal quickly bowed. "Sorry, sir. He's a friend of mine, and I was just—"
"No one needs a ‘friend’ like this riff-raff," Lucius scoffed, cutting the blacksmith off. "Five copper coins if you keep those arrows for yourself. Perhaps then this leech will do us all a favor and resign his remaining bouts. Call it a public service for those who actually have a chance at making it into the academy."
Seth's heart skipped a beat.
"Oh, uh… sorry, sir, but I can't do that," Renwal mumbled, shaking his head. "These arrows are his, not mine. I was just holding onto them for him.''
Lucius bristled. "I don’t who’s they are—"
"Lucius. Seth. Go back with the others," Professor Reat interjected, looking even more annoyed than before. "The second round is about to begin."
Lucius shot Seth and Renwal a venomous glare before spinning on his heels and walking away.
Quickly, the blacksmith grabbed all the arrows and handed them to Seth, giving him a wink. "Your arrows."
"Thank you," Seth whispered, mouthing in disbelief.
Sure, he and Renwal had known each other for quite some time, but they were talking about . With that much, the blacksmith could have bought three awakening stones, paid for the taxes, and possibly even become a Wielder—yet he had turned down the offer without an ounce of hesitation.
A bright smile lit up Renwal's face. "Guess I'm the personal blacksmith of a Wielder now."
" my sponsor, since I didn't pay for any of this," Seth added with a shrug.
"Sure!" Renwal laughed.
Seth loaded the arrows into his quiver, strapped the new hunting blade to his legs, and tucked the throwing dagger into one of his pockets before heading back to Devus' side.
"For the second round, to keep things fair, you’ll each face someone of the opposite Rank from your first opponent," Professor Reat announced, standing next to Marine. "So, for example, if you fought one of the highest Ranks here, you'll now go against one of the lowest, and vice versa. Anyone who loses a second time must leave. Those who win will need to wait until the end of the selection to get registered by Miss Vancaws here or myself. If you have one win and one loss, you’ll fight a third match after another short break."
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Seth's heart immediately sank. All the participants were between Rank 10 and 12, except for two Rank 9s, himself at Rank 6, and three silver-spooned nobles at Rank 14—one of them being the Faertis prick. Since he had first fought Herbin, one of two Rank 9s, it meant he would now go up against one of the three Rank 14s.
And just like that, he felt his chances evaporate.
"Lucius Faertis and Seth, you're up first," Professor Reat said.
A dozen feet away, the blonde-haired noble let out a cold chuckle. "At least this time it will be quick."
As Lucius strode toward the center, Seth noticed the young noble cast a nervous, fleeting glance toward the stand of stone for the nobility. Seth followed his gaze.
There, draped in the purple and white of House Faertis, sat a small group. There was no man present—so Lucius' father, the Head of the House, hadn't come. Instead, there were two women looking utterly bored, perhaps distant relatives or aunts forced to attend. But standing next to them was a stiff-backed butler holding a piece of parchment and an enchanted quill.
The man wasn't cheering, or smiling. He was staring at Lucius with the intensity of a hawk, the quill hovering over the parchment as if ready to document every mistake.
Seth wondered.
It'd make sense with what the Wandering Merchants had discussed last night at the inn—how the sons of the House were under crushing pressure to be perfect, to be above everyone else. Lucius wasn't just here to pass; he was here to perform. Anything less than absolute dominance would likely be recorded on that parchment.
Seth also headed toward the center of the training field, glancing at the other participants on the way. Most of the nobles were grinning, clearly delighted at the idea of seeing the countryside Primalist getting his ass kicked, while others gave him piteous smiles, probably relieved wouldn't be the ones facing the Elementalist. Among the few who didn’t show joy were Devus, who wore a mournful expression, and Selena, who had yet to show a hint of actual emotion or expression since the trial began.
As the blue layer of aether enveloped him, Seth nocked an arrow at his bow and channeled aether meticulously through Quick Step’s grooves. There was no way he could actually win against the noble, but maybe he could land a hit or two, just to wipe that smirk off the man’s arrogant face.
"So, how do you want this to end?" Lucius said. "With a Fireball in your face, or… with a Fireball in your face?"
"Fight!" Professor Reat shouted, swinging his hand down.
Seth instantly loosed his arrow and sprinted forward. Aether flowed through Quick Step and plunged into his legs, filling them to the brim and strengthening each step. If he could prevent that rich bastard from casting his first Fireball, it would all come to physical attributes. Even though he hadn’t been able to see the Elementalist’ Strength and Agility, chances were they weren’t that high.
Stepping aside, Lucius dodged the arrow and began casting. In an instant, a small cloud of tiny blue particles swirled out of his wand and formed a thin, almost-invisible, crescent-shaped barrier in front of him.
Seth’s first thought was to run sideways for a better angle, but he then quickly came up with another plan.
he thought, aiming at the sky before releasing his arrow in an arc.
A Fireball appeared at the tip of Lucius' wand. "Eat tha—"
Just as the noble was about to launch his spell, he glanced up to search for the projectile, squinting against the sun's rays; the moment he moved to the side to dodge, the blazing orb hovering at his wand’s tip vanished.
Seth smirked. It seemed he and Devus had been right and the Elementalist couldn’t keep his focus with such a distraction—too bad for him. Seizing that chance, Seth pressed on, firing several more arrows high into the sky while closing the distance.
With a frustrated grunt, Lucius stopped moving and focused entirely on casting his next spell, this time pointing his wand at the ground. One of Seth's arrows struck the blue layer covering the noble’s head, yet he remained still, his face twisting with anger. The air above the arena’s floor rippled; then, like an invisible serpent, it bolted toward Seth.
Trying to predict when it would hit, Seth jumped and twisted to the side. But to his surprise, the spell halted as soon as he left the ground.
"Nice try, bumpkin. I'm controlling it," Lucius laughed.
A hand of dirt suddenly sprang from the arena’s floor and grasped Seth's leg, locking him in place. He instinctively tried to yank himself free, pushing even more aether into Quick Step’s grooves, but without success—the hand had turned into solid rock. Even with all his aether, there was no way he could break out. The fight was over.
Seth thought, pouring every bit of his remaining aether in his right arm, bearing through the ripping pain as his muscles bulged and swelled.
"Look at you," Faertis snarled, summoning a fireball while the barrier in front of him began to fade. "One spell and you’re completely helpless."
Right when the flame reached the size of a head, Lucius hurled it toward Seth. Leg still trapped in the stone, Seth ducked forward—the blazing ball licked at his back before exploding behind him. Using his bent torso for cover, he quickly grabbed the last part of Renwal's gift, which was still inside his pocket.
Seth then straightened up in a flash and violently whipped his arm, flinging the throwing knife toward Lucius’ face. The blade pierced through the thin, flickering barrier with ease and struck the Elementalist right between his eyes, bouncing off against the aether layer on his skin.
The knife clattered to the ground, and an absolute silence fell over the training field. Everyone in the stands seemed to be holding their breath.
Seth fought through the aether-deprived weakness and stayed on his feet, staring at Lucius' shocked face. That prick had finally shut his mouth.
Lucius didn't look at Seth, though. The noble's eyes darted nervously toward the stands, locking onto the stiff-backed butler dressed in House's colors. The servant was writing something down—calmly and methodically. Probably nothing good.
Lucius’s face contorted, his shock replaced by humiliated anger.
As Seth's muscles trembled and spasmed, he laboriously raised his hand despite the intense pain searing through his shoulder. The violent throwing motion amplified by the large amount of aether had likely torn something inside. He could barely keep himself upright, let alone draw his bow. With no aether or way to maneuver, the fight was a foregone conclusion.
Seth sighed, at least he’d gotten some hits in.
"Professor Reat, I'd like to forfeit."
The moment the black-haired man turned to him, raising an arm to indicate the forfeit was acknowledged, Seth found himself involuntarily relaxing. It was over. There was no point fighting anymore. His Well was completely empty, and his legs were barely supporting him. Continuing would only make him look like a complete fool.
A sudden blinding flash filled Seth’s vision, then a crushing force snapped his head back. A sharp, intense pain surged through his leg as he fell backward, the stone hand still clenching his limb tightly in place but leaving his knee free to bend.
Flat on his back, Seth gritted his teeth, barely suppressing a scream while staring up at the cloudless sky.
Professor Reat's loud voice boomed across the ring. "Lucius! Stand !"
Wincing, Seth propped himself up on one elbow, and a second later a warm, comforting breeze enveloped him and reduced the giant hand around his leg to dust.
"Attacking when your opponent has surrendered? Really?" Professor Reat’s typically tired, unfazed expression was now a brewing storm. "If you weren't a Faertis, I’d eject you right now!"
Lucius smirked. "He didn’t speak clearly. I couldn't hear—"
"Oh, Gaia’s balls, you are a smug little prick. Keep your mouth shut and go with the others," the professor hissed, glaring at the blond noble.
Lucius reeled as if he’d be struck, eyes bulging and cheeks reddening. He frantically glanced toward the stands once more, seeking some sign of outrage on his behalf, but to his dismay, neither the two women from his House nor the butler seemed to react. Even worse, the servant didn't even look up; he just continued writing on his parchment.
"How you speak to me like that?" he finally retorted, the humiliation distorting his perfect features. "My father would kill you if I asked him to."
The professor threw his hands up. "Great! Tell him I'll be at my home between seven and ten. Now, and stop wasting everyone's time."
Seth staggered to his feet, wincing as a sharp pain flared through his left leg. He tested his weight cautiously, taking a hesitant step forward. Thankfully, the pain was bearable, hinting that no bones were broken inside. Clenching his searing shoulder, he then limped toward Renwal, who was standing by the nearest stand.
Devus flashed him two thumbs up from the edge of the ring, prompting a smile from Seth and a farewell wave. The odds of crossing paths again with the Guardian were slim.
Renwal’s eyes narrowed as Seth approached him. "You alright?"
Seth nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Yeah. Pretty sure I tore something in my shoulder and leg, but I’ll be fine."
"You should stop by Vandric's before he leaves," the blacksmith answered. "He could take a look."
"I'll see how's the pain tomorrow," Seth replied, testing his arm with a small wince. "If it's worse, I'll go."
Renwal scratched his beard, giving Seth a quick once-over before crossing his arms. "So, that’s why you forfeited? Because of your arm?"
"And because I was out of aether," Seth replied before vigorously rubbing his legs. "Figured it was better than eating Fireball after Fireball to the face."
"And yet that’s exactly what happened," Renwall chuckled.
Seth rolled his golden eyes. "I’d like to see fight an Elementalist. Maybe your belly could block the attacks for you."
"At least I wouldn’t have caused such a scene," the blacksmith answered, glancing at Lucius among the other participants. "Pissing off a noble from the Faertis House wasn’t exactly your best idea."
"No, but it felt great." Seth said, his lips raising into a crooked smile. "And I couldn’t just let that spoiled brat have an easy win. Also, his family is making our lives a nightmare, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know, but still," the blacksmith sighed before rubbing his face. "We better stay out of sight until we leave." He then paused and looked at the two young women who were taking place at the center of the arena. "Do you wanna find somewhere discreet to watch the other fights?"
Seth shook his head. "Nah. I've got something else to do."
Marine had told him to go see Professor Reat before leaving, but now that Seth had lost twice, what was the point? Staying would only waste time. Instead, he should focus on what truly mattered.
Ever since awakening as a Primalist, he’d mentally prepared himself for the possibility of failing the selections. Deep down, the disappointment didn’t hit as hard as he’d expected—especially now that he had Nightmare at his side.
Sure, getting into Trogan Academy would’ve been nice, but it had only ever been a stepping-stone toward his real goal. The academy meant access to knowledge—about Wielders, aether, attributes, combat techniques, spellcraft, the Path. About how to grow stronger and finally break free from the miserable life of relentless work under the boot of the tax collector and the noble Houses.
But since he failed the selections, he’d have to find another way to gain that knowledge on his own.
"What’s that?" Renwal asked, raising an eyebrow.
A smile crossed Seth's face. "Joining the Adventurers Guild."
January 15, 2026 (7h15PM)
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