St Chaos Healer

The atmosphere was electric as the audience waited with bated breath for the ascension ceremony to commence. The arena seating area was arranged with nine stands, each adorned with marble benches and lavish marble stone chairs fit for grandmasters. The audience was a diverse bunch, each one of them had a sense of nobility and a powerful aura around them. They also seem to be a lot more respectful to their respective grandmasters.

Among the attendees were prominent figures, renowned for their influential leadership roles. Their retainers mirrored the same dignified aura as their masters, adding to the overall grandeur of the event.

All eyes were on Sigurd, who stood in the center of the arena stage. The arena appeared to be complete but it was not-

Without warning, Sigurd looked up towards his floating doll fortress, which began to vibrate and glow with an eerie light. In a sudden burst of energy, three orbs of light emerged from the fortress and scattered in different directions, landing on the arena with a resounding thud.

We watched in awe as the orbs grew larger, transforming into three distinct objects.

The first orb shifted into two massive slabs of a wall, positioned at a right angle. It was adorned with intricate designs, inscribed with glowing runes and sparkling gemstones. The wall slab looked like an ancient relic, imbued with a mystical power reaching a height of about 5 meters high.

The second orb transformed into a dead tree made of metal with no leaves. Its branches stretched out in different directions, and its roots were uprooted and visible to everyone. However, the metal tree had a big hole in its trunk, which made it look ominous and foreboding.

The third and final orb metamorphosed into the eeriest and most unsettling object of them all. It transformed into a human exoskeleton, which appeared to be in a mummified state. Unlike a typical skeleton, this one had a reddish hue and more bones than an average human. The exoskeleton was seated in a meditative pose, with glowing gemstones embedded inside its ribcage, barely visible.

The candidates were a bit unsettled with what they were seeing.

Trisha broke the silence and said,

“These are the final trials that will determine which noble academy you get into. It's essential that you behave in an appropriate manner unless you want to upset a grandmaster and lose the chance to get invited.”

Trisha started to fix her white uniform and hair by combing it with her fingers. Soon after, the other candidates began to follow suit. Hendrickson licked his hand and started fixing his hair, while Jason was busy wiping Marcia's eyes and cleaning her nose.

Fortunately, I had a small comb in my pocket that my mother had bought for me.
I started to fix my hair by neatly combing it.

Suddenly, a boy next to me asked, "Hey, can you pass that comb of yours?"

I looked at the boy, an innocent smiling brat who stretched his hand towards me. He had a very goodie smile and seemed to be very friendly in nature. He was short in size and reached just almost to my shoulder length.

Suddenly, the nerves on my forehead throbbed. This boy was the eight-arm freak who had picked a fight with me not long ago, the same big-headed twerp who was about to attack me with his newfound abilities. And now, he was trying to borrow my comb as if nothing had ever happened.

“Sure, I'll lend you my comb, but only if you get on your knees and apologize for your arrogant behavior earlier,” I replied.

"You... Why would I get on my knees for some comb?" he asked, his innocent smile turning into an ugly scowl.

People might forget who has been kind to them, but they for sure won’t forget who has been rude to them.

"Well, if that's the case, then you can just spit in your hand and fix your hair like Hendrickson over there. But if you need my spit, I'm happy to help. And I'll do it for free." I replied sarcastically.

"Why, you!" grumbled the eight-arm twerp. Without his eight-arm form, he looked like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

"Benjamin, do you have a problem with how I comb my hair?" grumbled Hendrickson, who happened to overhear me. He approached me, cracking his knuckles.

I looked at him in an aloof manner and said,

"Now, there's no need to get violent. The grandmasters and their retainers are watching us. You might kiss goodbye to their invites if you act like some street thug."

With that, Hendrickson stopped in his tracks, and all he could do was swallow his anger and stand like a moron.

Trisha glanced at me with a disappointed face and said, "Why are you acting so crass and dampening the mood before the ascension ceremony?"

I scoffed and replied,

"If something as small as this can affect your performance in the trials, maybe you aren't suited to be here in the first place. We are all competitors here after all"

"Well, I wanted us to act like a team for once. This might be the last time we get together. Once we each join a different academy, we will be rivals in a true sense," said Trisha.

"I'll pass. Being a team player isn't my style. I prefer to work alone," I replied.

Trisha didn't say anything after that.

Sigurd raised his hand towards the massive slab of walls, and with a flick of his wrist, it shook and began to sink into the floor of the arena. Within moments, the wall had disappeared completely, leaving the crowd in awe.

Next, Sigurd turned his attention to the dead metal tree, and as he moved his arm towards it, the roots of the tree suddenly came alive and began to submerge into the ground. It was unclear whether the tree was actually alive or if Sigurd was simply able to control its roots.

Without missing a beat, Sigurd expertly summoned the fourth orb of light from his floating doll fortress. The orb swiftly ascended into the air, and in a spectacular display of magic, transformed into a large metallic disc that covered almost half of the arena stage. The disc then split apart from the sides, revealing two smaller, floating discs.

As we watched in awe, we noticed that water began pouring from the top disc, falling in a circular motion onto the lower disc. The water seemed to disappear as soon as it touched the lower disc, creating the illusion of a floating, cylindrical water fountain.

Sigurd turned to the grandmasters, his voice strong and respectful. "Grandmasters, the stage has been set. Please give us the order so that we can begin the ascension ceremony."

His request was met with a unanimous nod of approval from the nine grandmasters.

“Allow me,” Grandmaster Biswaq rose from his seat.

With a serene smile, he directed his attention toward the candidates,

Today is an exceptional day, as we gather together to witness your ascension ceremony," he began. "I would like to take a moment to acknowledge the incredible effort and perseverance you all have demonstrated to get here. You have worked hard, and you should be proud of yourselves."

He continued, his voice echoing through the grand hall, "It is vital to remember that you are among the lucky few who have received the blessing of Revia, the goddess of children. Now that you have been blessed, it is time for you to join the noble academy and master your mana. This ceremony will be the determining factor for us grandmasters to gauge your potential and invite you accordingly.”

As Biswaq finished speaking, the candidates began to smile widely. The second-tier candidates started to strut around with an air of arrogance. Finally, they could stand tall and proud, as worthy candidates deserving of their exemplary titles.

But my own feelings were mixed. Sure, being blessed by the goddess was an honor, but the way the grandmasters talked about it made me feel like they were just eager to get their hands on us candidates.

Biswaq's expression suddenly turned serious, and he spoke in a low and reverent voice. "Before we begin, let us offer our gratitude to the Heavenly Virtues - the divine heroes who protect our mortal realm from harm," he said. "They are the keepers of peace and harmony, endowed with the duty to maintain law and order. Bless these children with your divine blessing, O mighty lord of the Heavenly Virtues."

As Grandmaster Biswaq led the candidates in prayer to the Heavenly Virtues, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. It was strange to see the esteemed grandmasters, who were supposed to be the most knowledgeable and powerful individuals in the kingdom, bowing down to the 12 heroes like they were gods.

My mind wandered, questioning why the grandmasters were not idolizing the king and the royal family instead. After all, they were the rulers of the kingdom and held the ultimate power. Yet here they were, offering their gratitude to the Virtues, who were simply protectors of the mortal realm.

My thoughts drifted back to Lux, the first virtue who had always struck me as a condescending bully, more interested in fighting and showing off than actually doing good. I couldn't fathom why the grandmasters were praying to him as if he were a divine entity.

The Heavenly Virtues had a far-reaching influence that extended beyond just protecting the kingdom. I wonder just how much power the Virtues truly held in this kingdom.

As the grandmasters began their prayer to the Heavenly Virtues, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust rising within me. I tried to keep my composure and looked around, only to find that everyone else, including Sigurd and the phantom mages, had their arms crossed over their chest and were praying with sincere devotion. It seemed as though the grandmasters were treating the virtues with a level of reverence that one should have reserved for their king and their country.

Despite my reservations, I decided to bow my head and just play along.

Biswaq went on with his long-winded speech, praising the virtues and calling upon the archangels for guidance and protection. He asked the 12 sons of the archangel to watch over them and guide them in their pursuit of magical mastery, hoping that their wisdom, strength, and courage would inspire the candidates to elevate their magical abilities to new heights.

Finally, Biswaq stretched his arm forward with stern eyes and declared, "Let us begin the ascension ceremony at once."

I couldn't help but feel nauseous at the mention of archangels and their sons. It was all nonsense, but I knew I had to endure it. All I wanted was for them to start the damn ceremony already.

All of the candidates were gathered outside the arena, sitting on the ground in an organized fashion. Well sadly the exemplary candidates were not good enough to get any seats, I guess. We didn’t complain and all sat with our legs folded in a row.

Sigurd, the head mage, had returned to his weak, feeble form, and his floating fortress doll was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he sat on a chair next to the stage, looking drained with pale skin. It was clear that the prolonged use of the spirit possession technique had taken a toll on his body.

On the stage, a phantom mage announced the first candidate of the ascension ceremony, "Mathew Hal."

As soon as the name was called, several candidates turned their heads to look. It was the same arrogant boy who had asked for my comb earlier, the one with eight arms.

He stood up quickly, sweating profusely from nervousness. His friends offered him words of encouragement, "Best of luck, Mathew," "Do your best," and "You got this."

I couldn't resist the opportunity to tease the eight-arm brat, "Well, you better not pee yourself in front of the grandmasters. Otherwise, you might get executed for defiling the holy arena."

I was determined not to let him off the hook so easily.

Although Mathew gritted his teeth, he didn't let my taunts get to him. "I won't lose my composure to your ramblings," he replied, before turning and walking towards the stage.

As I looked around, I noticed that the other candidates were giving me hateful gazes, including Hendrickson and Trisha. I simply rolled my eyes at their reactions. Jason, who was sitting behind me, tugged on my shirt sleeve and said, "Hey, are you done picking fights with others? Now you've made Marcia even more nervous with that threat of yours. You should tell her that you were just joking."

I glanced back at Marcia, who was sitting behind Jason, already teary-eyed and about to burst into tears. I scratched my head and sighed, "Alright, I was joking. Don't cry, the grandmasters aren't going to kill us."

We finally turned our heads to the ascension trial to see how it goes.