The day of the Kingdom Founding Festival finally arrived.
From the moment dawn broke over the Royal Capital, the entire city felt different—alive in a way that went beyond ordinary celebration. Banners bearing the crest of Vornis fluttered from towers and academy walls alike. Streets were packed with visitors from distant regions, merchants calling out their wares, children running between adults with laughter trailing behind them like sparks.
At the Royal Academy, excitement buzzed like static in the air.
Students who normally walked the halls half-asleep now moved with purpose, dressed more neatly than usual, voices louder, eyes brighter. Parents and guardians poured through the academy gates, escorted by staff toward the massive colosseum-like stadium at the academy's heart.
This was not just a school event.
This was a national stage.
Aster stood near the entrance tunnel with Astra and Lea, watching the crowd fill the stands.
"They're really packed," Astra murmured, eyes widening as she took in the sheer number of people. "I didn't expect this many."
Lea crossed her arms, scanning the audience like a guard. "Parents, nobles, academy sponsors, foreign observers… yeah. This is basically half the important people in the country."
Aster nodded quietly.
He felt it too.
This was the kind of atmosphere where reputations were made—or broken.
But for now, this part of the festival wasn't about them.
Not yet.
Today began with the Exhibition Combat Matches.
A tradition older than the academy itself.
◆ ◆ ◆
The stadium was enormous.
Circular stone stands rose high into the air, layered row upon row, each seat filled or quickly being claimed. Magic lanterns floated above the arena floor, adjusting their height automatically to provide perfect visibility. Protective barrier runes glowed faintly along the edges of the combat grounds, humming with contained power.
Parents leaned forward eagerly.
Students whispered excitedly.
Some nobles sat with polite interest.
Others with sharp, evaluative eyes.
At the center of the arena, the principal stepped forward.
Archmage Thalorien of the Tides.
Even before he spoke, the noise gradually died down.
The man radiated authority—not the loud kind, but the kind born of mastery. His long robe shifted gently in the wind, the sigil of water magic faintly shimmering along its hem.
"Welcome," Thalorien's voice echoed across the stadium, amplified by magic. "Students, parents, and honored guests of the Kingdom of Vornis."
Polite applause followed.
"Today, we celebrate the founding of our nation," he continued. "But more importantly, we celebrate the future."
That earned more attention.
"Our kingdom was not built by strength alone," Thalorien said. "It was built by wisdom, cooperation, and the nurturing of the next generation."
A few students exchanged looks.
The speech continued.
And continued.
And continued.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
Some students shifted uncomfortably.
A few younger ones yawned openly.
One particularly unlucky second-year actually dozed off—only to be elbowed awake by his neighbor.
Aster listened patiently, though even he felt the speech was stretching a bit long.
Lea leaned toward Astra and whispered, "If he adds another metaphor about flowing rivers, I'm going to scream."
Astra bit back a laugh.
Finally, at long last, Thalorien raised his staff.
"Enough words," he said, a faint smile touching his lips. "Let us see action."
The stadium erupted into cheers.
◆ ◆ ◆
The exhibition matches began.
Unlike formal duels, these matches were demonstrations—carefully structured to show ability, control, and growth rather than victory alone. Protective barriers ensured safety, and instructors stood ready to intervene if necessary.
The first few matches were impressive but expected.
Fire mages shaping precise flames.
Water mages weaving elegant constructs.
Lightning users flashing speed and control.
The crowd applauded politely.
Then—
"Next," the announcer's voice rang out, "Second-year representative: Gray."
A young man stepped onto the arena floor.
He wore a simple academy uniform, no extravagant accessories, no family crest embroidered on his coat. His short dark hair was slightly unkempt, and his expression was calm—almost indifferent.
"Gray?" someone in the audience murmured. "Isn't he a commoner?"
"Yes," another replied. "No noble backing at all."
Whispers rippled through the stands.
Gray raised his hand slowly.
The ground responded.
At first, it was subtle—a faint tremor beneath his feet. Then the arena floor began to rise, stone flowing like water under his control. Massive earthen pillars surged upward, forming walls, platforms, and shields in fluid succession.
The crowd gasped.
Gray didn't stop.
He stepped forward, and the earth followed him, reshaping itself instantly—compressing, reinforcing, moving with precision that bordered on frightening.
"His control…" a noble muttered. "That's second-year?"
Gray slammed his palm down.
A shockwave rippled outward, stopping just short of the barrier as jagged stone spikes erupted in a perfect arc.
Then—silence.
The constructs dissolved smoothly back into the arena floor, leaving no damage behind.
For a heartbeat, the stadium was quiet.
Then it exploded.
Cheers.
Applause.
Shouts of disbelief.
Aster watched intently.
"…Wow, Incredible," he murmured. "Hee's in the realm of mastery."
Astra nodded. "And discipline."
Lea whistled. "Commoner or not, he's terrifying."
Even nobles who had initially scoffed now leaned forward, expressions serious.
Gray bowed once—brief, respectful—and left the arena.
He had said everything he needed to say without a single word.
◆ ◆ ◆
The matches continued, but the standard had been raised.
Several students performed admirably, yet the audience compared each of them silently to Gray.
Then came the third-year demonstrations.
The announcer's voice carried clearly.
"Third-year representative: Eleanor Elfantte."
A young woman stepped forward, long silver-blonde hair tied back neatly, eyes sharp and focused. Her uniform bore the insignia of a well-known noble house—but unlike many nobles, she carried herself with confidence earned, not inherited.
The wind stirred the moment she entered the arena.
Not violently.
Elegantly.
Eleanor lifted her hand, fingers spread.
The air answered.
Currents twisted and spiraled around her, visible as shimmering distortions. She moved, and the wind moved with her—forming blades, barriers, and flowing arcs that cut through the arena with breathtaking precision.
She leapt—and the wind caught her, lifting her effortlessly into the air.
Gasps echoed across the stands.
Eleanor descended slowly, landing without a sound.
Then she smiled.
The wind burst outward in a controlled wave, stopping cleanly at the barrier.
Applause thundered.
"That's third-year level?" someone exclaimed.
"No," another replied. "That's beyond it."
Aster felt Astra tense beside him.
"She's strong," Astra said quietly.
"Yes," Aster agreed. "And controlled."
Lea smirked. "At least they're not slacking."
Eleanor bowed gracefully, acknowledging the crowd before leaving the arena.
◆ ◆ ◆
By the time the exhibition matches concluded, the stadium was buzzing.
Conversations overlapped.
Opinions clashed.
Pride flared—for children, for schools, for the future.
The principal returned briefly to commend the students, but this time he kept it mercifully short.
As the crowd began to settle again, anticipation shifted.
Because everyone knew—
This was not the only highlight of the day.
Aster exhaled slowly.
His turn was coming.
He glanced toward Astra and Lea.
"Ready?" he asked quietly.
Astra smiled, nervous but determined. "Always."
Lea cracked her knuckles. "Guys, give them something they won't forget."
Around them, the Kingdom Founding Festival roared on.
But soon—
The sound would change.
And the entire nation would listen.
**************************
The stadium itself was shaped like an ancient colosseum.
A perfect circle of stone rose from the ground, tier upon tier of seats climbing skyward until they seemed to brush the clouds. From every direction—north, south, east, west—the audience surrounded the arena completely. Nobles in decorated boxes. Parents leaning forward. Students packed shoulder to shoulder. Even distant foreign guests filled the uppermost tiers.
There were no stands at the center.
No raised stage.
Only open stone.
And standing there at the center —small against the vastness—were Aster and Astra Snowflake.
The moment they stepped into the arena, the noise shifted.
Not louder.
Sharper.
Every whisper carried anticipation. Every breath seemed to pause. Many kids and parents in audience started cheering loudly, and it started a chain reaction and the whole stadium was cheering now...
Aster walked calmly to the center, his silver eyes sweeping across the endless sea of faces. He could feel them all—tens of thousands of people watching, judging, waiting. In his previous life, this kind of crowd would have crushed him.
Here—
It felt like home.
Astra stood beside him, her posture straight, hands clasped lightly in front of her. She glanced at him once, just once, and he nodded.
Now.
At Aster's signal, attendants stationed around the stadium moved.
Massive sound transmission stones—his own design—activated one by one.
They were placed evenly around the arena walls, embedded into the stone at precise intervals. Each one was engraved with layered runes, glowing faintly as mana flowed through them. Unlike ordinary amplification stones that projected sound in a single direction, these formed a complete resonance network, overlapping and reinforcing one another.
The effect was immediate.
A low hum rolled through the stadium—not unpleasant, not loud—just present.
Like the air itself had learned how to listen.
Several mages in the audience stiffened in surprise.
"That formation…""That's not standard amplification.""They're synchronized…"
Aster raised one hand.
The hum faded.
Silence followed.
A deep, complete silence—so total that even the flutter of banners seemed distant.
Aster's voice carried then, unforced and clear.
"Thank you for waiting."
It reached everyone.
Not as an echo.
Not as a shout.
But as if he were standing right in front of them—no matter where they sat.
A ripple of astonishment moved through the crowd.
Aster continued calmly, "Today is the Kingdom Founding Festival. A day to honor the past… and to look toward the future."
Astra stepped forward beside him.
"We won't keep you long," she said with a gentle smile. "We'll let the music speak."
Aster lowered his hand.
The stones responded.
Mana flowed.
The air vibrated—softly at first, like a breath being drawn.
People leaned forward instinctively.
Some held their breath.
Some didn't even realize they had.
This wasn't just a performance.
It was a declaration.
Aster closed his eyes.
Astra inhaled.
And in that vast, circular arena—surrounded by history, power, and expectation—
The first note was about to be born.
Every eye was fixed on them.
Every ear was ready.
The nation waited.