The floor of the Grand Arena groaned as the stone slabs shifted. Huge, enchanted golems—massive constructs of iron and clay—emerged from the ground.
"The trial is simple," the Captain of the Silver Eagles announced from above. "Survive the onslaught. The golems will ignore those who are incapacitated. Show us your utility, your defense, and your resolve."
The Chaos Begins
Immediately, the arena became a battlefield. The noble candidates launched dazzling spells—fireballs that lit up the sky and shards of ice that whistled through the air. They were flashy, but they were reckless.
Leo stayed on the perimeter, his movements fluid. He didn't waste mana. When a golem swung a massive stone fist at him, he didn't blast it. Instead, he summoned thin, steel-tough Iron-Vines that snagged the golem's ankle, using its own momentum to trip it into a wall.
Nearby, a group of younger, commoner candidates were being cornered. Unlike the nobles, they lacked high-output offensive spells. A particularly massive "Titan Golem" raised its fist to crush a trembling boy who had fallen.
"Watch out!" Elara's voice rang out. She unleashed a Torrential Shield, a swirling sphere of water that slowed the golem's fist, but the sheer physical weight of the construct began to crack her defense.
"It's too heavy!" she gasped, her face pale.
The Breaking Point
Leo saw the noble candidates nearby—the same ones from the street. They were laughing, watching the commoners struggle.
"Let the weeds get crushed," Kael mocked, lounging behind his own protective barrier. "It'll save the kingdom the cost of their uniforms."
Something in Leo snapped. It wasn't just the mockery; it was the injustice of the Captains watching and doing nothing. He felt a surge of heat—not the warm, life-giving heat of the sun, but a greasy, suffocating burn that started in the pit of his stomach.
His grandfather's voice echoed in his mind: "Never lose control... especially when you're angry."
Too late.
The Explosion
Leo sprinted toward the Titan Golem. He didn't use his grimoire. He didn't chant a spell. He just let out a guttural scream of pure rage.
"GET AWAY FROM THEM!"
In an instant, the air in the arena turned bone-dry. The green vines Leo usually summoned didn't appear. Instead, a shockwave of Black-Red Flame erupted from his body.
It wasn't a normal fire. It didn't flicker; it roared like a living beast. The flame hit the Titan Golem, and instead of melting it, the golem simply vaporized into fine gray ash. The shockwave sent Kael and the other mocking nobles flying backward, their barriers shattering like glass.
The entire arena went silent. The temperature in the stadium jumped twenty degrees.
The Aftermath
For three seconds, the black-red flame flickered around Leo's arms like serpents. His eyes, usually brown, had turned a terrifying, glowing crimson.
Then, as quickly as it appeared, the flame vanished.
Leo's legs gave out. He collapsed into the sand, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Smoke rose from his skin, but his clothes weren't burned—it was as if the fire had come from inside his soul.
On the high balcony, the Captains stood up in unison, their hands moving to their sword hilt or grimoires. The Magic King, Alaric, gripped the railing so hard the stone cracked.
"That fire..." the Captain of the Crimson Lions whispered, his voice trembling for the first time in his life. "That's not magic. That's Him."
Leo's vision blurred. The last thing he saw was Elara running toward him, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and concern, before the world went pitch black.