The voice hit like a hammer.
"The examination has concluded."
It echoed inside their skulls, more magic than sound. The moment it ended, the world twisted.
Vael felt his body being yanked, space folding in on itself—and then he was back. The forest was gone. No smoke. No blood. No ash.
Just marble floors, black stone pillar, and cold silence.
The Assembly Hall.
Hundreds of them stood dazed, many still injured, clothes torn, faces pale. A few were weeping. Others just stared at the floor.
Then the instructor appeared atop the platform—tall, robed, emotionless. His voice surged again, unnatural and iron-edged.
"Out of 830 candidates, 76 are dead."
The hall froze.
"A list of the deceased will be posted at the notice board near the exam hall."
No apology. No moment of silence. Just the facts.
Conversations began to flicker across the crowd.
"Seventy-six...?"
"Gods, she didn't make it..."
"Why the hell didn't they stop it?"
"I saw three people get crushed in front of me. Crushed."
Ryne appeared at Vael's side, quiet, arms folded.
"You okay?" she asked, eyeing the burn marks on his knuckles.
"I'm breathing," Vael muttered.
"You really fought it. The Goblin Lord. Alone."
He didn't answer.
Joss limped over, blood drying on his cheek. Kainen followed, clutching his arm.
"I saw that last hit," Kainen said. "That wasn't normal. That was—"
"Don't," Vael cut in.
The others stopped.
He looked at them one by one.
"Don't ask. Don't speak of it. Just leave it buried."
Ryne didn't nod. But she didn't push either.
Joss swallowed. "You saved us."
"I didn't do it for that."
The silence stretched.
Vael turned slightly, gaze fixed ahead.
Behind him, the hall buzzed with grief and guilt and whispered names of the dead.
And somewhere near the exam hall, a new list was being nailed to the board. A list that would never stop growing.
The instructor's voice cut through the noise.
"As stated at the beginning of the trial—only the top fifty will be admitted to the Inner Order's Academy."
The crowd snapped back to attention.
"I will now announce the top ten candidates. Ranked by performance, survival skill, combat impact, and mission initiative."
Murmurs rippled through the hall like pressure under glass.
"Tenth place — Eira Venn."
A girl near the left flinched. Short silver hair. One eye patched. She said nothing as heads turned.
"Ninth — Calder Rhyn."
Someone in the back scoffed. Calder raised a hand in mock salute. His knuckles were raw, one tooth missing.
"Eighth — Tessa Velin."
A tall girl with a cold stare. Blood still caked down her neck. Didn't even blink.
"Seventh — Bram Holt."
A mountain of a boy. Thick arms. Broken nose. He gave a low grunt and crossed his arms.
"Sixth — Ilren Dask."
No one knew who that was. When a small, quiet boy near the far wall looked up, a few blinked in surprise.
"Fifth — Lyra Shein."
"About time," she muttered, stepping forward slightly. Daggers on her hips, and a sharp smile like glass.
"Fourth — Joss Kael."
Joss blinked. "What—me? No way."
"Third — Ryne Aeril."
Ryne's eyebrows lifted, just a little. Her mouth didn't move, but her hand brushed the fletching of one of her arrows, still slung on her back.
"Second — Kainen Vell."
Kainen stiffened. "Me?"
Joss slapped his shoulder. "You earned it."
Then the pause came. A silence like a held breath.
"First — Vash Talek."
A figure near the front tilted his head.
Tall. Clean. Unbloodied. Barely scratched.
Vael watched him.
Vash turned, met his eyes for the briefest second, and smiled.
There was no warmth in it.
The instructor continued—but Vael heard none of it.
He hadn't been named. Not in the top ten.
He stood silent as the crowd shifted and whispers crept through the ranks.
And somewhere deep inside, the voice stirred.
"You hid. As he commanded. Now see how they measure shadows with a blindfold."
The instructor raised his hand.
A ripple of light surged from his palm, forming a massive translucent panel in the air above the hall. Names began to appear—line by line, glowing in cold white glyphs.
"These are the fifty who passed. Your names are listed in order. Welcome to the Inner Order's Academy."
Silence gripped the room. All eyes turned upward.
Ryne spotted her name in the top ten and gave the faintest nod. Joss exhaled hard when he found his. Kainen squinted, then gave a crooked grin.
Then—
"Vael…" Ryne muttered.
All three of them followed the list down—lower and lower—until the very last line.
There it was. Faint. Almost reluctant.
"Fiftieth —Vael Eldorin."
Kainen blinked. "No way. He—"
Joss stared at it. "He saved all of us. Carried that whole fight."
Ryne frowned. "Something's off."
They looked at Vael.
He said nothing. Didn't flinch. Just stood there, eyes half-lidded, like the list meant less than dust.
The questions died in their throats.
They didn't need him to say it. They just knew.
Whatever reason he had… he wasn't going to explain it. And he didn't want them to try.
The instructor's voice cut through again.
"All names not on the list—you are dismissed. Leave the Assembly Hall immediately."
The rejected began to move. Some in shock. Some in fury. Some in silence.
Vael stayed still.
So did the storm behind his eyes.
The room hadn't settled when the instructor raised his voice again.
"One more matter."
Everyone froze.
"The Goblin Lord incident. Some of you witnessed it. Most of you heard the screams."
The air tightened.
"It was brought down. Not by the one who topped the exam."
"It was defeated by four individuals—"
"Kainen Vell, Joss Kael, Ryne Aeril… and Vael Eldorin."
Silence slammed the hall like a hammer.
Someone near the center spoke first. "Wait. What?"
Another: "The Goblin Lord? That thing—wasn't it a Class-Lord threat?"
"How the hell could even four of them bring it down?"
"That's not possible. That thing crushed the vanguard group like they were made of paper."
More voices. More disbelief.
Until one girl narrowed her eyes at Kainen. "Wait… Vell? Kainen Vell? As in House Vell?"
Gasps followed.
"Vell? The sword family?"
"Yeah. They're the direct line. Vell blades are trained from birth. Half the Order's frontline swordsmen come from them."
"He's not just a Vell. He's the Vell heir, right? The prodigy?"
Kainen looked like he wanted to disappear.
Another student scoffed. "Of course. That explains one."
Then eyes turned to Ryne.
"Hold on… Aeril. That's another old name."
"Aeril—yeah, they're the ranged division family. Archers. Scouts. Sharpshooters. Deep Order influence."
"They supply more elite marksmen than any other bloodline. Ryne must've been trained with them since she could stand."
Ryne said nothing. Just stared forward.
Then eyes found Joss.
No one said anything at first.
Then a voice in the back spoke up. "...Wait, isn't that the kid? The beast-slayer who downed a direhorn at fourteen in the southern wilds?"
Someone else snapped their fingers. "That's him. Joss Kael. No family name, but yeah—he's been in bounty records since he was thirteen."
"They said he cleared beasts that grown mercenaries couldn't touch."
"And now he's here."
Whispers grew. Respect. Fear. Speculation.
But Vael stood untouched by it.
No legacy. No name. No records. Just the 50th spot on the list.
Still, his name had been called.
All eyes slowly shifted from the names near the top back to Vael.
They found nothing there. No legacy, no noble bloodline, no whispered legends. Just a name — faint, last on the list.
Whispers curled through the crowd, sharp and cutting.
"Dead weight."
"A shadow dragged in with the others."
"How did he even survive?"
Vael's expression didn't change. He stood still, unmoved by their scorn, as if their doubts were ghosts that couldn't touch him.
Then the gaze of the Assembly snapped upward, locking on the first name—Vash Talek.
Murmurs of confusion and suspicion spread like wildfire.
"Wait... Vash Talek?"
"That pristine armor, not a scratch. No blood. No sign of real battle."
"How does someone top the exam without even landing a killing blow on the Goblin Lord?"
"If he didn't kill it... then what did he do?"
"Did they just hand the top spot to a ghost?"
A heavy silence hung over the hall, thick with unease and unspoken questions. The shadow of doubt clawed at the edges of the Order's perfect image.
The instructor raised his voice once more, the iron edge sharper than before.
"There were two bosses in this trial."
A hush fell over the Assembly, every gaze now locked on him.
"First, the Goblin Lord—brutal, savage, a force of pure destruction."
His voice dropped, slow and deliberate.
"But there was another. A hidden adversary, concealed."
Murmurs stirred, curiosity tinged with fear.
"The Veil Wyrm."
A name that twisted like smoke in the air.
"An ancient serpent-spirit, neither as colossal nor as feral as the Goblin Lord—but far from weak. It thrives in shadows, its venom corrupting both mind and flesh."
He paced slowly, eyes scanning the crowd.
"The Veil Wyrm tested cunning, patience, and resolve more than raw strength."
"And it was this foe—defeated solely by the candidate who claimed first place: Vash Talek."
A pause. The weight of the revelation sank deep.
"Though the Goblin Lord's ruin was wrought by four, the Veil Wyrm's fall was a solitary conquest."
A murmur passed through the hall—quiet, uncertain.
The instructor's voice cut through the lingering tension like a blade.
"That concludes the announcements."
He nodded once, sharply.
"Return to your quarters. Your classes will be assigned tomorrow."
A cold finality in his tone left no room for argument.
"Rest now. You will need your strength for what lies ahead."
The Assembly Hall began to empty, footsteps echoing against the marble floor like distant thunder—each candidate swallowed by their own thoughts and shadows.
Vael remained still a moment longer, the storm behind his eyes unyielding, before turning away into the silent corridors of the Inner Order's Academy.
Just as the last footsteps faded and the hall began to empty, a voice—soft, yet impossibly clear—echoed inside Vael's mind.
"Wait."
It wasn't the voice guiding him before. This was different—calm, deliberate, cloaked in ancient power.
His gaze shifted. No one spoke. No lips moved.
"Do not leave the Assembly Hall."
And Vael obeyed.