Chapter 372: The Second Trial Begins

“The first phase is now complete!”

The announcer, Dean Oryll’s voice boomed across the Colosseum like thunder, met with a rising wave of cheers, disbelief, and frantically updating betting ledgers.

ElderGlow had done what some would refer to as the impossible.

Four students had entered the Maze of Wills.

Four had returned.

No fractures. No losses. No magic circle collapses.

Other teams had limped back half-broken. Thornevale emerged with three. Wyrmere returned with two, one of whom needed to be carried.

Crowgarth’s exit had ended in a collapse — their final member emerging unconscious and vomiting black-tinted essence, an immediate disqualification due to overdraw.

But ElderGlow?

Stable. Balanced. Intact.

As the crowd swelled with excitement, the floating glyph displays began updating.

(Trial One Results – Maze of Wills)

ElderGlow: 4/4

Thornevale: 3/4

Crowgarth: 1/4

Wyrmere: 2/4

The numbers were impossible to ignore.

And neither was the name that began surfacing in murmurs among the seated academy sections.

“Who’s the fourth one?”

“The quiet kid. The one with the black eyes.”

“Did you see him walk out? It was like the Maze bent around him.”

“Elias Verdan. That’s his name. I think.”

Up in the faculty balcony, the discussion shifted from celebration to strategy.

Dean Godsthorn said nothing. He merely watched his students being led back to the preparation wing, arms folded, expression unreadable.

But others weren’t so calm.

Thornevale’s head instructor leaned toward Leana.

“That boy. Elias. What’s his background?”

Leana didn’t flinch. “ElderGlow.”

“Don’t get clever.”

“I’m not,” she replied. “That’s all you need to know.”

The instructor’s lips tightened.

But he said nothing more.

Damon, seated now with the rest of the upper alumni observers, leaned forward, fingers steepled under his chin.

“Alright, mystery boy,” he murmured. “Let’s see how you handle demons.”

Because Phase One might’ve tested the mind.

But Phase Two?

This was all about combat synergy.

In the center of the arena, Dean Oryll who had taken the role of the announcer reappeared, standing atop a levitating platform now suspended over a transformed battleground.

Gone were the mirrored illusions and spiral entrances.

In their place, eight circular dueling zones had risen from the stone—each enclosed by invisible containment barriers etched with glowing ward symbols.

Above them, timers floated.

“The Second Trial,” the announcer called, “will test what the first could not—team communication, coordination, and execution under pressure.”

“Each team will face eight Grade Five demons. The demons are real. The risk is real. However, lethal barriers have been placed—Death blows will not land, but pain, exhaustion, and mana drain remain in full effect.”

The crowd leaned forward.

“Each team has a ten-minute window to eliminate or disable all eight enemies. If you fail, you are ranked by damage inflicted, time elapsed, and team cohesion during the match.”

“You may not speak to outside instructors. No assistance will be given. The trial begins… fifteen minutes from now. Everyone should get enough rest!”

Fifteen minutes later after the recovery period was over, the first team to step forward was Wyrmere.

Now with all members, although still slightly shaken and unstable, their duel zone lit up as eight glowing portals appeared—ripping open to reveal their opponents.

Grade Five demons—large, humanoid-shaped horrors with obsidian-scaled arms, triple-jointed limbs, and jagged essence halos.

Each snarled with low, grinding growls. Intelligent. Measured. But ready to tear.

Wyrmere’s team barely lasted six minutes.

Their timer buzzed. Their zone dimmed.

And all four combatants were forced to kneel as the medics rushed in.

Thornevale entered next.

Their formation was solid. Shields, lances, and coordinated essence barriers.

They worked as one — rotating positions, redirecting pressure, launching well-timed combos.

Their cohesion saved them. But even they needed nine full minutes to bring down the eighth demon.

Their exhaustion was clear.

Then came Crowgarth.

Only one contestant remained completely stable and sane but all four of them had to participate.

So the rules were adjusted.

Seven demons.

Their saving grace, a boy—hulking, blood-soaked, and grinning like a beast—cracked his neck and walked into the ring shirtless.

He took down two.

The third took him down.

The others didn’t last seconds after he was knocked out.

By then, the audience had settled. Results were trickling in. Numbers floating.

And all eyes turned to the final team on the list.

The only full team left.

ElderGlow.

Inside the preparation chamber, Reiz adjusted his grip on his twin wrist-blades, casting a glance to Renna and Cael. They looked battered, but focused.

Then he looked to Elias.

Elias was calm.

Perfectly calm.

“You’ve seen Grade Five demons before?” Reiz asked.

Elias nodded.

Cael blinked. “What, like… in person?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

Elias didn’t answer.

Renna sighed. “Forget it. Let’s not break our heads right before combat.”

Reiz gave one nod.

“Same formation as before. I lead, Renna supports, Cael pushes flanks, and Elias…” He hesitated. “Do what you see fit.”

Elias blinked once. “Understood.”

They stepped into the ring.

The arena floor pulsed.

The barriers activated—transparent walls snapping into place like invisible glass.

The demons began to emerge—eight of them, clawed, armored, already watching their prey.

The timer blinked to life.

(10:00)

Reiz exhaled once.

“Let’s move.”

Above, the crowd leaned forward again.

The final test of the day’s second trial had begun.

And everyone wanted to know the same thing: Could a team led by a mystery survive the real thing?

Timer: 10:00

Opponents: 8 Grade Five demons

Team: ElderGlow

The arena closed around them with a soft but absolute hum. The containment barrier shimmered like heat waves against the sky—visible only when something passed too close.

Inside, the eight demons moved like wolves stalking a den.

They didn’t charge.

They didn’t roar.

They watched.

Obsidian arms flexed. Tailored spines rose and fell with calm, controlled breath. Intelligence gleamed behind their angular eyes. These weren’t beasts—they were fighters. Trained. Patterned.

They weren’t going to lunge blindly like most demonic spawn.

They were going to test the team first.

ElderGlow moved into formation.

Reiz in front, blades crackling with static essence. Cael flanked left, his essence flow laced with fire pulses. Renna, at the back, eyes half-closed as she summoned and layered healing zones in advance.

And Elias?

He simply walked, unhurried, behind them all.

In the viewing tower, Damon’s voice cut through the murmuring upper deck. “They’re reading the demons.”

Leana nodded. “And the demons are reading them.”

Damon’s eyes flicked to Elias, who stood just a little too far off-center.

“Why is he so close to the back?”

Leana didn’t answer.

The demons made the first move.

Two stepped forward, limbs shifting, lowering their weight.

09:43

A third followed.

Then one feinted left.

Reiz reacted immediately—ducked low, blades up, deflecting a strike aimed for his ribs.

The second demon spun around behind it. Cael was there—blast of fire from his palm. The creature snarled and rolled away, smoking.

The third went for Renna.

Elias stepped once.

Only once.

And that was all it took.

His foot landed softly between her and the oncoming claw—and the moment he touched the ground, a shockwave of essence pulsed outward, centered on the stone tile his boot compressed.

Not explosive.

Not loud.

But perfect.

The demon’s claw twisted—off-balance. Its leg seized mid-lunge.

Renna blinked.

The claw stopped inches from her cheek.

Elias didn’t flinch.

“Was that… a trap spell?” one of the Crowgarth deans murmured.

“No visible incantation,” Leana said.

“No circle either,” said another.

Godsthorn didn’t speak. His eyes were on Elias’s shadow.

It had moved before Elias did.

(08:51)

Four demons remained back, circling, observing.

Three pressed forward again. Rotating.

Then it happened.

Elias spoke.

Just one word.

“Reiz. Two.”

Reiz didn’t ask.

He pivoted instantly—just in time to parry the second demon that had slinked around to his blind side.

Cael’s head snapped toward Elias, realization hitting late.

“Wait—he knew?”

Elias didn’t reply. His eyes were already on the third wave.

The fourth demon tilted its head, sensing something.

It broke formation.

And charged straight toward Elias.

(07:40)

In the crowd, murmurs sharpened.

“Why’s he not dodging?”

“He’s not raising his hands.”

“Does he want to get hit?”

The demon lunged and immediately reeled back.

A seal had activated.

A magic circle flared beneath its feet. It hadn’t been there seconds ago.

Not glowing. Not pulsing.

But Elias had stepped over that exact spot earlier. Not cast anything. Not moved his hands.

Just… walked.

And now the demon was locked in place, bound at the knees, shrieking as the compressed runes seared upward into its calves.

Reiz seized the moment. Two rapid dashes.

Twin blades through the neck.

One demon down.

The crowd erupted.

Even the announcer’s voice faltered for a beat before catching up.

“First kill! ElderGlow drops one demon at 7:32!”

Inside the barrier, the demons changed their approach.

Their formation broke.

The remaining seven split—three went wide left, two high right, and two charged straight through center.

Reiz cursed. “They’re adapting.”

“No,” Elias said. “They’re exposing themselves.”

He turned his head—barely.

“Renna. Focus circle, lower left. Trigger in six seconds.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Just do it.”

She obeyed—palm to the ground, eyes wide, essence flaring.

The magic circle bloomed at her lower left, timed just as a demon leapt through that zone.

Right into the rising light.

Boooooom!!

A blast of compressed gravity snapped downward—slamming it into the ground like a toy.

Cael followed up with a fire slash straight to its face.

Down to six.

(07:05)

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