Chapter 373: The Final Trial Will Now Begin

Outside the barrier, Leana narrowed her eyes.

“He’s leading them.”

“Not with words,” Damon muttered.

“No,” she said. “With rhythm. With spacing. He’s placing them where he wants them to be at the exact time he wants them to be there.”

“He’s not commanding them. He’s… composing them.”

In the stands, even students from rival schools had stopped jeering. They were leaning forward, watching in stunned silence as ElderGlow’s team flowed like a unit that had trained together for years. Well… Some of them had but that wasn’t disclosed to anyone.

Only one of them didn’t shout. Didn’t signal. Didn’t stumble.

Elias moved like he already knew where the next demon would fall.

(05:49)

Three demons down.

Two wounded.

One circling behind.

Elias lifted his hand without looking.

“Cael—backward guard.”

“Wh—”

The demon leapt.

Cael turned just in time.

His barrier flared.

Bang!!

The strike landed—deflected.

Elias turned, placed a single hand on the demon’s wrist—and essence flared like a brand from his palm.

The demon collapsed.

Four.

By the time the timer hit four minutes, the last four demons had clustered together, now defensive.

Cautious.

Terrified?

Reiz was breathing harder now. Sweat across his brow.

Renna’s healing zone faded and she summoned another, this one smaller, more focused.

Cael was on one knee, panting.

Only Elias stood untouched.

His uniform wasn’t even creased.

Reiz looked over.

“You see a path?”

Elias turned his head slightly.

“Uhm… I am the path.”

Reiz smirked—tired, but impressed. “Well alright then. Let’s clear it.”

The next minute was a blur.

Reiz engaged one, drawing it out with tempo breaks and feints.

Cael backed him with mid-range bursts, forcing the demon to keep moving.

Elias—never center—closed in from behind. Not with brute force.

But with a pulse.

His palm touched the back of the demon’s neck.

Kreeee!!

It spasmed.

Reiz landed the blow.

The final two demons lunged in desperation.

And that’s when Renna—quiet, underestimated—unleashed her own trap.

A magic circle Elias had left behind sparked to life beneath the last demon’s heels just as it pivoted to dodge Reiz’s blade.

Her essence surge detonated it.

Boooooom!

Cael finished the job with a low flame arc.

(01:34)

The last demon fell.

Silence.

Then the containment barrier dropped.

“Wooooah!”

The crowd exploded.

In the announcer’s box, the voice cracked from excitement.

“ElderGlow clears all eight targets at 08:26! Full team coordination! Zero knockouts! And all demons successfully slain!”

In the observation tower, Dean Godsthorn stood from his seat.

He didn’t speak.

Just watched.

As Elias turned from the kill zone—expression unreadable—and calmly walked back to the prep hallway without looking back.

“What did you choose, little Elias?” Dean Godsthorn asked, his voice barely audible for even his own ears.

ElderGlow had done the impossible twice in a single day.

First through the Maze—emerging with all four members intact.

Then through the demon challenge—clearing eight Grade Five demons in under nine minutes, with zero knockouts and near-perfect coordination.

Their team didn’t just succeed.

They dominated and everyone saw it.

Now, the participants were given a period of resting. One hour. Exactly sixty minutes to recover, drink, restore their essence pools, eat if they needed to—and prepare for what everyone knew was coming, even if no official word had been given yet.

“The final trial will be announced at the start of the final hour. No strategic preparation before then,” the announcer had declared.

“Until then, rest. Recover. And reflect.”

Healers moved among the teams like bees among flowers—activating aura salves, injecting magic essence-threaded restoratives, applying minor enchantments to burned limbs or fractured bones.

Potions were passed out freely.

Some drank cautiously.

Others chugged like the dead had risen and they wanted no part of it.

Even ElderGlow accepted them, though Renna made sure to scan each vial three times with a detection spell before giving the go-ahead.

They’d earned their hour.

Back in the private holding rooms, the energy was heavy with speculation.

Teams whispered among themselves.

No instructors were allowed past the outer hall. No healers. No spectators. Just the teams. And that made things worse.

Silence breeds theory.

And the most common one was on everyone’s lips.

“The last test’s gonna be one-on-one.”

“Tournament. Sixteen people.”

“Split bracket. Final showdown.”

None of it was confirmed. But no one doubted it either.

What else was there left to test?

First they’d faced their own minds.

Then they’d been pushed to act in cohesion against real threats.

Now?

Now the Academy would want to know what they were like alone.

Stripped of formation.

No callouts.

Just pressure.

Just instinct.

Reiz leaned against the cool wall of the ElderGlow prep chamber, wiping sweat from the back of his neck.

“They’re gonna make us fight,” he muttered.

Renna sat cross-legged, fingers dancing through an open spell tome. “What gave it away?”

“Sealed arenas. Sixteen participants remaining. One hour rest. It’s obvious.”

“Still not official.”

“Doesn’t need to be.”

Cael sighed, reclining on the bench with his hands behind his head. “At least if I get matched against you three, I won’t die. Probably.”

Renna chuckled. “I might take an arm.”

Elias didn’t laugh.

He was already walking toward the corridor.

“Where’re you going?” Reiz asked.

“Bathroom.”

Cael snorted. “Even gods have to piss.”

He didn’t return for ten minutes.

Not because of the line.

But because someone had been waiting for him.

The side hallway outside the prep ring was quiet—carved in gray stone, with narrow arches that let in strips of orange sun light. Beyond that, nothing but the open sky and the dull buzz of magical security.

Elias stepped under one of the arches and leaned slightly forward at the waist. Routine. Unbothered.

But before he could finish—

A shadow shifted behind him.

Then another.

He didn’t turn. Not at first.

“Bit early to be walking alone, Verdan.”

The voice came from the left.

A second joined. “We figured someone like you wouldn’t need guards.”

Elias zipped up calmly, shook out his sleeves, and finally turned.

Four figures stood in the archway’s far end.

Two wore the colors of Crowgarth.

Two from Wyrmere.

All of them were bruised from battle and it was obvious they were still recovering. But their eyes were sharp. Focused. Calculating.

They weren’t here for a fight.

They were here for a proposal.

“You’re the type to plan things and lead the flow,” the taller Crowgarth boy said. His hair was short, eyes hard. “A thinker. That much we’ve seen.”

“You’re not built for direct one-on-one. Not against raw power,” said the other Wyrmere student—a girl with burned knuckles and a slight limp.

They stepped closer.

“We believe the next test will be solo matches,” said the Crowgarth speaker. “Tournament format.”

Elias didn’t reply.

“So we’re proposing an understanding.”

Still no reply.

“You’ve got eyes on you now,” the Wyrmere girl said. “No one’s gonna go easy on you.”

“But if we all want to survive the next round,” the taller boy continued, “it’s smarter to work together.”

Elias finally raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it was one-on-one.”

“It is. But you know how these things work. Round-robin. Elimination. Match-ups are random—or so they say. But some things can be influenced.”

The Wyrmere girl nodded. “We’ve got people on the inside who know how to grease the wheel. Nothing big. Just a little push here and there.”

“We can make sure you don’t face any of us until the final four.”

“And in return,” said the taller boy, “you stay out of our way.”

“No traps. No surprises. Just a clean split.”

Elias didn’t move.

“Agree,” the boy said, “and you’ve got allies. Silent ones.”

The silence stretched for five full seconds.

Then Elias spoke.

“…You think I’m not a duelist.”

“You’ve shown your strength through planning. Through positioning. Through control.”

Elias tilted his head. “That’s your mistake.”

He stepped forward once—only once.

It wasn’t aggressive.

But all four flinched.

Because the air shifted.

Just slightly.

As if the hallway had blinked.

Elias looked at the girl from Wyrmere.

“Tell me,” he said softly, “what shape was your magic circle zone when you broke the demon’s right leg?”

She blinked. “What?”

“When you lost control of the right-hand demon. What did your sealing spell look like?”

“I—I don’t—”

“You copied a pattern you didn’t understand. A spiral cast too shallow. You’ll never trap a creature with curved limbs like that.”

He turned to the Crowgarth boy.

“And you. Your double-step dodge in the fifth minute was inefficient. Two steps too wide. That’s why the demon broke your left arm.”

The boy stared.

“You watched me fight. But you didn’t see.”

Elias stepped past them.

“You should be more careful where you make offers.”

Then he was gone.

Back in the prep chamber, Reiz looked up as Elias returned.

Cael sat up. “Took your time.”

Elias said nothing.

But Reiz caught the slight crease between his brows.

“Someone bothering you?”

“No.”

Reiz nodded slowly. “Good.”

The room went quiet again.

Tense. But calm.

Until—

A bell rang.

A single chime—low, deep, and laced with mana.

The announcer’s voice filled the air once more.

“Participants—please gather at the central floor.”

“The final trial… will now begin.”

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