Chapter 60: Hall of Reveals

The lunch crowd had thinned, the rich aroma of roasted monster meat and baked mana bread lingering faintly in the air.

Ron pushed his tray away and rose from his seat. “Let’s go,” he said casually, glancing at Lia.

She stood as well, brushing a few crumbs from her sleeve, and together they made their way toward the exam hall for the duel stage.

Halfway across the courtyard, a familiar voice rang out.

“Hey! How’s it going, guys?”

Aurelian strode toward them, golden hair catching the afternoon light.

Ron grinned. “Where were you, man? Didn’t see you in the medical hall.”

Aurelian chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Ah… got caught up in some things. Didn’t wanna disturb your lunch date.”

Both Ron and Lia froze, faces flushing a shade deeper.

“It was not a date!” they said in unison, almost too quickly.

“Uh-huh.” Aurelian gave a mock-serious nod, lips curling into a knowing smile. “Sure. Don’t make such guilty expressions.”

Ron groaned while Lia crossed her arms, both trying to mask their embarrassment.

“Speaking of expressions,” Aurelian went on, “Torren wasn’t too happy after you two interrupted our duel back there.”

The two exchanged sheepish chuckles. “Yeah… sorry about that,” Ron admitted.

“What about Lirael?” Lia asked suddenly. “Where is she?”

“How should I know?” Aurelian said with genuine confusion. “I don’t even know her. She was in your team during the exam, right?”

Lia shrugged. “Hmm. Just asking. Anyway, let’s go.”

“Right.” Aurelian fell into step beside them, and the three continued toward the looming exam hall, the air thick with anticipation for the next trial.

—

Ron, Lia, and Aurelian arrived at the exam hall, still chatting idly as they joined the crowd of gathered candidates. The air buzzed with anticipation—hundreds of eyes fixed on the empty stage at the front.

A ripple of silence swept through the hall as Vice Chairman Lucen Merrith appeared, his presence commanding immediate attention.

“Hello, candidates. I hope you enjoyed the lunch,” Lucen began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room. “Now, the next—and final—stage of this entrance exam will begin. The good news? This stage is far easier than the last.”

A wave of murmurs ran through the crowd.

“In this round,” Lucen continued, “you will participate in a small tournament. Each of you will draw a number. Whoever draws the same number as you will be your opponent. This stage will test your pure battle prowess—something some of you may not have been able to fully display during the survival exam.”

He paused, letting the words sink in before smiling faintly.

“There is also a special bonus for the top ten ranked candidates from the last stage. If one of you happens to lose, you will still be allowed to pass to the next round of the duel—once. No more than that.”

The hall erupted in whispers. Some students were relieved, others suddenly nervous. Ron and Lia exchanged quiet glances, their ears tuned to every word.

“To judge your performance,” Lucen said, “we have three esteemed professors.”

“First—Professor Varris Denholm.”

From behind the stage, a towering figure emerged. A hulking barbarian with scars tracing his arms, Varris’s mere presence sent an involuntary shiver through many candidates. His expression remained calm, unreadable.

“Next—Professor Mira Sorenhal.”

A bright, cheerful figure practically bounced into view. “Hello, candidates! Nice to meet you!” Mira’s lighthearted tone was enough to make the tension in the room ease. Some students even laughed, while others whispered about her fame outside the academy.

Ron and Lia stayed silent, watching.

“And lastly,” Lucen said with a slight smile, “our newly appointed professor. He joined the academy just three days ago. Presenting—Professor Zane Creed.”

The name dropped into the room like a stone into still water—yet no ripples followed. Most students simply tilted their heads, unfamiliar with the name.

But for Ron and Lia, the reaction was instant and visceral. Their eyes widened in shock.

From behind the stage stepped a tall man in a white shirt, black trousers, and a long grey coat that swayed with each step. His purple eyes glimmered with quiet confidence as he moved to the front.

Ron and Lia’s surprise deepened—there was no mistaking him.

It was really… Mr. Zane.

“Hello, kids,” Zane said casually, his gaze sweeping the crowd. Most candidates assumed he meant everyone. But Ron and Lia… they were certain his eyes lingered on them.

And then—he smiled.

.

.

.

Lucen’s voice rang out once more.

“Now, we begin the number drawing. As per the instructions you’ve been given—step forward and draw your ticket.”

Ron and Lia were still reeling from the revelation that Zane was here… as a professor. The thought alone was enough to keep them frozen for a moment.

Aurelian appeared at their side, grinning.

“Come on, you two. Top ten draws first.”

Ron gave a silent nod. Lia followed, still glancing toward the stage where Zane stood with that calm, unreadable expression.

One by one, the top ten stepped forward. Ron reached into the small box first, withdrawing a slip of parchment. Lia came next, her fingers brushing the smooth surface before pulling hers out.

Not far away, Arin Blake drew his number with a sharp, impatient motion. Lirael, expression as serene as ever, took hers without a word.

Soon, the drawing was complete.

An instructor’s commanding voice broke the buzz of conversation.

“All matches will begin simultaneously in the prepared exam hall!”

He raised a small artifact in his hand.

A deep, mechanical rumble shook the air—then, across the vast hall, the floor split apart. Massive stone platforms rose from below, stage after stage emerging until ninety circular arenas stood side by side, each marked and ready.

“Rules are simple,” the instructor declared. “Step out of bounds, or lose consciousness in any way—you lose. No exceptions.”

Candidates began moving to their assigned arenas, climbing the short steps onto the elevated stone circles. The sound of footsteps and hushed whispers filled the hall.

Ron stepped onto his stage, rolling his shoulders. Lia took her position at another, a short distance away.

But just as the first matches were about to begin, Lucen’s voice cut through the air.

“Wait.”

The Vice Chairman walked straight toward Lia—though his eyes flicked to Ron as well.

“Both of you… should remove your disguises. Whatever the reason you’re in them, this is the academy. It’s safe here.”

Shock flashed across both their faces. They had planned to remove the disguise rings after the exams were over—not now.

But somehow, Lucen had seen through them.

Almost at the same time, their gazes turned toward Zane. He stood on the judge’s platform, meeting their eyes briefly… then gave a single, almost lazy nod.

With no choice left, Ron and Lia reached for their rings.

One twist. A faint shimmer of magic.

And their disguises fell away.

The shimmer of magic faded, and the disguises dissolved into nothing.

For a heartbeat, silence swept the hall—then hundreds of eyes turned toward them.

Ron now stood revealed in full: short, untamed cream-white hair that caught the light with a faint golden sheen, and sharp amber eyes that carried the instinctive weight of a predator sizing its surroundings.

Beside him, Lia’s hood slid back, her long brown-gold hair spilling like liquid silk down her back. Her dusk-pink eyes glimmered faintly in the light, drawing attention like a magnet.

Gasps rippled through the hall.

Whispers flared instantly.

Lucen’s lips curved into a wide smile, his voice booming.

“Hahaha! Well, well… it’s not every day we have the prince of Glimmereach Kingdom and the princess of Thesmaris Kingdom sitting for an entrance exam. Weren’t you both invited to Astralis Arcanum already? Tell me, Ron Volkov… Lia Isolde?”

Ron scratched the back of his neck, his expression stiff.

“Uh… yeah, but… we had some situations.”

Lia nodded quickly, looking just as uneasy.

“That’s right.”

The crowd’s murmurs sharpened. Some students stared openly at Ron with newfound awe. Others were captivated by Lia’s beauty—enough to spark comparisons.

“She’s… even more beautiful than Lirael…” one voice whispered.

“No way. Elf princess Lirael is untouchable.”

“Still… look at her…”

Across the hall, Arin’s eyes widened. His lips curled into a half-smirk as he muttered under his breath,

“I knew she’d be a beauty… but not to this extent.”

On the judge’s platform, Zane leaned back slightly, watching him with casual interest.

A small, knowing smile tugged at his mouth.

Let’s see how this goes.

.

.

.

The hum of the crowd dimmed as the instructors’ voices echoed over the hall.

On his stage, Ron now stood without disguise—white-gold hair and amber eyes unmistakable—facing his first opponent.

A brown-haired boy gripped his sword with trembling hands, sweat already beading at his temples.

It wasn’t just that Ron was ranked number one. Now, everyone knew he was also a prince. The boy’s lips pressed tight—he couldn’t even use his own noble status to bow out without looking like a coward.

The instructor raised a hand.

“Begin!”

Ron didn’t even bother releasing his magic aura. He simply stepped forward—

—and vanished.

The boy’s eyes darted wildly, only to feel a gust of wind at his side before his foot slid over the edge.

A heartbeat later, he was standing outside the ring, blinking in confusion.

The match was over.

Ron stood in the center, hands in his pockets, brows drawn slightly together.

“…Wasn’t that a little too easy?” he muttered, scanning the crowd as if he expected someone to tell him it was a warm-up round.

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