Godslayer's Legacy: THE PATH TO SUPREMACY

The buzz of excitement lingered in the air as the Academy's new students gathered in the colossal Hall of Aspirants. The walls stretched upward to a vaulted ceiling adorned with enchanted frescoes that shifted and shimmered, depicting scenes of past triumphs, duels, and legendary mages. The sheer scale of the hall was overwhelming, designed to remind every student of the grandeur they had entered—and the expectations that came with it.

Rui stood amidst the crowd, his silver eyes scanning the faces around him. Some carried the confidence of privilege, others the quiet determination of those who had fought hard to stand here. Whispers filled the space as students exchanged words about their trials, speculating about the top performers and sizing up potential rivals.

At the far end of the hall, a raised dais held a group of figures in ornate robes—the Academy's council. In the center stood Archmage Lysander, his presence commanding even before he began to speak. His voice, enhanced by subtle magic, rang through the hall, silencing the murmurs.

"Welcome to the Royal Academy of Aetherial Arts," Lysander began, his piercing gaze sweeping across the assembled students. "You stand here not because of your names or your bloodlines, but because you have shown the potential to rise above the ordinary. However," he paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, "potential means nothing without action."

The room was utterly silent, the tension palpable. Rui could feel the pressure in the air, an unspoken challenge hanging over them all.

"The Academy is a crucible," Lysander continued, his voice steady. "A place where raw talent is forged into true strength. Here, you will be tested—not once, not twice, but every day. And one of the measures of your progress is the Ranking System, which determines not only your standing among your peers but your very place within these walls."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, quickly silenced by a sharp glance from another council member. Lysander continued, unfazed.

"Each year, students are ranked based on their performance in one-on-one duels. These rankings are updated monthly and reflect not only your victories but the strength of your opponents and the skill you display in combat. The rankings are not merely for prestige—they dictate access to advanced resources, privileges, and opportunities to represent the Academy in external affairs."

Rui listened intently, his mind already turning over the implications. Duels meant constant competition, and the stakes were clearly high.

"There is one rule you must keep in mind above all," Lysander said, his tone darkening. "At the end of each academic year, the bottom 10% of each year's rankings will be expelled. This is non-negotiable. The Academy does not tolerate mediocrity. You must prove your worth, not once, but consistently."

The weight of his words settled heavily over the hall. Rui noticed a few students shifting uncomfortably, their initial confidence shaken.

A woman stepped forward from the council, her robes marked with the sigil of the Combat Division. Her voice was sharp and clear as she spoke. "Each student must participate in a minimum of one duel per month to maintain their standing. Additional duels are encouraged, but beware—losing too many can hurt your rank just as much as winning against weak opponents can stagnate it."

"On the first of each month," she continued, "the rankings will be posted for each year. The top performers will gain access to advanced training halls, personal mentors, and specialized instruction. And for those who truly excel," she gestured grandly, "the Grand Arena awaits. At the beginning of every month, the top eight duelists will compete in a public exhibition, their matches witnessed by nobles, mages, and military leaders from across the continent."

The mention of the Grand Arena stirred a mix of excitement and trepidation. Rui's thoughts flickered briefly to his father's advice: "Strength is not just power—it is the ability to endure, to adapt, to outlast."

"Now," Lysander said, stepping forward again, "for those of you who have passed the trials, congratulations. You are no longer aspirants—you are students of the Academy. Take this time to reflect on what brought you here. And remember: this is only the beginning."

With that, the council members stepped back, and the room erupted into conversation. Rui caught snippets of voices around him.

"Bottom 10%? That's harsh."

"I'm not worried—I'll be in the top ranks in no time."

"Did you hear about the Grand Arena? That's where the real legends are made."

Rui's attention was drawn to a familiar figure approaching. Amara Velare, her crimson aura subtle but ever-present, offered him a faint smirk. "Looks like we're all in the same game now," she said, her tone light but edged with challenge. "Think you'll survive the first year, Kirean?"

Rui met her gaze evenly, his silver eyes calm. "Survival isn't my goal," he said simply.

Before Amara could respond, another voice cut in. "Bold words." Leoray Valden, his amethyst core a stark reminder of his refinement, stepped into the conversation. "But talk won't carry you in the rankings. Let's see if your actions measure up."

Rui didn't rise to the bait, his expression unreadable. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the dais, where the council members were beginning to leave. Actions, not words, he reminded himself.

As the crowd began to disperse, Rui felt a mix of anticipation and resolve. The path ahead was fraught with challenges, but he had no intention of faltering. The Academy wasn't just a place to learn—it was a battlefield, and Rui Kirean was ready to fight.