Froy awoke to the gentle hum of the high-tech dormitory provided by the Arcanthia Academy. This wasn't just any dorm—it was part of the inner sanctum, more luxurious and advanced than anything he'd experienced before. As he sat up, a transparent status window materialized before his eyes, likely embedded in every candidate who had passed the first trial. The message read:
The Last Trial: Battle Royale (Starts in 3 Hours)
Without haste, Froy proceeded through his morning routine—eating, bathing, and taking in the serene view from his quarters. Time flowed steadily, and as the three-hour mark approached, he felt the familiar pull of teleportation magic.
In an instant, he found himself in a separate dimension, surrounded by the other 999 candidates who had earned their place in Arcanthia. A resonant voice echoed through the space:
"Welcome, students. This is your final trial before officially joining the academy: a Battle Royale. The more opponents you defeat, the more Duel Points (DP) you'll earn. These points can be exchanged for various amenities within the school. You must survive for nine days. Should you find yourself in grave danger or unable to continue, you'll be extracted immediately. However, failing to endure the full duration will result in a penalty of -1,000 DP."
The voice paused, then continued with a hint of amusement:
"You'll be transported to the Garden of Eden—a vast island teeming with wildlife, fruits, and resources essential for survival. Beware, though; some plants are poisonous, and formidable beasts roam the land. Defeating these creatures will grant you extra points. But don't worry—the worst that can happen is an eternal slumber," the voice chuckled. "Rest assured, medical teams and healers are on standby to assist you."
With that, all 1,000 participants were teleported to the Garden of Eden—a sprawling island covering approximately 1,860 square kilometers. It appeared tranquil and picturesque, but perhaps that was merely an illusion. Regardless, each candidate now faced the daunting task of surviving for nine days, with one clear objective:
"Hunt for points!"
The moment all one thousand students were teleported onto the Garden of Eden, the battle had officially begun.
Each contestant arrived in a randomized location—spaced far enough to prevent immediate conflict. Some landed near rivers, others amidst ancient ruins, dense jungles, mist-covered valleys, or wild cliffs. It was survival now. For nine days.
But Froy?
Froy did not run. He did not scout the land, search for allies, or prepare for a fight.
He stood still.
He closed his eyes.
And whispered:
"Sethvyr, deliverer of ruin... Lend me a fraction of your power."
"Let calamity descend, that I may rise above all others."
The sky did not hesitate.
The winds howled.
Then screamed.
From the edge of the ocean, four colossal hurricanes erupted, spiraling toward the island like divine punishments. Saltwater and seafoam twisted into the storm, swallowing the horizon.
Thunder cracked.
Lightning danced.
And as the winds tore across the land, the skies darkened completely—blanketing the entire island in eternal twilight. The clouds surged with a storm's fury, and rain fell not in drops… but in walls.
A titanic lightning tempest was born.
And it would not stop.
It could not stop.
Because this was not a natural storm.
It was a Miracle.
And Miracles—when summoned by Froy—could not harm their master.
He stood, untouched, as nature screamed around him. No branch would fall on him. No wind would carry him away. No lightning would dare strike.
But the rest?
The other 999?
Their breath was barely caught before chaos swallowed the island.
Animals scattered.
Trees split.
Camps shattered before they were ever built.
The storm had no direction… because it had one purpose:
Disrupt everything.
And amidst the tempest, a single boy stood unmoved, his white-blond hair dampened by rain, eyes glowing faintly with calm intent.
His plan was not to kill.
His plan was not to fight.
His plan was to reset the board.
The Garden of Eden — 15 minutes into the trial
The sky had darkened.Not like dusk, or passing clouds—but like the breath of a god holding back the sun.
Winds screamed through the trees, bending ancient trunks like blades of grass.Rain fell in sheets, drenching the island in seconds. Thunder rolled. Lightning tore the sky apart.
Chaos began.
Somewhere near the northern cliffs, a girl with antlers barely managed to shield herself under a moss-covered ridge. She clutched a charm to her chest, muttering prayers.
"What the hell is this!? This isn't a normal trial!"A beastkin boy roared, his fur soaked and his weapon sparking from residual lightning.
Groups scattered.Alliances broke.The weak didn't even have time to scream before mudslides and falling trees separated them.
In the western jungles, a cluster of dwarves tried to form a barrier of stone—but it shattered under a freak bolt of blue lightning.
In the center of a mountain basin, a half-elf collapsed, screaming and clutching her head."It's too much… the pressure—it's not natural!"
Meanwhile…
Far above, in the eye of the storm, the Top 30 candidates stood still—unmoving, unbothered.
One of them, a blue-haired boy with a violet eye, lifted his arms slightly, enjoying the cool breeze."Feels… refreshing," he muttered.
A girl whose cloak radiated light hovered calmly under a protective aura, her expression bored.
One particularly sharp-eyed examiner watching from afar whispered to himself:"This… is not a random storm."
Back in the chaos, someone finally shouted what others had begun to think.
"Is this part of the test!?"
A thunderclap answered.
And those who barely held on, who had no shelter or strength or resistance—
They began to break.
Some fell to their knees.
Some vanished—teleported out for failing to withstand the island's rage.
None of them suspected the truth.
None of them saw the boy who had caused it.
Froy stood calmly under a tree untouched by wind or water. Not a drop hit his cloak.
His eyes were closed.
His whisper had become a storm.
And the world…was starting to bend.
Elsewhere — Monitoring Chamber, Floating Observation Spire
A translucent dome showed the entire Garden of Eden in real time. Dozens of glowing dots blinked across the landscape—some flickering wildly, others already dimmed.
A younger examiner, sweat dripping from his brow, leaned over a control glyph.
"Sir! We've detected massive anomalies—four hurricanes, constant lightning strikes, temperature drops of twenty degrees, and oceanic turbulence. This shouldn't be happening, not inside a sealed testing dimension!"
He turned to the senior proctor—a tall man in charcoal robes trimmed with blue. His eyes glowed faintly with runes of perception.
"Shall we halt the trial?" the young man asked, nervous. "Evacuate? It could be a natural disaster, sir!"
The elder didn't even blink. His tone was calm. Steady.
"Natural disasters don't happen in Arcane-sealed domains."
He stepped forward, gaze locked on the map.
"This was built by the Grand Magus himself. The environment cannot be altered unless… someone inside wills it."
The assistant went pale.
"You mean… one of the students…?"
The proctor's lips curled slightly.
"You've forgotten, haven't you? This trial—this school—was never meant for the ordinary. Only those who surpass human limits may survive."
He raised one hand toward the screen.
"Anyone who cannot endure it, teleport them out and dock one thousand points. Let them remember this as their first lesson."
He paused.
Then added quietly, almost to himself:
"…And keep your eyes on the ones who remain standing."