Pearl Institute smelled like ambition.
That was the best way Lu Jun could describe it—an air thick with ego, competition, and the rustle of students desperate to outshine one another. Even the sunlight slanting across the courtyard seemed to glow with the arrogance of future elites.
He adjusted his uniform. The fabric felt stiff—new, crisp, unfamiliar. Good. He didn't want to blend in yet. Let them underestimate him first. That made everything easier later.
Zhou Lixing jogged beside him, balancing a lunch bun in one hand. "Remember," he said between bites, "the placement exam isn't just about raw strength. They're watching attitude, discipline, control—basically, whether you embarrass the school when VIPs visit."
"And if someone tries to provoke me?" Lu Jun asked calmly.
"Handle it with grace."
"And if their idea of provocation involves fireballs?"
"Handle it with grace," Zhou repeated, then added, "and extreme violence. Quietly."
Lu Jun nodded.
That was more his speed.
They arrived at the large arena—a circular grounds surrounded by elevated seats. Hundreds of students crowded in, buzzing at the sight of a new face.
"Who's that?"
"Early admit? Looks too calm."
"Probably another provincial genius who'll get flattened by second-year elites."
"Bet he doesn't even know how cruel Pearl Institute is."
Lu Jun ignored all of it.
The supervising instructor—a stern man with wind-tossed hair—stepped forward.
"Lu Jun. Please demonstrate your Novice and Intermediate elemental abilities."
Lu Jun extended his hand.
At first, nothing happened.
Then water spiraled upward from the ground, forming a perfectly stable helix. Metal lines shimmered through the water like silver veins—two elements woven together in flawless synergy. The air rippled from the pressure.
Whispers filled the audience.
"Dual-element?"
"No… that control—look at the stability!"
"He's only early admission?!"
Lu Jun tightened the spiral and shot it skyward—
where it exploded into glittering shards of water and metal.
Polite applause.
Shock hidden behind composed faces.
A few students glared immediately.
Dangerous. Smart. Handsome. Calm.
People like Lu Jun made instant enemies on sight.
The instructor cleared his throat. "Very well. Combat evaluation next. Pairing you with—"
"ME."
A boy stepped forward. Muscular. Tall. Wearing the smug expression of someone who ate confidence for breakfast. His entourage trailed behind him.
Zhou Lixing groaned beside Lu Jun. "That's Jiang Yuefeng. Elite track. Enjoy."
The instructor sighed but gestured. "Fine. Arena C."
Students surged toward the viewing stands.
Lu Jun stepped into the arena, hands loose at his sides. Jiang Yuefeng cracked his knuckles like he was preparing to crush a watermelon.
"You're from some backwater city, right?" Jiang drawled. "We had one like you last year. Lasted fifteen seconds."
Lu Jun tilted his head. "Were those fifteen seconds the happiest of your life?"
The crowd choked.
Jiang's jaw ticked.
"Funny." He lifted his hand. Stars ignited in a green pattern—Wind. "Let's see if you're still funny after this."
Wind Disc snapped toward Lu Jun in a slicing arc.
Lu Jun raised a finger.
The water spiral reappeared—not defensive, but dense and heavy. It absorbed the disc with a soft hiss, metal streaks hardening the barrier.
Jiang blinked. "What—"
Lu Jun flicked his wrist.
"Water Coil."
The water shot forward, wrapping Jiang's legs in a sudden tight bind. Before the boy could break free, metal glinted—
"Metal Slash."
The slash didn't cut Jiang, but it sliced the ground beside his ankle, sending him hopping backward in panic, balance broken.
Lu Jun stepped forward.
Calm. Controlled. Effortless.
"First rule of fighting," he said softly. "Don't underestimate someone who isn't talking."
Jiang roared and launched Wind Burst—dashing forward in a blur. Lu Jun simply sidestepped. Jiang face-planted in the dirt.
The arena exploded in laughter.
Zhou Lixing whispered proudly, "That's my roommate."
Lu Jun ended the match with a Water-Pressure Burst that pinned Jiang flat onto the arena tiles. The instructor raised his hand.
"Enough. Winner: Lu Jun."
The stands erupted with murmurs.
"That was clean…"
"…unfair how elegant he is…"
"…why does he look like he belongs on a recruitment billboard…"
Lu Jun bowed politely and walked off, ignoring Jiang's sputtering curses.
His reputation at Pearl Institute began in that single moment—
Quiet, controlled, dangerous.
Across the city, Xu Mang paced slowly through a dim alley behind a herbal shop. He held a small vial of essence in his hand—a harmless practice catalyst, not the forbidden one.
He murmured notes under his breath.
"Resonance stable… overlay successful… soul pressure minimal…"
He extended his hand—and then—
Something flickered at the edge of his vision.
He turned.
A cloaked figure was watching him from the opposite rooftop. Just a silhouette. No mana signature. No sound.
The Thousandfold Concealment Sequence hummed quietly.
He shouldn't be detectible.
Which meant the stranger wasn't sensing him—
The stranger was observing the shop behind him.
Xu Mang narrowed his eyes.
"Not today," he whispered.
He stepped back into the shadows and vanished into the moving crowds.
The stranger did not follow.
But Xu Mang made a mental note:
The Magic Capital had more hidden currents than Bo City ever had.
He would have to be careful.
Extremely careful.
Meanwhile, Mo Fan followed Tang Yue into the mountains south of the Magic Capital, where mist curled along pine branches and beasts prowled deeper than the eye could see.
Tang Yue walked ahead, her red dress rippling in the wind. "This is where we train," she said. "Welcome to Clear Sky's off-grid field station."
Mo Fan stretched. "Great. Finally somewhere I can blow things up without fines."
Tang Yue sighed. "Please don't blow things up."
"No promises."
She led him to a cliff overlooking a valley filled with training dummies and stone markers. Then she flicked her wrist, igniting a small flame.
"This," she said, "is your goal."
Mo Fan stared.
It wasn't just fire.
It was crimson.
Alive.
Breathing like a blooming flower made of heat.
"Rose Flame," Tang Yue said gently. "An advanced Fire control threshold. If you learn this, your Intermediate fire spells will evolve faster."
Mo Fan's eyes widened. "I can… learn that?"
Tang Yue smiled. "With enough pain."
"…I don't like that smile."
"It's fine. Probably."
She flicked her hand again—the flame danced, bending, swirling, forming petals of pure heat.
Mo Fan extended his hand.
Fire gathered—violent, restless, unfocused.
"Mo Fan," Tang Yue said softly, stepping behind him and guiding his wrist, "control is not suppression. Control is understanding where the flame wants to go… and choosing to guide it there."
He felt her hand shift—
And suddenly his flame bent.
Just slightly.
Just enough to stop resisting him.
"Good," she whispered. "Again."
Mo Fan inhaled. The flame rippled. Breathed.
He closed his eyes.
And for the first time, it listened.
Back at Pearl Institute, trouble brewed faster than storm clouds.
Zhou Lixing burst into Lu Jun's room breathless.
"Lu Jun! Someone was poisoned!"
Lu Jun stood immediately. "Who?"
"One of the elite track students—Ming Xiao. Found foaming at the mouth behind the training hall. They're saying someone used a curse. A high-level one."
Lu Jun's eyes narrowed.
Curse magic.
Rare. Dangerous. Illegal without license.
"Who's leading the investigation?" Lu Jun asked.
"Zhao He."
Lu Jun stiffened.
Zhao He—the academy's resident Curse Department advisor. Young, brilliant, unnerving. A man who smiled too easily and stared too long.
They rushed out and made their way toward the infirmary building.
There, students clustered in nervous groups while instructors whispered angrily. Inside, Ming Xiao lay unconscious, skin tinted sickly green.
Zhao He stood beside him, fingers tracing the air.
"What do we have?" Lu Jun asked quietly.
Zhou Lixing whispered, "Poisoned mana channels. Curse Type—Widow's Pit. Only a trained curse mage could use it."
Zhao He turned, sensing Lu Jun's gaze. He smiled—a soft, unsettling curve.
"New student," he said. "Lu Jun, yes?"
Lu Jun nodded.
"Good," Zhao He murmured. "We'll be seeing more of each other."
Lu Jun did not like the way he said that.
Zhao He gestured broadly. "This campus has more shadows than students realize. Someone wanted Ming Xiao to suffer. Someone skilled."
His gaze flicked across the crowd…
And for a moment—just a flicker—his eyes sharpened toward Lu Jun.
As if testing something.
As if smelling something.
Lu Jun's heartbeat did not change.
Zhao He turned away.
But Lu Jun kept his guard up.
No one truly understood curse mages.
Not even themselves.
Night fell.
Xu Mang sat by the window in his rented room, watching the city lights flicker like drifting stars.
He held the forbidden manuscript in one hand, his fingers tracing the cold silver.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Lu Jun:
[Poisoning incident at Pearl. Curse mage involved. Keep distance.]
Another message from Mo Fan:
[Miss Tang Yue tried to kill me with training today. I am suing.]
A third message from Mo Fan, sent one minute later:
[…okay maybe not suing. But it hurt.]
Xu Mang smiled.
Three paths.
Three storms.
All inching closer to each other.
He placed the book down.
One day soon—not today, not this term, not even at Pearl Institute yet—he would forge the first new innate talent.
Zhao Manyan would become a walking fortress.
Mo Fan would become a natural disaster.
Lu Jun would rise without any clan behind him.
And Xu Mang?
He leaned back, eyes half-lidded.
He would make sure none of them ever felt powerless again.
The Magic Capital hummed outside.
A new arc had begun.