After the incident at the campsite, no clear answers ever came. No suspect was named, no hidden enemy revealed, and no explanation was given to the students. The academy quietly reinforced patrols, increased barriers, and tightened schedules, but outwardly everything returned to normal.
Monster attacks slowed to a rare occurrence again, just enough to make the danger feel distant but not forgotten. Rumours filled the space where truth should have been — that a forbidden mage had entered the grounds, that a student had gone missing, that royal knights were secretly hunting someone — but the academy offered nothing but silence, and over time the whispers faded into background noise.
The theory exams came and went, long days of written tests and sleepless nights of revision replacing fear with exhaustion, and when the last paper was turned in, the academy announced the annual challenge event — a public tournament held in the great stadium where any student could challenge any other, regardless of rank or status, and victory was determined only by strength, skill, and endurance.
It was meant to release tension, to encourage growth, and to remind everyone that power could be earned, not inherited.
The stadium filled quickly on the day of the event, seats packed with students, nobles, merchants, guild representatives, and teachers, the air humming with mana and anticipation. Challenges flew one after another, laughter and cheers mixing with the clash of spells and steel.
Two noble heirs tried their luck against Lily first, drawn by her beauty as much as by her reputation, but neither lasted long. Her movements were fluid and sharp, her magic precise, flowers and roots blooming and striking with terrifying elegance, and within moments, both challengers were defeated, not humiliated, but unmistakably outmatched.
Neo was challenged next by a noble girl whose jealousy burned hotter than her magic, anger fueled by the fact that her own partner admired Neo openly. The duel was fast and emotional, bursts of light clashing against refined mana techniques, but Neo held steady, her control stronger than her opponent's spite, and she won with calm grace, earning both applause and resentment.
Lara stood near the edge of the field, hands clenched, when three nobles stepped forward to challenge her — the same ones who had mocked her, whispered about her unstable mana, and laughed when she struggled. Her face went pale, but she didn't step back.
Before the duel, Eira stood beside her quietly.
"You're not the girl they remember anymore."
"I'm still afraid."
"That's fine. Fear doesn't mean weak. It means careful."
She nodded.
"I'll watch for the moment you hesitate. Don't hesitate."
Lara entered the field with shaking hands and left it exhausted, barely standing, but victorious. Her mana flared unevenly, her control imperfect, but her will was stronger than her fear, and when the final noble fell, the crowd erupted into confused applause — not for a flawless victory, but for a stubborn, undeniable one.
Then Jack stepped forward.
This time, he was different.
His posture was sharper, his movements tighter, his mana heavier, and the air around him felt thick and wrong, like gravity itself had grown hostile. Eira felt it before the duel even began — a pressure not just on the body, but on the spirit.
The moment the signal sounded, Jack attacked with relentless force, gravity folding and crushing space itself, slamming Eira to the ground again and again before he could even regain balance.
Eira fought back with everything he had, speed, technique, instinct, his blade flashing with magic, but nothing seemed enough. Jack's power was overwhelming, unnatural in its intensity, and his eyes carried something empty and cold that hadn't been there before.
The fight grew brutal.
Steel rang. Mana exploded. Stone cracked.
Eira pushed himself beyond his limits, blood on his lip, breath ragged, body burning, but every strike was crushed, bent, or thrown aside, and finally, gravity slammed him into the arena floor hard enough to shatter stone beneath him.
The crowd went silent.
"Stop! That's enough!"
Ken leapt into the arena, blade drawn, positioning himself between Jack and Eira, and Lily rushed forward to Eira's side, dropping to her knees, hands glowing as she tried to stabilise him.
Neo ran to them, panic breaking through her calm.
"Please, stop it — he's going to die!"
Jack stood still, breathing heavy, his expression unreadable, the strange pressure around him fading only slowly.
The teachers called the match.
Eira didn't hear them.
He had already lost consciousness.
Sleep took Eira not like rest, but like falling through cold water.
Darkness closed around him, thick and silent — and then the snow began to fall.
White ground stretched endlessly in every direction. The sky above was pale, colorless, as if the world itself had been drained of warmth. He stood barefoot on the frost, his breath misting in front of him.
A figure appeared before him.
She was tall and graceful, hair flowing like misted snow, eyes glowing pale blue. Cold radiated from her presence.
"You asked me to prove your worth," she said calmly. "So prove it."
Eira clenched his fists. "I am trying."
"Trying is not enough," the goddess replied. "You lose fights. You stay weak. And because of that, one day, you will lose everyone you care about."
"That's not true," he snapped. "I'm getting stronger."
She tilted her head slightly, studying him.
"You were given a choice," she said. "To stay magicless. To live peacefully in the countryside. To grow old quietly."
She stepped closer.
"But instead, you joined the Adventurer Guild."
Eira's voice shook. "Neo was hurt. I couldn't just do nothing."
"She was going to be saved by the hero," the goddess said flatly.
His heart skipped.
"…What?"
She smiled — and it was wrong. Too sharp. Too knowing.
"You still don't know who you are in this story, do you?" she laughed softly. "How amusing."
Eira felt a chill that had nothing to do with snow.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "I know my past life."
She circled him slowly.
"Forget your past," she whispered. "You are still lying in that alley, bleeding out, calling to a goddess who is powerless."
His head spun.
"She sent you to a world you wanted," the voice continued, "not to a world where her power could exist."
"I don't understand," he said, pressing his hands to his temples.
"Does none of this ring a bell?" she asked. "Nothing at all?"
His vision blurred. The snow melted into flame.
The world changed.
Heat replaced cold. The white sky burned red. The figure before him was no longer pale — her hair was dark and glowing like embers, her eyes burning gold.
"I am not the one you think I am," she said.
Fire Goddess.
"Participate in the final competition," she whispered. "Then you will know whose story this really is."
Her voice echoed.
And the world shattered.
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Eira in the present.
One evening, when the village grew quiet, Eira caught his reflection in a polished sheet of ice near the water stores. He froze. For a moment, he thought he was looking at someone else—someone older, sharper, too composed.
The silver hair framed his face differently than he remembered. His eyes were lighter than they should have been. He raised a hand, and the reflection followed.
"That's… me?" he whispered. The thought struck him hard: he felt the same inside, but the person looking back didn't match the life he remembered. Or maybe—he wondered—it matched it too well.