The carriage had come to a halt.
The coachman, black-haired and nobly dressed, wore a black eyepatch over his left eye and an eight-panel cap atop his head.
He climbed down from his seat and walked to the carriage door.
The door bore the Bologne House Crest: dozens of golden swords planted into the ground.
The coachman opened the door and stepped aside, the warm air from inside seeping out.
Seconds later, a man descended the two steps that separated the carriage from the ground.
The man's name—Joseph Bologne, the current Vice Principal of the most prestigious academy in the world.
Joseph was deathly pale.
He had neatly pomaded black hair.
His dark brown eyes were sunken with dark circles and heavy bags resting under them.
He wore a long, collared black coat embroidered with gold, the Bologne's crest stitched on the back in its center.
Beneath the coat was a neatly pressed white vest and a silky black tie.
His left hand rested inside a worn but spotless white glove.
Joseph reached into his right coat pocket and pulled out a small black bottle.
Opening it, he removed a single white pill before returning the bottle to his pocket.
He swallowed the pill, then glanced over at the coachman.
"Baron Parkenhurst, if you could—after you return to the academy—please have the physician leave a new bottle of medication in my office for me."
Baron Parkenhurst placed a fist over his heart and bowed.
"It will be done as you requested, Lord Bologne."
Joseph gave a tired smile.
"Thank you." he said.
Joseph turned away from the Baron and pressed forward, his heels striking the dirt road.
Before him, beyond the road and grass, stretched a cobbled path, and surrounding him on all sides was a vast forest.
This forest—Myrkwood, located in the Western Wilds—was one of the final stages of the academy's yearly examination.
Myrkwood was one of the largest forests on the continent of Lumieris, its size mocking even small cities.
The Academy only owned a few miles of the forest, as the rest were owned by nobles who purchased pieces of the land following the western gold rush.
Joseph continued down the path and eventually arrived at an open field.
The field was filled with people—or rather, potential students wanting to alter the trajectory of their destiny.
There were, at least, two hundred and fifty of them, each standing in neat lines like soldiers.
Their arms were pressed against their sides; fists resting along the seams of their trousers.
In front of the formation stood a raised platform.
And atop that platform stood two senior instructors—one man and one woman.
Everything was quiet, Joseph's footsteps being the sole exception….
'This year's speech. I was so preoccupied with reviewing the other's speeches that I didn't have time to perfect my own draft. I'll just have to combine last year's speech with the draft. Hah…I want to hurry up and retire.'
Joseph made his way to the top of the platform using the polished wooden steps.
He strode past the instructors, sparing them a brief glance before standing before the crowd.
His hands moved behind him, resting on the small of his back, and he spoke, his voice echoing like thunder.
"At ease!"
The crowd of individuals exhaled in an eccentric unity.
Some took the time to stretch their joints; many of them spoke to one another in hushed tones; and a few stood there, looking at Joseph, awaiting his instructions.
Joseph gave them a temporary leisure, deciding to use this time to observe the potential students' expressions.
Many displayed anxiety and fear.
A decent handful showed courage.
A couple had no particular facial expression.
'Don't worry. I was, perhaps, more terrified than any of you when I made it to this stage. As the third son, my life would have been ruined if I failed.'
Slowly, after some time, the nerves of those anxious and fearful relaxed—or they learned to hide it better.
One student took Joseph's position, followed by another, followed by another, followed by another… until everyone took the position.
'…Hm. Certainly faster than last year but a little slower than the year before last.'
Joseph adjusted his glove before resuming his position and addressing the crowd.
"Good morning to all of you. My name is Joseph Bologne, third son of a viscounty in the Eastern Frontier of Lumieris. I am the current vice headmaster of Lumieris Academy's combat department. Like all of you, I also wanted to attend this academy. Though, my reasons may differ from most of you."
Joseph paused and began to pace around the platform.
Those fearless followed him with their eyes; the fearful and intelligent kept their gaze ahead.
"In the crowd, I can see different ranks of status—Dukes, Counts, Barons, and those without ranks. At Lumieris Academy, rank means nothing. But, I'm sure some will still abuse their position. At Lumieris Academy, talent means little without effort and hard work means nothing with talent. I believe that to succeed in this academy, you need a goal to strive for; a reason to wake up; a purpose behind every slash, thrust, and poke with your weapon."
He stopped in front of the crowd again and touched his chest with his right hand.
"My goal was simple: To be free and live the way I wished. I believe that with Lumieris Academy, each and every one of your goals can be achieved, whether you goal is to become a Lumini user who goes down in history, become one of the brightest minds people can reference in the future, a leader that commands armies, a legendary weapons master, or…"
He paused for a beat.
"dare I say…a king."
There was almost no person in the crowd whose eyes didn't widen at Joseph's words.
How could they not?
To them, desiring to become king was akin to wishing the current king was sent to the gallows and the crown prince to be dethroned.
Joseph adjusted his glove as his words were digested by those in the crowd.
He took position again.
"My words, as blasphemous as you may find them, are true. Such a goal is not unreachable, though it is deemed as such. If it was truly unfathomable, then history itself is a lie."
Joseph deliberately paused once more.
"Now…" he said, his eyes sweeping over the crowd.
"All of you have one task: Survive until only one hundred and twenty remain. How you survive—hiding, fighting, outsmarting—is up to you. However, your rank in this exam will be determined by us. Right now, you all stand on the edge of Myrkwood. Behind me, a distance away, is the center of your examination area. In the center of this area is a spiral tower where me and my senior instructors will watch all of you with the help of Lumini orbs."
As if waiting, a white orb the size of an infant's head flew from the forest behind him, floating next to his face.
The orb had a single black pupil.
Joseph grabbed the orb and palmed it.
"Each of these is controlled by an instructor, upperclassmen, and additional staff from a spire tower located in the four corners of this examination area. You are not to go past these towers. Doing so would mean immediate disqualification of your exam", he said, releasing the orb.
The orb flew up and back into the forest.
"Embedded into the ground are pressure stones. When you use Lumini, the pressure stones react to the pressure emitted from your Lumini and send a signal to us."
Joseph gave a tired smile.
"Due to staffing, we are unable to watch everyone at once, so…do what you must to get our attention—if rank is important, that is."
The wind attempted to blow Joseph's pomaded hair, to no avail.
"And as for how you are eliminated. Those flags you received after the second exam are what eliminate you from this one. I believe you were told to keep them hidden on your person." he said, looking back at the instructors, who both nodded once.
Though the crowd of people stayed their position, their eyes evaluated those around them again.
Whether their gaze was for potential teammates or prey was something only they knew.
Joseph turned back to the crowd and gave his final words.
"Do your best to survive…and don't get your flag taken. You are all dismissed."
Joseph felt the field's pressure change.
The people in the crowd shot out of the formation and into the forests.
Some didn't get the memo or simply dozed off during the speech and reacted late.
Within thirty seconds, the group of two hundred and fifty were gone.
Amidst the quiet field, the two instructors approached Joseph.
The man was Thorpe Churchill.
Thorpe was a handsome-looking count appearing to be in his mid to late thirties from the snowy mountains of the Northern Belt.
His eyes were a warm and relaxed blue, his mustache was thin and sharp, and his brown hair was tousled and short.
He was more casually dressed than other nobles of the same rank.
He had a thick, worn-out dark brown woolen coat that hugged his lean but muscular build.
Under that was a brown garb, a quarter of the way unbuttoned.
A plaid-brown kilt fell past his knees.
The woman was Mai.
Her straight black hair fell to the center of her back, curling at its ends.
Her eyes were differently colored—one being a delicate brown, the other a striking wolf blue.
Mai was a fallen noble from the deserts of the Southern Expanse and a retired adventurer.
She wore a cream blouse with ruffled sleeves.
On her forearms were black leather braces; matching shoulder guards rested above.
A black, corset-like vest wrapped around her waist, accentuating her curvaceous figure and ample chest, while a platinum belt and cream-colored sash were secured neatly around her hips.
Platinum earrings hung from her ears; two matching rings rested on her thumbs.
Mai was the first to speak to Joseph, her voice and mannerisms eager and excited.
"Joseph, Joseph! I saw a guy with the same glove as you, but on his right hand! You should challenge him to a duel after the exam—the winner gets to have both gloves and complete the set!"
Thorpe was next.
"Vice-headmaster, let's head over to the tower. I would rather sit than stand while we chat."
"Lady Mai, I'll be sure to check for him. Sir Thorpe, I see no reason to object to your suggestion. Let us head over."
With the exam officially started, the three headed over to the tower to oversee it.