The moment the announcement ended, chaos erupted. Examinees scattered in every direction, scrambling to find partners.
Some paired up quickly with friends, while others eyed the weaker candidates like predators circling prey. Nobles, especially, sought easy wins to secure their spots. However, not everyone wanted an easy fight. A few searched for strong opponents—real challenges that would prove their worth as potential Magic Knights.
Then there were those still wandering in panic, desperate to pair with anyone.
"Poor sap," someone near Emilia muttered, nodding toward Asta, who was darting between people like a lost child. "Think the little guy'll find someone before time's up?"
"Who knows? All he's been doing is yelling like a maniac, so I wouldn't be surprised if people stay away." His friend comments in agreement.
Before Emilia could look away from the spectacle Asta was putting on, the lanky mage from earlier swaggered up to him, wearing a smug grin and offering a hand. Asta's face brightened immediately, relief washing over him as he got on his knees and thanked him graciously.
Meanwhile, in the center of the arena, a robed mage raised his arm to get everyone's attention. "Alright! Clear the field! First bout—who's stepping up?"
Examinees pulled back behind the columns ringing the arena, murmuring with anticipation. Emilia and Kazuya stayed near the edge, still partnerless. It wasn't surprising—most avoided them, clearly not eager to fight people who looked too confident.
Then, cutting through the noise and crowd, Asta's voice rang out. "We're coming!"
He ran toward the center, the insect-like mage following with the same cocky smirk.
Asta grinned, pumping a fist. "We're both aiming to become Magic Knights, so let's make it a fair fight! No holding back!"
The other man chuckled and leaned close, resting a hand on Asta's shoulder. He whispered something in his ear—something that wiped the smile right off Asta's face.
His cheerful expression hardened into one of quiet fury as the lanky mage backed away to his position, readying himself.
Emilia frowned from the sidelines, eyes narrowing. "Must've shown his true colors to get him riled up like that. Figures, the guy was way too chummy with him from the start. Hopefully, Asta kicks his ass."
Once they separated, the robed mage looked between the two and raised his arm high. "Now, begin!" he shouted, swinging his hand down to start the match.
The lanky mage smirked, leaning forward with confidence. "No pulling punches, remember?" he sneered, his grimoire snapping open with a sharp blue flash. "Let's do this, Asta! Ahaaa!"
Chunks of bronze magic swirled and fused around him, forming piece by piece into a polished armored shell. Protruding from its surface, several cannon-like tubes rotated and locked into place, all aimed directly at Asta.
"Bronze Creation Magic: Sekke Magnum Cannonball!" he bellowed, puffing his chest with pride as the spell finished coalescing.
Emilia raised a brow. "So that's his name? He really named his spell after himself? How embarrassing..." Still, she couldn't deny the craftsmanship. "Not a bad defense, though. I wonder how Asta plans to break through it, if he can."
Asta took a measured breath before his girmoire came to life, drawing from it a massive, pitch-black sword. Grabbing it, he dashed at incredible speed toward Sekke and, before he could react, brought it down in a single, clean arc. The bronze shell shattered instantly, allowing Asta's blade to strike true, slamming Sekke into the ground.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Emilia's eyes widened slightly, her breath catching. Kazuya, on the other hand, burst into laughter.
"Holy... he cut right through it like warm butter. How in the hell did he manage that so easily!?" Emilia thought, her eyes wide as the shock settled in.
From the crater, Asta stood upright, looking down at the semi-conscious man. "Unlike you, Sekke, I'm not joining the Magic Knights just so I can slack off and have a little fun," he said, swinging his blackened sword onto his shoulder. "I've got a much bigger goal... I'm gonna be the Wizard King!"
After the initial shock of what happened wore off, his declaration sparked mockery and laughter.
"Did he really just say that?" one examinee chuckled.
"The Wizard King... him? Seriously?" another sneered.
Asta turned toward them, fire blazing in his eyes. "THAT'S RIGHT!! I'M GONNA BECOME THE WIZARD KING!! YOU GOT IT!? THERE A PROBLEM WITH THAT!!?"
The laughter only grew louder, echoing around the arena.
Kazuya let out a hearty laugh as well, though his grin held no cruelty. "That's quite the goal! Do you think you can live up to your declaration, little one?"
"You just watch me!" Asta shot back, full of determination.
"I guess we'll see about that, won't we?" Kazuya yelled back.
Emilia's eyes lingered on the boy—this small, loud, unshakable bundle of determination who dared to shout his dream in the face of ridicule. There was something admirable about that... something pure.
But purity wasn't something she could afford anymore.
Her dreams weren't about hope or glory. They were about payback. Revenge for the fire that took her home. For the screams. For the faces she couldn't save. For the hands—her hands—stained with blood that refused to wash away.
"Withdrawal already, you dumb kid!" someone eventually shouted at Asta, snapping her attention to the boy, who was still standing in the center ring.
"WHO YOU CALLIN' A DUMB KID!!" Asta barked back as he finally stomped back toward Yuno, who stood further down the line from where Emilia and Kazuya were watching.
Once the healers finished tending to Sekke and carried him off, the matches resumed—one after another.
Some of the duels were genuinely impressive, especially those between nobles. Despite herself, Emilia couldn't help but admit their power was remarkable. Some even showed real technique, though most relied on sheer magic output to overwhelm their opponents.
The battles were fierce, but to her, they still felt lacking. "Nothing like our training back in Narin," she thought, arms crossed as sparks and spells clashed before her.
However, the crowd seemed pleased enough. People oohed and aahed at the grand displays of elemental magic, like one match where torrents of water collided against a rising earth golem. That match was a close call, with the water mage coming out on top.
It was after that match that a commotion farther up caught everyone's attention.
Shouldering through the crowd was the noble from earlier, the one who'd been glaring daggers at Kazuya. Those he bumped into turned, ready to snap at him—until they saw his fine clothes and recognized who he was. Their anger instantly wilted into nervous silence as he strode forward, eyes locked on Kazuya like a hunter spotting prey.
Emilia's expression flattened. "Oh, great..." she muttered under her breath. "Here comes trouble."
"Hey, you, foreigner!"
Kazuya blinked in surprise, while Emilia's expression hardened. "The hell did he just say?"
Her jaw tightened, but before she could open her mouth, Kazuya raised a hand subtly, stopping her.
He turned toward the noble who had called him out. "Is something the matter?" he asked evenly, voice calm.
The noble got in his face, his piercing orange eyes locked on Kazuya, narrowing with undisguised disgust.
"Of course there is! You!" he spat, jabbing a finger up into his chest. "What is an outsider like you even doing here!?"
Kazuya tilted his head with an easy grin. "Me? Well, I came here to join the Magic Knights, of course—specifically, the Crimson Lions!" he announced proudly, hands on his hips and chest puffed out.
A collective gasp and murmurs rippled throughout, quickly turning into snide remarks.
"The Crimson Lions?" someone scoffed.
"Hah! That's rich!" another snorted.
"Yeah, as if they'd ever let a foreigner in!"
The noble joined their jeering, "You? In the Crimson Lions? Hah! Gods above, you're delusional!"
Emilia's hands balled into tight fists at her sides. She could practically feel the heat rising behind her eyes. Every word that came out of that guy's mouth made her blood boil. But she forced herself to hold back—Kazuya could handle this. He would handle this.
When the noble finally caught his breath, his laughter curdled into a sneer. "Don't kid yourself. The Crimson Lions only take the strongest of warriors—if the Golden Dawn doesn't claim them first. And even then..." his tone dropped, oozing venom, "...they only recruit those of noble blood. There's no way in hell they'd ever pick a filthy mongrel like you."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice but not his malice. "Besides... I've dealt with your kind before. Slimy, lying rats. You eastern dogs—always smiling while you stab good, honest, hardworking people in the back." His eyes gleamed with hatred. "You and your kind don't belong in the Magic Knights. Hell, you don't even belong in this kingdom!"
The surrounding examinees exchanged uneasy glances, whispering under their breath.
Kazuya, however, didn't flinch. His expression remained unreadable—calm, steady, almost bored even. The complete opposite of what the noble clearly wanted, which annoyed him even more.
"Whatever backwater pit you crawled out of could never compare to the Clover Kingdom. I suggest you leave quietly before I humiliate you in front of everyone. I'll give you that much at least as the kind-hearted man that I am."
A deep hum filled the air—low and resonant. Mana rippled outward as vibrations shimmered in the space around him, distorting the air itself. The ground quivered beneath his feet, the echo of his magic making nearby examinees cover their ears.
"Wait—I recognize that magic, isn't it from House Valmere?" a girl asks her friend.
She nods, "Yup, that's House Valmere, alright, the legendary Sound Mages. I'm pretty sure they own most of the theaters and opera houses in the Clover Kingdom."
"No way... those guys can tear stone apart just with a single note. That foreigner's dead meat."
"That's right. I'm Victor Valmere — son of Edward Valmere." He threw his chin up, every word lacquered in pride. "I'm the strongest in my house, and I intend to prove it by joining the Golden Dawn!" He announces with a smug grin.
He then jabbed a finger at Kazuya again, getting in his face. "And you're going to be my stepping stone. I challenge you to a duel."
"I accept." Kazuya instantly responded.
"Good boy," the noble sneered. "But understand this—by the time I'm finished, not even the healing mages will be able to piece you back together. I'll crush you, you invasive insect, and send you crawling back to where you belong." With a hard shoulder check, he shoved past Kazuya and strode into the circle.
"Fuck him up, Moleface," Emilia said. He gave her a thumbs-up as he walked toward the center with his partner.
She smiled, watching them take their places at opposite ends of each other. "That guy's so screwed. This'll be over in an instant."
The officiating mage then stepped in, shouting, "Second bout—begin!"
The second his hand shot down, both grimoires flared open.
Victor scoffed, his expression twisting with contempt. "What a pathetic and ugly grimoire. Nothing like my illustrious tome. Then again, I suppose it fits an eastern mutt like you."
His velvety purple grimoire shimmered as pages fluttered open, spilling radiant, lightly purpled mana into the air.
"Now then, I'll end this in a single stroke!" he roared. "Sound Creation Magic: Valmere Symphony!"
Light-purple instruments—horns, drums, and trumpets—materialized behind him. In perfect unison, they began to blare an ear-splitting, discordant melody, all directed at Kazuya.
The sound ripped through the air in vibrating waves that smashed into him, shaking the very ground beneath his feet.
Yet, Kazuya didn't flinch.
The vibrations hammered him relentlessly. His ears popped, blood trickled down his neck, yet he stood tall, grinning through the pain—his eyes fixed on the noble with fearless defiance.
Gasps broke out among the onlookers.
"He's just taking it!?"
"That kind of vibration magic would shatter bones—what is he made of!?"
Emilia's breath caught. "You idiot... You could've dodged that. But no, you just had to show off..."
Victor's eyes went wide. "H-How are you even standing!?!" he shouted, disbelief cracking his voice.
Kazuya just laughed — loud and unbothered. "That's your big attack? You call that a symphony?" He grinned viciously. "I've heard better sound coming from dying animals!"
"S-SHUT UP, YOU WORM!!" Victor bellowed, his face burning red.
With a furious gesture, his grimoire flared again, dozens more brass instruments materializing in the air. They blared in a deafening chorus, waves of pressure shaking the earth. Several examinees clutched their ears, grimacing under the noise.
But Kazuya didn't flinch. In fact, he smiled wider.
His grimoire pulsed crimson, its pages turning with a roar of flame. "Alright, this has been fun, but I think I've had about enough of all this noise," he remarked as a cocky grin formed. "It's my turn now."
He threw his arm out. "Hōen Haori — Phoenix Blaze Mantle!"
His tanned robes ignited, red fire crawling across them and flaring outward like the wings of a phoenix. The air shimmered, the heat wave so thick with mana that everyone nearby stumbled back. Even the captains looked impressed at its magnificence.
Within seconds, Victor's instruments began to ignite, their edges melting away as the magic holding them burned away and transferred back to Kazuya.
Victor stepped back, horrified. "W-What—what is this!? Those flames—they're devouring my magic!?"
The arena turned stifling. Sweat beaded on brows; the air itself seemed to quiver with heat. Even the stone beneath Kazuya's feet began to glow faintly red.
Emilia's brow creased. "If this keeps up, he's going to roast the entire arena," she muttered. "Hurry up and finish this, Moleface."
Kazuya's eyes glinted like molten gold through the flames. "I appreciate the mana boost," he said with a grin. "Though it wasn't as much as I expected." He tilted his head mockingly. "Guess you're just that weak."
"Y-YOU BASTARD!! DON'T MOCK ME!! I-I'M NOWHERE CLOSE TO BEING DONE!!" Victor roared in a cracking voice, his violet grimoire blazing to life once more.
He started to channel another spell—but Kazuya was already in motion, lazily summoning his crimson flame blade and giving it a casual swing. A small arc of red fire tore into the royal, the force alone sending him staggering backward despite the attack's modest power.
He tried to stand, summoning his grimoire to his side. It hovered for a moment before a crushing wave of exhaustion came over him. His knees buckled. The grimoire slipped from his grasp and hit the ground, its light dimming to a dull glow.
Kazuya's flames burned low and steady as his easy smile faded.
"It's been fun," he said, an edge of cruelty cutting through his normally cheerful voice, "but this is just pathetic. I've barely done anything to you, and you can't even stand." His gaze dropped, cold and dismissive. "How do you plan to fight me on your hands and knees?"
He raised his hand, a blade of fire forming with a sharp hiss, red light reflecting in his molten eyes.
"Maybe it's time I sent you back where you belong."
Victor clenched his teeth so hard his jaw trembled. Humiliation boiled over into pure rage, and with a snarl, he tore a concealed dagger from inside his coat and lunged with all his remaining strength. "WE'LL SEE WHO GETS THE LAST LAUGH!! DIE, YOU FILTHY MONGREL!!"
But Kazuya was already moving.
In a single, fluid motion, his flame-forged blade swept upward in a clean diagonal arc. The air cracked with searing heat as the strike landed, slicing into Victor's arm and sending both him and the knife tumbling to the ground.
"AAAAHHH—MY HAND!!" he screamed, collapsing into a writhing heap as tears flooded his eyes.
"You're lucky he didn't cut it off, bastard," Emilia thought coldly, her gaze fixed on the pathetic heap clutching his wound.
Kazuya exhaled through his nose, lowering his mana blade as the fire around him dimmed. "You should've stopped when you had the chance," he said quietly, his expression unreadable.
His flame cloak dissolved, the last embers fading into the air as he dismissed his blade and stowed his grimoire. With his fire gone, the stifling heat dissipated quickly, and Emilia released her spell, letting the floating orbs of light fade from above the arena.
"I can't believe he actually tried that," Emilia thought, glaring at the fallen dagger beside the noble's body. Her jaw tightened. "Then again... I guess I can. The way he talked to Kazuya—racist bastard."
The examinees were dead silent as the healers hurried across the field, their green magic glowing faintly as they began tending to Victor's wounds. But before they could finish, a calm, resonant voice broke through the uneasy murmurs.
"Once you're finished," William Vangeance started, rising from his seat, "I want him placed under arrest."
Everyone's eyes shot up to the Golden Dawn captain.
"Smuggling a concealed weapon within these walls is a grave offense; let alone using it to attack a fellow examinee," he continued, his tone deadly serious. "Whether commoner or noble, it is an act of cowardice that will not be tolerated." His golden eyes gleamed faintly behind the mask as he looked across the crowd.
A silent shiver swept through the examinees. No one dared to move.
"If any of you are even considering doing the same," Vangeance said, his last words carrying a quiet, unmistakable threat, "rest assured—you'll be dealt with swiftly and without mercy..."
His words sent another chill through the contestants' spines.
The moment Victor was loaded onto the stretcher, the healers placed him in anti-magic cuffs and hauled him away without further delay.
"I can't believe he actually brought a knife," one examinee whispered.
"Guess he wasn't as confident in his magic as he liked to act," another commented.
A third chimed in, tone shifting from judgment to awe. "Still though... that foreigner's no joke."
"For real! He flattened a noble and took that sound magic head-on like it was nothing!" his friend added, glancing at Kazuya with newfound respect.
Their words rippled through the crowd, murmurs of agreement following in waves. For the first time since the match began, the tone toward Kazuya wasn't scorn—it was respect.
Standing off to the side, Emilia allowed herself a small, proud smile. "About time they saw what I already knew," she thought.
"Alright!" Vangeance's voice rang out once more, cutting through the chatter. "Let us continue with haste, proceed with the next bout!"
With that, Kazuya strutted back toward Emilia — a healing mage following close behind.
"EMILIA!! DID YOU SEE HOW AMAZING I WAS!?" he yelled obliviously.
Emilia, along with everyone nearby, winced at his volume.
The healer beside him sighed tiredly. "His hearing will return to normal soon," he explained to her. "For now, though, it's... severely impaired."
Emilia nods. "Yeah, I gathered that, thanks."
As the mage returned to his duties, Kazuya's smile remained, still vibrating with excitement.
"HEY, EMILIA, DID YOU SEE—!?"
Emilia quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. "Yes, Moleface, I saw, we all did," she mouthed exaggeratedly, making sure he could read her lips. "Now stop yelling. Your ears are shot, and you're screaming like a banshee... Though I will say that was badass. Way to show him, Moleface."
Kazuya's eyes blinked, then crinkled with a wide grin beneath her hand, and he nodded.
Returning her arm to her side, Kazuya settled back beside her, still grinning from ear to ear.
Their attention then shifted as two new examinees stepped forward into the arena — one of them instantly recognizable.
It was Yuno.
Across from him stood a tall, noble-looking man with flowing blond hair and an air of arrogance. He idly twisted a lock of his hair between his fingers, smirking down his nose at Yuno as if already certain of the outcome.
Yuno, by contrast, stood calm and still, his golden eyes unreadable. His grimoire hovered quietly at his side, its pages fluttering faintly in the breeze that seemed to rise around him.
The officiating mage stepped into place between them, raising his hand high as he looked between them.
The air became so tense you could cut it with a knife.
"Now... BEGIN!!" he shouted, cutting his hand downward.
"Having the opportunity to battle the great Salim Hapshass—that alone is quite an honor," the noble drawled, continuing a conversation unheard. Twirling strands of his glossy blond hair between his fingers, he flashed a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "It'll give you something to talk about when you crawl back to your little village."
Emilia frowned. "Another arrogant noble... how surprising," she thought dryly, eyes flicking between them. "I wonder how Yuno's going to handle him?"
Yuno said nothing. His expression remained unreadable.
Salim's light-blue grimoire floated before him, pages glowing with rippling mana. "Well then," he sneered, "allow me to give you a parting gift! A noble's exclusive technique—Holy Lightning Rising Salim!"
Emilia's brow quirked. "What is with these guys and naming spells after themselves?" she muttered.
A massive orb of lightning crackled to life before Salim, its blinding arcs whipping upward and lashing across the air.
Yet Yuno didn't move. His wind stirred faintly around him, his expression still cold—completely unshaken.
Salim began laughing, his smug grin twisting into something darker. "...I've already arranged for your transportation home!" he cackled, flinging his arm forward as the enormous sphere of lightning roared toward Yuno.
Just as the ball of lightning looked ready strike Yuno, his voice cut through the chaos as his grimoire's pages glowed a fierce green. "Wind Magic: Towering Tordano!"
In an instant, a colossal tornado erupted from the ground up, consuming Salim's lightning spell. The crackling thunder clashed with his wind, but couldn't withstand its strength, and it began to rip apart.
Salim's smug laughter turned to panic as he struggled to stay upright, his coat and hair whipping wildly. But it wasn't long before he lost his footing.
"W-Wait—!" he shouted before the storm flung him — and his grimoire — helplessly into the air.
Yuno held him suspended a moment longer, letting Salim's helpless cries echo across the arena while every eye remained fixed on him in stunned silence.
"Damn... I knew he was strong, but this is something else," Emilia thought, her gaze locked onto Yuno, "It's no wonder he got the four-leaf."
She glanced at Kazuya. He, too, watched in awe — though the flicker of envy in his eyes didn't escape her notice. "Now I really do wonder how things would go between them if they fought," she mused quietly. "Then again... I wonder how I'd fare against him too?" she added with a slight interest.
Finally, Yuno lowered his hand, and the cyclone dissipated.
Salim crashed to the ground in a miserable heap, his grimoire tumbling beside him as pitiful groans replaced his earlier shrieks.
It was then that the match was called, and the crowd broke its quiet with a wave of praise, but Yuno didn't bask in any of it. Without a word, he returned to Asta's side, calm and collected, as if none of it had mattered.
"Oi! Girl in the armor!" A sudden shout erupted from behind Emilia.
Turning, she saw a tanned broad figure waving from the crowd. The boy pushed his way through the examinees, grinning widely as he came into view.
He was huge — tall, powerfully built, his presence casting a long shadow as he stopped before her. The sunlight caught the strands of his shaggy black hair, half-falling over one clear blue eye. Despite his size, there was something disarmingly open about his expression — more enthusiasm than intimidation.
He planted a fist to his chest and said boldly, "I challenge you, girl. Fight me!"
The other examinees reacted immediately.
"Really? He's picking a girl?" one man questioned.
"Yeah, I mean just look at him — shouldn't he fight someone of his own size, let alone a woman?" another scoffed.
The boy whipped his head toward them, his voice booming. "Oi! Don't talk like that! Women are just as capable as any man! I've seen plenty of female magic knights who could flatten you lot without breaking a sweat!"
He jabbed a finger toward the captain's stand, pointing straight at the Blue Rose captain.
"My big sis is a part of that squad and is one of their strongest—and I'm not kidding, she's flattened guys twice her size like it was nothing!"
That earned a few quite nods of approval from most of the women examinees who overheard. Though some remained skeptical of his claims.
"So? What do ya' say?" He raised a clenched fist. "Do you accept my challenge?"
"Alright then, you're on," Emilia replied, smirking faintly. "Let's see what you're made of."
The boy's grin widened into something fierce. "Heh, you talk tough for someone in armor. Don't expect me to go easy just 'cause you're a girl — my sister would beat the hell outta me if I did." He cracked his knuckles and tilted his head with a cocky grin. "So give me everything you've got, got it?"
With that, he stomped past her toward the center of the arena, practically buzzing with excitement.
"Hey! We're up next!" he called to the officiating mage, already rolling his shoulders like a boxer about to brawl.
Walking to the center, they took their positions opposite each other with the officiating mage between them. Neither blinked—each silently vowing not to lose.
After looking between them, the mage raised his arm, and after a long pause, snapped it down with a deafening cry, "Begin!"
Both grimoires burst open at once—Emilia's cold, luminous blue light clashing against his fierce, earthy orange glow.
Without hesitation, he charged straight in, stone coating his forearms like gaunlets.
"A straightforward approach, huh? This'll be too easy," Emilia thought with a smirk. In an instant, she vanished in a burst of icy light.
"What the—?! Where'd she—ARGH!!" he cried out as her shimmering blade carved a sharp line across his back.
He staggered forward, but instead of collapsing, he twisted sharply on his heel and hurled a stone-coated arm toward her head. The air screamed from the force of it—but Emilia vanished in a flash of cold light just before it could connect.
"Damn, you're fast!" he barked, teeth bared in a grin despite the pain. "But let's see you dodge this—!"
She cut him off mid-shout.
Emilia blinked to his flank, her blade already in motion, carving a sharp line across his side.
He skidded hard, boots carving gouges into the arena before he managed to catch himself.
His grimoire snapped up beside him, pages flipping violently as it pulsed with a fierce, earthy orange glow.
Emilia blinked again, intent on finishing it with her sword—but the instant she reappeared, stone swallowed his body in a thick, head-to-toe shell of hardened earth. She struck from his blind spot, driving her glowing blade into the armor—only for it to rebound with a sharp crack, cold light scattering harmlessly across the stone.
He answered immediately, swinging a brutal right hook. It was fast—unnaturally so for something wrapped in that much rock.
He retaliated immediately, twisting into a brutal right hook. Despite the heavy armor, the punch was terrifyingly fast, the air snapping as it tore toward her. Emilia blinked away at the last possible moment.
He didn't stop. With a determined roar, he sprinted forward, each step fracturing the arena floor as he charged her down. Emilia reappeared several yards away—but he was already closing the gap, the ground trembling under his relentless advance.
"Not bad," She thought with a smirk, "but let's see how his armor handles this?"
A familiar sphere of light formed in her palm—but this time, Emilia fed it directly through her grimoire. The magic swelled instantly, doubling in size as its glow intensified to a blinding brilliance. Cold radiated off it in waves, frosting the stone beneath her feet as the air itself seemed to crystallize.
Then, in a flash, it shot toward him.
Too fast to evade, it struck—detonating in an eruption of brilliant blue light and biting frost. A shockwave of icy wind tore outward, sweeping through the arena and sending a chill through everyone watching as the explosion drowned the battlefield in cold and glittering shards of frozen mana.
His body was flung backward, earthen armor cracking and crumbling with each violent tumble. He slammed into one of the thick stone columns ringing the arena, dust and frost exploding on impact. The nearly pillar split in half before he slumped forward and collapsed to the ground, out cold.
For a moment, silence hung over the battlefield—broken only by the crumbling of loose stone.
Emilia lowered her glowing hand, exhaling a thin wisp of cold breath as her grimoire returned to its carrier. "That'll do..."
"And that's a match!" the overseeing mage shouted, raising his arm high.
Healing mages rushed in immediately, lifting the unconscious boy onto a stretcher while others repaired the cracked arena floor with earth magic.
Emilia turned away and walked back next to Kazuya, who greeted her with a wide, triumphant grin.
"That was too easy," he laughed, folding his arms. "With how confident he was, I figured he'd put up more of a fight than that."
Emilia gave a light shrug as she fell in beside him. "Eh. He lasted longer than I expected—and his reaction time wasn't half bad. But let's be honest..." she glanced back toward the shattered column, "...that match was mine from the start."
The test continued for several more hours until the last match finally wrapped up. It ended in a tie, with the two contestants settling things through a game of rock–paper–scissors. Funnily enough, the idea came from the Grey Deer captain himself, who had been quite insistent on it, making the whole thing a spectacle in its own right.
Once that was finished, William Vangeance rose from his seat, his voice echoing through the arena. "That concludes the entrance examination! When your number is called, please step forward to learn your results!"
From the captains' row, Charlotte Roselei stood, her tone commanding. "If a captain wishes to have you in their squad, they will raise a hand! That means you are in," she explained. "If you do not wish to accept, you may decline! However, if more than one captain raises a hand, the choice of which squad to join will be yours!"
Then, Fuegolion Vermillion's firm voice cut through: "However, if no squad chooses you, that means you are unfit to serve as a Magic Knight!"
From his seat, the Silver Eagle captain, Nozel Silva, added coldly, "...In which case, you will leave this place at once!"
The arena fell quiet again — the weight of judgment settling heavily over every examinee.
"This is it... judgment time," Emilia thought as the first name was called.
The person stood there, looking hopefully at the captains above... but no hands went up.
Then another one took his place—still nothing.
One by one, hopeful candidates were passed over, tension mounting with each rejection. A restless murmur began to ripple through the crowd until, finally, the seventy-first examinee was chosen, a single hand rising from the stands. Proof that it was possible.
"Purple Orcas?" Emilia narrowed her eyes, her attention locking onto their captain. The man sat back with an air of casual confidence, as if the moment meant nothing to him. Something about it twisted in her gut.
"Wait..." she muttered under her breath. "I remember hearing about him back in Narin. A few years ago, there were rumors about how he suddenly came into money—a lot of it." Her mind replayed half-forgotten conversations, quiet warnings traded in taverns and marketplaces. Wealth that appeared overnight. Deals no one wanted to talk about.
Her gaze hardened as she studied him. "Funny how fast that kind of money shows up," she continued quietly. "And then there's his squad's reputation—always taking the easy missions. Low risk. High reward."
She scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter. "Cowards."
"Huh?" Kazuya leaned closer, brow furrowing. "Did you say something, Emilia?"
She didn't look away from the captain as she answered. "No. Just surprised they're the ones raising the first hand, given their reputation."
Kazuya looks to their captain, nodding. "Oh yes, I think I remember hearing something about them a while back..." His face falls. "Not very honorable knights, I've heard."
As if sensing their scrutiny, the Purple Orcas' captain turned. His eyes met theirs across the arena, sharp and calculating, his expression tightening as he realized he'd caught their full attention.
Emilia held his gaze without flinching, jaw set. Her fingers curled slowly at her side.
"It's cowards like them who sit comfortably in the capital while villages like mine burn. Bastards."
The next call drew both her and Kazuya's attention back—examinee seventy-eight.
"We'll take this one!" boomed the captain of the Crimson Lions, his hand raised proudly. Beside him, Nozel Silva of the Silver Eagles scowled, clearly irritated to be outpicked.
"That's gonna be me next! Just you watch!" Kazuya exclaimed, practically vibrating. "I hope they get to me soon—I can't stand the wait!"
Emilia smiled at his excitement, but a small worry gnawed at her. What if that noble had been right? What if Kazuya was passed over—not for lack of strength, but because of blood? Or worse... what if his reckless stunt earlier, tanking that attack head-on, made him look like a fool instead of a fighter?
She folded her arms, trying to shake the thought. "You better get chosen, Moleface... you deserve it."
After a while, the crowd of examinees thinned to just a few dozen.
When number one hundred and sixty-four was called, Yuno stepped forward—calm, focused, his hand briefly brushing the necklace at his chest before he stopped at the arena's center.
"Do we have any hands?" the announcer called out.
For a heartbeat, silence. Then—
A hand went up.
Then another.
And another.
Until every single Magic Knight captain had their hand raised.
The entire stadium fell silent, stunned.
"A-All of them?" someone gasped in shock.
"Impossible!" another shouted.
"Has that ever happened before!?" a girl asked, clutching her friend's arm.
"I guess it's not just nobles and royals who can join the Golden Dawn," a man said, half-amazed, half-incredulous.
"Wow! The Silver Eagles, too!? They all want this guy who came out of nowhere!?"
Yuno stood still for a moment before looking up. "It would be an honor to join the Golden Dawn."
The Golden Dawn captain gave a satisfied smile while several others sighed in disappointment, lowering their hands.
Emilia raised an eyebrow. "Golden Dawn, huh? I don't blame him as they're the strongest out of all of them... but I can only image how many stuck-up nobles make up its ranks. Good luck, Yuno..." She watched him step aside to join the chosen recruits, her eyes following him briefly before turning back to the officiating mage.
"Next, 165 step up!" He called out.
Asta.
He marched forward, shoulders tense, trying to mask the uncertainty on his face.
"Do we have any hands?" the overseer called out.
Seconds passed.
Nothing.
"Number 165... no hands," the announcer declared.
Emilia frowned, her chest tightening slightly, but she wasn't too surprised—but she was confused.
His fight earlier had been incredible, yet he'd failed nearly every other test.
Why?
She saw his grimoire. She saw the strange black blade and the black-and-red energy pulsing from it. So why couldn't he channel any of it into the other trials?
Whatever the reason... it had cost him dearly.
"That's... sad," Kazuya muttered, his grin fading for once. "The kid's got fight in him."
"Well, apparently not enough for them," Emilia replied, watching Asta stand alone in the center of the arena.
He didn't move. His arms hung limp at his sides, trembling. His eyes were wide, unblinking—like he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.
It wasn't long before he drew a fuss from the others.
"Come on, out of the way! I'm up next, it's over!" Someone yelled.
"Hurry up and leave! I want to get this over with!" Another added.
The voices grew harsher, louder, until they drowned out everything else.
But Asta didn't budge.
"I-I'm not done... not yet!" he shouted, his voice cracking, fists trembling so hard they shook.
And then—
"...It's no real surprise, is it?"
The deep, almost bored voice cut through the noise like a blade.
Heads turned upward. The commotion stopped.
There, standing among the captains, was Yami Sukehiro of the Black Bulls—massive, unbothered, a cigarette glowing between his lips. Smoke curled lazily around him as he stared down at Asta.
"...no matter how great your skill in battle might be, no one wants to touch a power that mysterious. People aren't fond of the unknown." His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it.
"Ain't that the truth," Emilia thought, her expression tightening. She remembered the looks, the whispers—the way people in Narin used to mock her for looking too much like a boy, and Kazuya for being from another land. Outsiders. That's all they were to most people back then.
It didn't matter how kind they were or how hard they worked; no one saw past the surface.
At least... not until they showed what they could really do. Once the villagers saw their strength—saw what they were capable of—all that ridicule turned into awe. The same people who'd be wary around them now called them the Pride of Narin.
"...It boils down to this: what the captains here are looking for is magic power, that simple."
The moment the words left Yami's mouth, his presence changed. A suffocating wave of dark mana surged outward—dense and oppressive, swallowing the entire colosseum in its shadow.
Emilia gasped as the air grew heavy around her, her knees trembling slightly beneath the crushing pressure. "Holy... It's been a long time since I've felt this."
Beside her, despite him trying to look like it's not affecting him, Emilia could see the strain. Even with his fiery willpower, the weight of Yami's mana pressed on him like a mountain.
Others weren't as lucky. Dozens of examinees buckled where they stood—some collapsing outright, others clutching their chests in panic as the invisible force bore down on them.
Then Yami moved.
He leapt from the captain's stands and landed with a thunderous crack, the ground splintering beneath his boots. Finral's voice echoed behind him in protest, but Yami ignored it as he approached Asta.
Each step he took sent tremors through the arena until he finally stopped just before Asta, exhaling a slow stream of smoke into his face. "What would anyone want with you?" he asked flatly. "A kid with zero magic..."
Asta's fists tightened at his sides, his jaw clenched. But he didn't look away.
"...You might as well face the facts, what you said before—that you took the exam because you wanna become the Wizard King..."
Sweat trickled down Asta's brow, his shoulders tense, but his eyes stayed fixed on Yami's.
"You get what that means, right?" Yami's aura flared again, shaking the air. "If that's really your goal, you'll have to prove you're stronger than all nine captains. And now, standing here magicless and pathetic... can you honestly say you have what it takes to be the Wizard King?"
The entire colosseum was silent—frozen under that overwhelming force.
Then, through gritted teeth and burning lungs, Asta spoke. "Yeah, fine... so maybe I won't get to join a Magic Knight squad today." He lifted his head, defiance blazing in his eyes. "But no matter what anyone says—and no matter how many times I might stumble—I won't give up! I will become the Wizard King!!"
The sheer conviction in his voice pierces the weight pressing down on the arena.
Emilia's mouth parted slightly, stunned. Even after all that humiliation, after being crushed under the presence of one of the most terrifying men she'd ever sensed, he still stood his ground. That fire—that refusal to break—struck something deep within her.
Kazuya exhaled shakily beside her, a grin tugging at his mouth despite the pressure weighing on him.
"He's got so much bravery in that tiny body of his," he said in awe.
Yami stared Asta down for a long moment... then, finally, the crushing pressure vanished.
It was like the whole colosseum exhaled at once.
Emilia staggered slightly, letting out a sharp breath. "Finally... I don't know how much longer I could've held out."
Beside her, Kazuya stretched his back with a loud groan. "That was intense! I need to get stronger like him—so my mana can crush people like that!"
All around them, examinees were picking themselves off the floor, gasping for air or bracing their knees. Even Yuno, usually unreadable, released a tiny sigh as the weight lifted.
Yami continued staring down at Asta... silent... unreadable.
Then—
A low chuckle escaped him. It grew and grew. Until he was roaring with laughter.
Emilia blinked, confused.
"You know, kid—" Yami jabbed a finger at Asta, grin spreading, "—I like you!"
Asta blinked. "Huh?"
The entire arena murmured in confusion. Moments ago, Yami looked ready to crush him. Now he was... praising him?
Emilia smirked knowingly. "He was testing him. Just like he tested me back then..." Her chest tightened with pride."...and now I can stand under that mana without falling to my knees."
"Quit gaping like a fish," Yami grunted. "I'm sayin' I'll let you into the Black Bulls." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "And by the way, you don't get to say no. Got it?"
Asta sputtered. "W-Whaaa—!?
"It won't be a picnic," Yami went on. "We're gonna put you through the wringer until you don't even recognize yourself." A sharp grin tugged at his mouth. "So get ready."
Asta's jaw dropped. "W-WHAAAAT!?!?"
"And then," Yami continued, voice rough but strangely warm, "once we're done, you go and become the Wizard King."
Asta froze—eyes wide, breath caught in his throat. Then, slowly... joy bloomed across his face. He raised a fist high. "Right!!"
"...Yami," Emilia murmured, unable to hide the small smile forming at her lips. "Good for you, Asta. Better make sure not to disappoint."
After a long stretch of names and disappointed sighs, the examinees dwindled to only a few dozen. The sun had begun its slow descent, bleeding warm orange across the colosseum's stone pillars. A cool evening breeze slid through the stands, carrying away the frustrated murmurs of those who had already been dismissed.
One by one, the hopefuls turned away—some silently devastated, others cursing their fate, all returning to the Forbidden Realm with nothing to show for it but exhaustion.
"...Alright! Number two-hundred and four—please step forward!" the officiating mage called.
Kazuya's entire body snapped to attention. His grin spread instantly—wide, unfiltered, hopeful. He marched toward the center with his usual bold stride, looking up at the captains as if he expected the world to open for him.
Emilia felt her chest squeeze. "This is it... Come on. Come on."
"Do we have any hands?" the mage announced.
A second passed.
No movement.
Her pulse spiked. "Please... Fuegolion..."
Then—three hands rose.
"The Coral Peacock!" the mage called out. "Aqua Deer and the Black Bulls!"
A stir ran through the leftover examinees.
But Emilia felt only the absence—the one hand that didn't rise.
Fuegolion Vermillion sat completely still, his expression unreadable as he watched Kazuya—calm, analytical, almost detached. And with every second he didn't move, Kazuya's smile wavered... then cracked... then fell.
"Damnit..." Emilia hissed under her breath.
But then—finally—Fuegolion exhaled, almost a weary sigh.
And he raised his hand, although reluctantly. The other captains noticed this and quietly commented on his hesitancy.
Yet the meaning was unmistakable.
"Another hand has raised, The Crimson Lions!" The mage announced.
At the sight of Fuegolion's raised hand, a ripple of surprise swept through the remaining examinees. Gasps, murmurs, and scattered whispers spread like sparks through dry grass.
Kazuya didn't merely smile—he burst into joy, practically bouncing in place.
Emilia smiled. He more than earned this. But even through her pride, she caught something subtle that the others missed.
Fuegolion's expression.
His hand had risen, yes—but his narrowed, assessing stare lingered on Kazuya with a hint of hesitation, as though still weighing the decision.
Kazuya, blissfully unaware, straightened his posture and bowed deeply, voice firm:
"I humbly request to join the Crimson Lions!"
With that, the other hands lowered. Kazuya turned, grinning ear-to-ear, and threw Emilia a giant wave before jogging toward the group of accepted recruits.
But halfway there, he paused. Pivoting back toward the captains' box, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted loudly
"Gomen, Captain Sukehiro Yami! Anta wa ore no daini kibō datta!"
*Sorry, Captain Yami— you were my second choice!*
Yami blinked once, exhaled smoke through his nose, and responded in the same language.
"Ki ni sunda. Suki ni shiro."
*Don't care. Do what you want.*
Then he tilted his head toward Fuegolion, adding, "Demo yo... uchi ni kita hō ga tanoshii zo. Ano kinben no ossan yori."
*Though honestly... you'd have more fun with us than that uptight old guy.*
Fuegolion's eyebrow twitched. Several captains exchanged puzzled glances—none of them recognizing the language.
The crowd erupted into whispers.
"What language is that?"
"Did the foreign kid and the Black Bulls captain just talk privately!?"
"How does he even understand him?"
But Emilia only sighed. "Idiot... Maybe it's because he's from the same place?"
Of course, she understood. After years of helping Kazuya learn the kingdom's language, she had picked up far more of his than she ever planned to.
"Next—Examinee two-oh-five, please step forward!" the mage announced.
Emilia took a steadying breath. "Alright... this is it."
She stepped into the center of the arena, every captain's gaze pressing down on her like a physical weight.
"Do we have any hands?" the mage called out.
Emilia kept her focus locked on the captains.
One hand lifted.
Then another.
And another.
Soon, they rose in a smooth, unbroken line across the entire balcony just as they had with Yuno.
And similarly, the crowd was startled.
"All of them...?" Emilia froze, breath hitching as she took in the whole row of raised hands—every captain vying for her. She knew she might get a few, but figured her appearance and status would turn others away. Yami was right, magic power was everything.
But the shock didn't last long. Emilia already knew exactly where she belonged.
Her lips curled into a confident smirk. She lifted her gaze to the captain's balcony—straight to the bored-looking man with the cigarette.
"I choose... the Black Bulls!" she announced, loud enough for every corner of the colosseum to hear.
For a split second, the world froze.
Then the entire arena erupted with a collective:
"HUUUUUH!?"
People were stunned.
"She's choosing who-!?"
"What—did I hear that right?"
"No way. Who picks them over the Golden Dawn or the Silver Eagles? She's nuts!"
"She had every hand raised! And she chose that squad!?"
One after another, people questioned her choice, but Emilia didn't give a damn. Let them think she was insane—she didn't care. Their opinions meant nothing compared to what she needed.
What mattered was simple.
She now had access to places commoners, and offlanders could scarcely imagine—foremost among them, the Imperial Archives. A vast labyrinth of knowledge guarded by royal archivists, its halls packed with centuries' worth of reports, incidents, eyewitness accounts, and heavily classified records.
If there was anything at all—any trace, any whisper—about the white-robed raiders who had destroyed her home... it would be there.
The thought stirred another memory.
I still need to ask Sebastian if he's found anything, Emilia reminded herself. He had promised to look through the records as well, to tell her if he uncovered even the smallest lead. She could still picture his surprise visit, back when she'd been deep in her training.
Her stomach tightened.
Because if the archives held nothing—if Sebastian came back empty-handed—then she would be right back where she started. No leads. No answers. The only path left would be to patrol the realm herself, chasing rumors and shadows, hoping—desperately—that she'd cross paths with someone who knew the truth.
A fool's hope, honestly. But it's better than sitting around and doing nothing.
Luckily, with the autonomy the Black Bulls give her, she'll have plenty of time to search. That's why she chose them after all, because of their loose rules and regulations. Yet she worried their infamy might cause future problems, but that was a worry for another time. Right now, she's just happy to be one step closer to her goal.
Meanwhile, the captains finally recovered from their collective shock, and they all tried—and utterly failed—to act as if Emilia's choice hadn't completely blindsided them.
Yami, naturally, was the first to break the silence.
A loud, bark-like laugh erupted from him as he leaned forward, his arm gripping the railing.
"Hahahah! You totally thought you had it in the bag!" he shouted, openly pointing at William Vangeance, whose polite composure cracked for only half a second.
Vangeance smoothed his expression back into its usual calm warmth, though there was a faint note of resignation in his voice.
"It appears she has... a special interest in your squad, Yami," he said gently. "I suppose every mage walks their own path."
"Yeah?" Yami grinned. "Guess her path just has better taste than yours."
Nozel scoffed sharply, silver hair flicking with disdain.
"A shortsighted waste of potential. Joining a den of undisciplined wretches... typical of an unpolished commoner."
Yami's grin only widened. "Aww, what's the matter, crazy-hair? You jealous?"
Nozel didn't even blink. "It'll be a cold day in hell before I grow jealous of an uncouth outsider like you."
After the decision was finalized, Emilia joined Kazuya on the sidelines, waiting for the last remnants of examinees to be called.
The guy from before—the one who had challenged her—ended up, somehow, in the Blue Roses. The entire arena went still for a moment, stunned. They never let men into that squad, and on the rare occasions they did, those poor souls were apparently treated more like maids than actual knights.
But despite that reputation, he looked more than thrilled to be chosen, practically vibrating with excitement as he jogged back toward the other accepted examinees. Emilia could respect that... though she had to admit, he seemed a little too excited about it.
After the two-hundred-thirty-fifth examinee was called, the exam finally came to a close. The mage announced for everyone to gather their belongings and report to their chosen squad captains for further instructions.
Emilia and Kazuya retrieved their things, though Kazuya struggled for a moment as the weight shifted awkwardly on his back.
Before they split off, they stopped and faced each other.
"This is it, Moleface," Emilia said, adjusting the strap of her bag. "From here on out, we'll be bona fide Magic Knights."
"Yeah..." Kazuya replied—but his voice was quieter than usual.
Emilia tilted her head, immediately catching the shift. His usual fire had dimmed, his expression uncharacteristically somber.
"Hey," she called, "we talked about this. Just because we're going our separate ways doesn't mean we're not going to see each other anymore."
"I know," he muttered, eyes lowering. "It's just... it won't be the same without you around. This time, we really are splitting up."
Her cheeks warmed. "W-We'll write to each other, Moleface! Just like I told the kids—this isn't goodbye." Her embarrassment faded, replaced by a determined smile. "This is the start of our journey, remember? This is where we prove ourselves—to the church, and to those stuffy nobles—that we can become great Magic Knights. And besides," she added firmly, "no matter how far apart we are, you're still my best friend. That's not changing. Ever. We'll keep in touch—just like we will with the kids and the nuns."
Without warning, Kazuya dropped his broom and pulled her into a crushing hug.
"E-EASY, M-MOLEFACE—!" Emilia sputtered, feet nearly leaving the ground. "Y-You'll crush me!"
"Oops—sorry!" he laughed, quickly letting go. "Guess I forgot how fragile you are compared to me! Hahaha!"
She punched his arm. "You're just a gorilla, that's all. Now go—before Captain Fuegolion changes his mind and leaves without you."
Kazuya froze. "R-Right!" He scrambled to gather his broom, then paused, turning back with a huge grin.
"I'll write to you soon, Emilia! Just you wait—my grand adventures are gonna outshine yours!"
Then, with one last wave, he took off. Notably, not using his broom.
She shook her head, smiling softly. "He'd better get over his fear soon. I doubt Captain Fuegolion is going to be very forgiving."
Emilia let out a quiet sigh and glanced down the street as the magical lamps flickered to life, their soft glow pushing back the encroaching dusk. "I should probably use the restroom real quick before I meet up with Captain Yami."
Getting ready to hop up her broom, she decided against it at the last second.
"I need to keep practicing my blinking. Even though that guy I fought wasn't anything special, I was pretty worn out with those back-to-back blinks. I need to get better at using my mana more efficiently. If I didn't have reserves, I do, I'd run out after just one..." she chastised herself before flashing away in a blink of cold blue light.
A few blinks later, Emilia reappeared just down the road from the restroom, only to stop.
Standing directly in front of the entrance were Yuno and that Sekke guy from earlier.
The tension between them was unmistakable.
Yuno's grimoire hovered open at his side, pages fluttering as a massive hawk of compressed wind circled above him, wings slicing the air. His expression was cold—angry, even—while the other man looked like he was on the verge of wetting himself.
Before Emilia could piece together what was happening, the man suddenly bolted. He sprinted past her in a panic, nearly colliding with her shoulder as he fled down the street without so much as a glance back.
Emilia blinked, staring after him.
"...What the hell did I just walk into?"
That was when the men's restroom door slammed open, and Asta stepped out looking relaxed, patting his stomach with a satisfied grin.
"Oh man, that feels SO much better!" he sighed. "Everything came out just fine—bye-bye, violet snake!"
Emilia grimaced. "I really didn't need to hear that."
Asta's eyes finally landed on her, widening instantly. "Oh, It's you!" he said in surprise as he walked over. "You're Emilia, right? I heard your friend yelling your name earlier—like, a LOT!"
She nodded once. "That's me. Nice to meet you, Asta."
He froze. "Huh—WAIT—how do you know my name!?"
She studied him for a moment, those big, earnest eyes staring back at her with zero recognition. "It makes sense he wouldn't remember me. We only met twice years ago."
"Similar to how you found out. That guy you fought—Sekke," she said. "He kept shouting it during the match."
"Oh! The 'HAAAH!' guy!?" Asta snapped his fingers. "I guess I tuned it out—I was super focused on not getting blasted!"
She laughed softly. "Yeah, no kidding. You were locked in. Honestly? It was badass. One swing and he was done—shut him up real fast."
Asta stiffened. "R-Really!?" he said, face lighting up as he rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks! I just wanted to show the captains what I could do! I mean—I trained REALLY hard, and I didn't wanna mess it up, but I didn't think he'd go down that fast!"
She smiled at the sincerity, then started past him toward the women's restroom.
"Oh! WAIT—HEY!" Asta suddenly yelped, scrambling after her. "We're in the same squad, right? We should probably go find Captain Yami ASAP! I mean, he seems kinda scary but also kinda cool but mostly scary, and I don't wanna be late on my FIRST DAY—!"
She waved him off without stopping. "Go on without me. He can wait. A girl's gotta go."
"Oh—uh—O-OKAY THEN! But maybe we shooooould—"
His voice slowed as his jaw slowly dropped and his eyes grew wide.
Emilia quirked a brow and paused, turning around. "What?"
A nervous sweat was already pouring down Asta's face as he stared past her.
Confused, she turned again, this time seeing the massive man standing there.
It was Yami Sukehiro, her new captain.
"Who's gonna wait now?" he asked in annoyance, staring daggers at the girl.
A cold sweat prickled down Emilia's spine.
"I've been lookin' all over for you idiots," he growled. "You got some nerve, newbies."
Asta shot his hand straight into the air, eyes sparkling. "OHH!! I had to go take a poo!!"
Yami's eye twitched.
"...Just how long was this dump you took, anyway?"
Man, that was the wrong question.
Asta stepped forward eagerly, fist clenched in excitement. "Captain, you wouldn't BELIEVE it! Seriously!" He stretched his hands wide. "Looooong! And HUGE too! And then—"
"ARGH!!"
Yami's hand clamped down on Asta's head, lifting him clean off the ground as the boy kicked and flailed.
"That's NOT what I meant!" Yami roared. "I don't wanna spend my damn afternoon listenin' to you describe your turds, ya moron!"
Asta squeaked something unintelligible as he dangled.
"And YOU!" Yami barked, snapping his glare toward Emilia.
She jumped like she'd been struck by lightning. "B-But I gotta go!" she whined.
"Hold it," Yami snarled. "I'm not waitin' around anymore!"
His other hand came down, gripping the top of her head just as firmly.
Emilia froze.
Every instinct screamed at her to blink away—but her body refused to listen. The pressure of his mana, the grip of his hand, the sheer presence of him rooted her in place. "Nope. Not worth dying over a bathroom break."
"Go on, Finral," Yami said, jerking his chin forward.
"Okay."" Finral replied easily, already lifting his grimoire—a pale, well-kept tome etched with elegant geometric patterns that seemed to subtly distort the space around it. The pages fluttered open, glowing with a calm silver light.
Asta's eyes went wide as he craned his neck toward it. "W-WOAH!! S-So cool!! What is that!?" he shouted, still squirming uselessly in Yami's grip.
"Obviously, you can't fly on a broom," Yami said without looking at him. "So you're gonna need some way to move around."
Then he paused.
"Oh, right," he added, grinning. "You don't have any magic power. HAHAHAHAA!!"
"HEY!! What about me!? I DO—! I mean—I CAN JUST—! If you just tell me where to go—!"
Yami squeezed even harder, nearly crushing the girl's skull.
"Shut it. It'd take too long, this is faster!"
"U-Um—Captain Yami!" Finral cut in, his voice shaking as sweat poured down his face. "This gate's really big, and holding it open this long is—uh—kind of killing me, so if you could maybe hurry—"
Yami slowly turned his head.
The look alone made Finral whimper.
Yami turned his head, giving him a death stare."It almost sounded like you were tellin' me what to do," he snarled, low and menacing, "Suck it up! Dig deep and push your limits!"
"WAHAHAHAAA!!" Finral cried in fear as he kept the portal open despite the strain.
Yami adjusted his grip on both Asta and Emilia, lifting them a little higher.
"Good timing."
"WAIT—!"
With one smooth motion, Yami hurled them forward.
"WAAAAAA—!!"
The silver light swallowed them whole.
They burst out the other side instantly.
Asta slammed face-first into the dirt with a solid thud, groaning as he sprawled out.
Emilia blinked mid-air, reappearing just before impact and landing cleanly on her feet a short distance away. She glanced back at Asta.
"...I probably should've grabbed him," she muttered, cringing at his crumbled form.
Moments later, Yami stepped through, followed by the others.
Finral sighed heavily as he moved, clutching his grimoire. "Haaah...that took everything I had..."
From the ground, Asta slowly pushed himself up, wincing as he rubbed his face. "Jeeze... that hurt," he muttered, his voice strained.
Then he looked up.
His eyes widened as the soreness vanished, replaced by pure disbelief.
Before him—and Emilia—stood the Black Bulls' hideout.
It was a towering, ramshackle structure that looked less like a proper base and more like a fortress cobbled together by sheer stubbornness.
A massive, half-ruined stone building rose from the ground at a crooked angle, its walls cracked and uneven, patched with mismatched materials as if repaired countless times without regard for appearance.
Rusted metal reinforcements jutted out in places they probably shouldn't have, and several balconies and platforms clung precariously to the exterior, supported by beams that looked one strong gust away from collapse.
The front entrance was wide and scarred, its heavy doors scratched, dented, and burned, bearing the unmistakable signs of frequent magical mishaps.
Faded symbols and graffiti littered the stonework, layered over older marks like a history of chaos carved directly into the walls.
Smoke drifted lazily from somewhere inside, accompanied by distant crashes, shouts, and what sounded suspiciously like an argument already in progress.
It didn't feel refined.
It didn't feel orderly.
But it did feel alive.
Emilia stared up at it, her expression unreadable. This wasn't like the pristine halls of the Golden Dawn or the dignified compounds she'd imagined Magic Knight squads occupying. This place felt raw—dangerous, even—like everyone inside was one bad idea away from leveling the entire structure.
Asta's mouth quickly stretched into a grin. "Alright! The Black Bulls' hideout!"
"Nice, huh? We've got a snazzy place." Yami said with a crooked grin, stepping forward with one hand on his hip as he looked up at the battered fortress.
Finral nodded along cheerfully. "Mm-hmm! Crumbling bricks and all!"
Emilia walked past them, briefly noting the pale, emo-looking man muttering under his breath as if locked in a conversation only he could hear. She stopped beside Asta and held out a hand.
He blinked, momentarily surprised by the gesture, then smiled as he took it. "Thanks." His eyes lifted again, fixed on the looming structure.
"As of today..." he muttered, clenching his fist, "...this is gonna be my place too!"
Before Emilia could react, he suddenly bolted forward.
"W–Wait!" she called, reaching out—
Too late.
Asta threw open the massive front doors and shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'M THE NEWEST MEMBER OF THIS SQUAD, STRAIGHT FROM HAGE VILLAGE, ASTAAAAAA—!!"
A roaring blast of fire erupted from inside the hideout, swallowing him whole and launching his body backward like a cannonball. He flew past Emilia and Yami, slammed into the ground several paces away, and disappeared headfirst into the dirt with a dull thud.
Silence followed.
"...Whoops," Finral remarked as he and the other stood before him, staring at the pair of legs sticking straight up from the crater.
Yami glanced back through the fading flames, a wide, feral grin spread across his face as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth.
"This is us!" he barked, sweeping an arm toward the smoking ruin that used to be the front door. "The worst of the worst Magic Knights!"
His gaze settled on them both, sharp and unmistakably pleased. "Welcome to the Black Bulls!"
Emilia stood there, staring at the scorched stone, the lingering heat warping the air, and Asta's legs still twitching faintly from the ground.
Her eye twitched.
"I knew about their reputation," she thought, a dull pressure already forming behind her temples, "but this... this is something else entirely."
And yet—despite the chaos, the noise, the utter lack of normalcy—a small spark of excitement flickered in her chest...This was going to be interesting.