Hearing the word Kavalon made Ryan angry every time.
But he noticed that after the principal's announcement, some faces turned pale and he heard faint murmurs from the students.
But hearing her words afterwards made some of them turn even paler.
"And three years from now, you will face the Academy of Doraval. A kingdom with which we have good relations, but competitions know no friendship. There, you will test your strength against a different opponent, fierce in its own way."
She looked at the front rows, then to the back.
"And for those who survive those two trials, there is something greater. After five years, the academies of the five kingdoms will gather in an event unprecedented in decades. There, you will fight the best the continent has to offer. There, each of you will represent not only yourselves, but your kingdom."
She paused for a moment, then added:
"The weak have no place in those competitions. The weak are eliminated before they even begin. So be strong. Or be nothing."
She finished. The hall did not applaud. Everyone was busy digesting what had been said.
After that The Director stepped down from the podium.
After the Director left, a young man climbed the podium.
He was about sixteen. Tall, with light brown hair carefully styled, and light blue eyes like a spring sky. He wore the Academy's formal uniform, but the robe was made of finer fabric, and the buttons were gold instead of silver. On his chest, besides the Academy badge, was the royal family crest.
whispered a student behind Rayan.
"Prince Alin Rivan."
Of course, he saw the royal family's crest, so he knew immediately that he was a member of the royal family.
Prince Alin stood behind the podium and looked at the students with a warm but measured smile.
"Honoured teachers, fellow students."
He began in a soft, smooth voice, as if addressing friends rather than a vast audience.
"Before I say anything else, let me be honest with you. I am not here because I have to be. I am here because I want to be. Just like you. I came to learn, to train, to prove that a title does not make a person; his actions do."
He smiled.
"Many of you are scared now. Scared of the unknown, of failure, of being at the bottom. Let me tell you a secret: no one starts strong. Strength comes with time. Comes with mistakes. Comes with falling again and again."
He looked towards the back rows and gave a slight nod.
"The Academy is not just a place for fighting. It is a place to build relationships, to learn cooperation, to understand that true power is not in isolation, but in unity. When you fight alone, you are weak. When you fight as a team, you become more dangerous than you can imagine."
His voice rose slightly.
"In one year, Kavalon. In three years, Doraval. Different opponents, different challenges. But the goal is the same: to prove that you are the best."
He smiled one last time.
"I don't ask you to be perfect. I only ask you to try. Every day. Every lecture. Every fight. Try. Make mistakes. Learn. Then try again."
He stepped down to warm applause.
Ryan also applauded, even though the prince's words hadn't even excited him, but he didn't want to be the only one who didn't applaud the prince.
But from what he saw, it seems that this prince was very popular.
But then, after the applause, another person came on stage, making everyone nervous.
Ryan raised an eyebrow.
'Is it a royal celebration day?'
He was twenty‑nine years old. Tall, powerfully built, with long black hair falling over his shoulders. His eyes were deep grey, reflecting years of combat. His face was stern, carved with real scars – a thin scar from his left eyebrow to his cheek, another on his chin.
He climbed the podium slowly, as if ascending a rugged hill. He didn't smile. He didn't speak a single word at first. He just stood and looked at the crowd.
He was his sister's husband.
After learning that his sister was getting married, he asked Anna about the princes and discovered that the oldest among them was the first prince, who was twenty-nine years old. Therefore, he assumed he was his sister's husband, since they were the same age.
Complete silence fell.
Then he spoke.
His voice was low, rough, as if used in battlefields more than in halls.
"Students of the Royal Academy."
"I am not here to welcome you. The Academy is not a place for welcome. It is a place for survival. Survival alone."
He paused. Blinked his eyes slowly.
"Many of you are here because your parents paid. Many because they are talented. Few are here because they had to be. Those few are the ones who will survive. The rest..."
He gestured to the door behind him.
"...will find their way out sooner or later."
He didn't raise his voice. But his words were heavier than any scream.
"The elements are not a game. Not a magic trick. The elements are weapons. Weapons that kill. Weapons that destroy. Weapons that burn cities and erase families from existence. If you are not ready to use them seriously, if you think the Academy is just a stop..."
He paused. Let the emptiness fill the hall.
"Leave now. I won't say it twice."
Dead silence. No one moved.
"In one year, Kavalon. They will be hungry. They will be ready to humiliate you. Don't let them."
He looked at the back rows.
"In three years, Doraval. Do not be fooled by our good relations with them. On the battlefield, friendships do not exist."
His voice became even colder.
"And in five years, the competition of the five kingdoms. The whole world will watch. Kings, leaders, even ordinary people. Failure there is not an option."
He paused for a moment, then added in a quieter but even more dangerous voice:
"I do not ask you to win. I ask you not to lose in a way that shames your kingdom."
His words were not followed by applause. It was as if everyone was afraid to breathe.
Then he turned and stepped down from the podium without saying "thank you" or "farewell". His steps were heavy.
Nothing remained of the ceremony but faint murmurs.