The arena settled into a tense silence as two figures stepped toward the center. Murmurs spread immediately through the crowd.
"…That's the guy who didn't do anything in the last tests."
"…And the other one—that's the fourleaf clover…"
"…Is he serious? He's going against him?"
Eyes shifted between them, curiosity and doubt mixing in equal measure. At the center, Asta stopped. Opposite him, Yuno stood calm, his posture relaxed, but his presence sharp. No signal was needed. The moment stretched, then broke.
Yuno moved first. A gust formed instantly at his side, compressing and shaping into a sharp construct before launching forward. A hawk of wind cut through the air, fast and precise, its form stable despite its speed. Asta didn't step back. His sword moved in one clean swing, and the hawk split in half, dispersing into nothing before it could reach him.
A brief shift ran through the crowd.
"…He cut it?"
"…That fast?"
Yuno's expression didn't change, but the air around him moved again. Multiple hawks formed at once, not from a single direction but from all sides. They surged forward, curving midair and adjusting their paths to converge on Asta from every angle. Asta moved—not wildly, not rushing. He stepped through the gaps, his sword moving with sharp, controlled precision. One hawk split, then another, the magic dispersing the moment it met the blade. Others he avoided entirely, slipping past them with minimal motion while continuing to move forward.
The pressure built steadily.
"…He's moving through them…"
"…What kind of control is that?"
Above them, the captains watched closely. Fuegoleon Vermillion narrowed his gaze slightly.
"That blade… it isn't cutting through magic. It's nullifying it."
Beside him, Yami Sukehiro exhaled faintly, eyes fixed on Asta.
"…Told you. No mana, but look at that movement. Kid didn't get that by sitting around."
Yuno adjusted, the wind gathering again—this time heavier, tighter, controlled. A vortex formed and surged forward, a pure current of wind twisting as it expanded, pulling at the air as it closed the distance. Asta didn't rush. He planted his footing and watched it approach, the pull increasing as it threatened to drag him off balance. Only when it entered his range did he move, stepping in and cutting in a single motion. The vortex split and collapsed instantly as the magic was erased.
But that was the setup—to keep Asta in place. Yuno's hand was already pressed to the ground, a surge of wind magic flowing through it, building beneath the surface as the tornado held its momentum
The moment the vortex broke, the ground beneath him burst.
A wave of force shot outward, cracking the surface and tearing through the earth as chunks of stone lifted into the air. The arena fractured, loose rock rising for a brief moment before the wind caught it. A second vortex formed immediately, this time pulling the debris into its rotation, shaping it into a dense cyclone of stone and wind that surged forward with far greater weight.
Asta saw it and understood in the same instant. The first attack hadn't been meant to hit—it had been meant to hold him in place, to control the timing of what came next.
Wind alone wouldn't work, so something else had been added—something that wouldn't simply disappear. The cyclone closed in.
Asta moved. The sword cut through the wind again, disrupting the structure, but the stones remained. They broke free and fell fast. He stepped in instead of back, tightening his grip as antimagic gathered along the edge of his blade, compressing and sharpening it. His next swing split the incoming stone cleanly, then another, then another, carving a path forward. Fragments struck him as he advanced—one scraping across his shoulder, another hitting his side—but his movement didn't slow.
He didn't stop.
Yuno slid back, wind wrapping around his legs and back before bursting outward, pushing him across the arena and widening the distance instantly. The moment space opened, the air twisted again. Two massive tornadoes rose between them, not rushing forward but standing as a barrier, rotating with heavy force while pulling in larger chunks of debris.
Asta kept moving straight toward them.
Then he stopped.
In a single motion, he drove the sword into the ground. The response came immediately as antimagic surged from the blade and spread outward in a circular wave across the surface, tearing through the base of the tornadoes and disrupting their foundation.
The rotating currents faltered and collapsed as their base gave way, the wind scattering as the pull vanished entirely.
Yuno's footing broke with it. The magic supporting his movement cut out instantly, and his balance slipped for a brief moment.
That was enough.
Asta moved.
He crossed the distance at full speed, ignoring the last of the falling debris as he closed in. The blade rose and stopped cleanly at Yuno's neck.
Silence fell.
Dust settled. Fragments dropped around them. For a brief moment, nothing moved.
Yuno looked at him.
Then a small smile formed.
"I was off balance. Try that again next time."
Asta's breathing steadied, his grip firm but controlled.
"It wasn't easy."
Yuno's gaze remained sharp.
"…Same."
The moment passed, but something had changed.
Around them, the silence broke.
"…He got through…"
"…Against the fourleaf…?
"…What even is that sword…?"
The silence slowly gave way to motion as other matches resumed across the arena, spells colliding and dispersing in scattered bursts. A few candidates still fought, but the focus had already shifted. What had just happened at the center lingered.
Off to the side, Seke watched, his usual confidence nowhere to be seen. His gaze stayed fixed on Asta for a moment longer before he looked away slightly.
"…Good thing I didn't push that."
After a short while, the remaining matches were called to a stop.
William Vangeance stepped forward once more, his voice carrying across the arena.
"The examination ends here."
A brief pause.
"We will now begin the selection."
Number were called one by one.
Some candidates received no response at all, their names fading into silence. Others had a single captain raise a hand, stepping forward to claim them. The pace remained steady, the tension building with each call.
Then Yuno's number was called.
A brief pause followed after the number was announced, just enough for it to settle across the arena.
Then hands rose.
All captains.
No hesitation.
His performance had spoken clearly—control, power, precision. Even in that final exchange, there had been no doubt about his ability.
Yuno didn't look around for long.
His decision was immediate.
Golden Dawn
The selection moved on.
"Asta… number 161."
Then every captain raised their hand.
Not one.
Not several.
All of them.
The shift in the arena was immediate. It wasn't loud—but it was undeniable. The meaning was clear without needing to be spoken.
Asta's gaze moved slightly.
…All of them?
It wasn't shock.
But it wasn't expected either.
No words were exchanged between the captains.
They didn't need to be.
Asta made his choice.
Black Bulls
A low chuckle came from the side.
Yami Sukehiro stepped forward slightly, one hand resting against his shoulder.
"Oi."
Asta glanced toward him.
"You joining or planning to stand there all day?"
Asta didn't answer immediately.
He turned slightly instead.
Yuno stood a short distance away.
A brief pause.
"We'll see next time," Asta said.
Yuno nodded once.
"Yeah."
That was enough.
"Oi, brat," Yami called again, already turning away. "Don't make me wait."
Before Asta could respond—
space twisted.
Finral Roulacase stepped forward, a portal opening beside him with a casual motion.
"Right this way~"
Asta stepped forward.
The arena faded behind him as he crossed through.
The next stage had already begun.