Proctor Holmes stood at the threshold of the Valerian Royal Academy gates, a familiar and imposing figure returning to his post to administer his duty. His presence served as a silent anchor for the academy's prestige, embodying the role of the fair and impartial examiner for a new generation of aspirants.
He offered a measured nod toward the private spectator booth, acknowledging the formidable assembly of the Empire's elite. Seated within the high-security enclosure were the members of the Imperial family and Ambassador Lee, but the true center of gravity was Markus's team. Rosanne, Mika, Jessica, and Donna had been granted this rare seat of honor as a direct result of their contributions over the past eight months, during which they had served as the primary instruments in Princess Rosalind's intensive training regimen.
Markus sat at the forefront of the booth, his 80-point Perception effortlessly processing the thousands of mana signatures below while his mind remained anchored in the initial, jagged fractals of the Law of Time.
A resonant, ethereal voice echoed within the vast expanses of Markus's consciousness, delivering a cryptic directive.
[My Child, time is elusive. To glimpse the currents of that vast river, you will need an anchor—a conduit to steady your mind against the infinite.]
Following the prompt of this internal guide, Markus recalled an artifact he had long neglected; buried deep within a corner of his inventory sat the ancient tome he had collected years prior. As he retrieved the book, its title—"Time, an Eternal Construct"—shimmered with a faint, rhythmic light, serving as the primary anchor for his journey into the fourth dimension.
With a subtle shift in the spatial fabric of the booth, Markus slipped his hand into his sub-spatial inventory.
His fingers closed around the ancient, leather-bound tome. As he withdrew it into the quiet air of the spectator box, the gold-leaf title caught the ambient light: [Time, an Eternal Construct].
A faint, translucent system prompt flickered across his vision, its previous restriction now dissolved by his recent ascension:
[Law of Space: 100% — Condition Met]
[Initiating Temporal Synchronization]
The shimmering spatial folds that had bound the book for years finally loosened, dissolving into the vacuum as the seal was broken. As the cover unsealed, the dormant energy within "Time, an Eternal Construct" surged forth, revealing its ancient mysteries to Markus for the first time.
Satisfied with the initial resonance, Markus snapped the book shut, the sound echoing like a muffled heartbeat against the temporal distortion.
With a practiced flick of his wrist, he consigned the artifact back into the depths of his spatial inventory. The unsealed mysteries would wait; he had no intention of unraveling the foundational laws of the fourth dimension in a room filled with the Empire's most observant eyes.
"Before we begin, let's raise the stakes!" Proctor Holmes declared, his voice booming across the grounds as a massive holographic display flickered to life. The top historical records for the Trial of Perseverance illuminated the square, casting a competitive glow over the assembled hopefuls.
**
Trial of Perseverance
Markus Blackwell 4 minutes 13 seconds
Caspian Valerian 5 minutes 52 seconds
Rosanne Vance 6 minutes 33 seconds
Felix Valerian 6 minutes 47seconds
Cassian Valerian 7 minutes 2 seconds
Beatrix Valerian 7 minutes 28 seconds
Elara Valerian 7 minutes 59 seconds
Alaric Ironwood 8 minutes 30 seconds
Morgana Mordred 9 minutes 8 seconds
Elena Quartz 9 minutes 11 seconds
**
The leaderboard had remained an immovable wall for the past two years, with not a single student managing to break into the top ten.
Within that elite list, Markus and Rosanne stood out as the two modern anomalies—shattering expectations and disrupting the long-standing dominance of the Imperial bloodline when they participated.
The crowd fell into a hushed murmur as they stared at the gap between first and second place.
From the private booth, Rosanne glanced at the board, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips. She knew better than anyone that the records were not just numbers—they were the benchmarks of the new world Markus was building.
"Rosalind may very well break the record I've set," Markus murmured, his voice carrying a quiet weight that instantly drew the attention of the Imperial family and Ambassador Lee.
A tide of eager students surged toward the Academy gates, their faces a mask of grit and ambition. For many, the trials were more than an entrance exam; they were a public stage where they intended to immortalize their names before the spectators and the watchful, hopeful eyes of the families standing behind them.
While the frantic tide of hopefuls surged forward to claim their place at the gates, Rosalind and the Eastern exchange students remained at the rear, anchored by a shared, patient discipline. They felt no need to battle the crowd for mere placement; for candidates of their caliber, the only ranking that held any significance was the struggle to breach the Top 10 positions.
The massive gates of the Valerian Royal Academy groaned on their hinges, parting slowly to reveal the hallowed grounds where the empire's future would be forged. With a sharp, resonant command that cut through the city's clamor, Proctor Holmes officially declared the commencement of the trials for the year 2175.
The first wave of aspirants surged through the gates with a roar of ambition, only to have their momentum instantly crushed. As their boots struck the first of the thousand steps leading into the Academy's heart, the hidden Gravity Formations etched into the stone flared to life, snaring them in an invisible, suffocating weight.
The stronger participants began their ascent with deliberate, measured strides, recognizing that the initial pressure was merely the opening gambit of an arduous gauntlet.
Avoiding the frantic desperation of the first wave, they focused on the rhythmic circulation of their mana to offset the crushing weight, understanding that success required the absolute conservation of stamina and internal strength to endure the thousand-step climb.
"We'll see you at the summit, Princess," one of the Eastern students remarked with a respectful but challenging glint in his eyes. With that, the exchange group moved as a single, disciplined unit, crossing the Academy threshold to begin their ascent.