The training grounds of Elixir High were built for battle. A vast arena, enchanted to repair itself after each fight. Towering stone walls surrounded the field, lined with stands where students watched eagerly. The air buzzed with excitement.

  Today was the first test battle.

  Alden stood at the center, arms crossed, his cold gaze sweeping over us. “Magic is not just theory,” he declared. “You must prove yourselves in combat. Today, you will fight.”

  He lifted a hand, and the ground beneath us trembled. Blue runes lit up, forming a massive spell circle.

  “Rules are simple. Knock your opponent out of the ring, force them to surrender, or incapacitate them. However,” Alden’s icy eyes sharpened, “no fatal attacks.”

  The moment he finished speaking, the battle began.

  Explosions of magic erupted across the field. Fireballs, wind blades, ice spears—spells clashed in a chaotic storm.

  I didn’t move.

  I wasn’t like them. I had no magic.

  But I had my sword.

  A student lunged at me—B-rank, fire affinity. He swung his blazing staff down, aiming for my shoulder.

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  I dodged. My movements were faster than his. Too fast. I twisted to the side, my wooden training sword striking his wrist.

  CRACK.

  His staff flew from his hand. A second later, I kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling out of bounds.

  One down.

  A wind-user rushed in, their arms glowing with swirling currents. “You’re just a swordsman! How long can you last?”

  I ducked under their first attack, feeling the wind whip past my face. They were fast. But I was faster.

  I moved with precision, closing the distance between us in an instant. My sword struck the side of their ribs—a clean hit.

  They staggered, and I spun, delivering a second blow to their knee. They collapsed.

  Another elimination.

  More students noticed.

  I could hear them whispering.

  “How is he beating them without magic?”

  “Is this why he got in?”

  “He’s a monster with a sword.”

  Then I heard it—

  “Everyone! Get him first!”

  I turned my head.

  A group of five students—A and B-rank mages—rushed toward me at once.

  Fire, lightning, wind, ice—they all attacked together.

  I had no magic. No spells to block their attacks. No way to counter magic with magic.

  I was outnumbered.

  For the first time, I felt something close to desperation.

  The air thickened.

  The pressure around me shifted.

  Something deep inside me stirred.

  A distant voice— powerful, ancient.

  "You are not weak."

  BOOM.

  Everything exploded.

  A wave of black mist erupted from my body. Shadows stretched across the field, swallowing the light. The world blurred.

  Pain shot through my skull—memories. Fragments of a past I had long forgotten.

  My hair, once a dull brown, darkened to jet black.

  Dark tendrils of energy coiled around my arms, crackling with untamed power. The students attacking me were blasted backward, their bodies flung across the arena.

  Even Alden stepped back.

  The entire battlefield fell silent.

  I looked down at my hands, my breath ragged.

  This energy… I knew it.

  Darkness. Pure dark mana.

  One of the three rarest affinities.

  Alden’s eyes narrowed, his icy aura rising. For the first time, I saw hesitation in his gaze.

  “You… You’ve awakened Dark Magic.”

  The words hung in the air, sending a wave of shock through the audience.

  Dark. Light. Space.

  The three rarest affinities.

  And I had just awakened one.

  I clenched my fist. The shadows pulsed, responding to my will.

  This power—

  It had always been mine.