The Golem Mage

Eventually, most of the groups had appeared, including several academies that the citizens of the Northern Kingdom had never seen before, each academy showcased unique styles, cultures, and weapons some so foreign that they are considered rare in the Northern Kingdom however it seemed like common gear to these foreign geniuses from the other four kingdoms.

But soon, the excitement began to fade as fewer and fewer groups appeared, signalling that the arrivals were nearing their end.

Just when everyone thought it was over, a purple spatial door materialized in the center of the arena, drawing all eyes toward it, the crowd murmured in anticipation, wondering which academy would emerge next.

Citizens of the capital tried to recall if there were still any Northern academies left unannounced, while visitors from other kingdoms mentally listed which guilds, sects, or ancient clans hadn’t yet shown up.

Then the first figure stepped out and the entire arena fell silent, for those from the other kingdoms, the silence came from confusion, the academy insignia on the boy’s kimono was unfamiliar, its design was unlike any they had seen before.

They turned to one another for answers, only to find the same look of confusion mirrored on every face.

That was when they realized, the silence that came from the capital’s citizens themselves was different.

It was a chilling, heavy and the quietness blanketed the whole crowd as they recognized who these mages were, the newcomers belonged to an academy from the Northern Kingdom.

What baffled them, however, was the reaction of the capital’s own people, even they seemed stunned to see these mages stepping out of the spatial gate.

And truly, who could blame them? After the chaos of the last inter-academy competition, most believed the War God Mage Academy would never again be allowed to stand in the spotlight, especially not under the royal clan’s watch.

Right before everyone’s eyes stood the unmistakable figure of Alec Gordons, the mage many had hailed as the strongest contender from the last northern inter-academy competition.

Alec lifted his head, his expression calm and unreadable, while the other academies stared curiously at the new arrivals, puzzled by the eerie silence that greeted them. For a brief moment, it seemed as if the crowd had forgotten how to breathe.

Then Alec’s lips curved into a small smile as his voice echoed through the arena.

“It’s nice to be here again. Northern Capital, the War God Mages greet you.”

Like a spark hitting dry tinder, the entire crowd outside the viewing screen erupted into deafening cheers.

Cries of “Golem Prince!” and “Ice-Cold Marionette Beauty!” filled the air, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

The number of people cheering might have been the same as usual, but the intensity and the passion was beyond anything any other team had received, the War God Mage Academy represented defiance and hope, the belief that even the underestimated could rise above the great.

They were the academy everyone had dismissed, yet they had proven that strength was not reserved for the so-called Great Eight academies alone.

Though stripped of their champion title, it didn’t change the truth, and the people still loved them.

Even some nobles couldn’t help but clap, as their pride overridden by reason, whether they liked it or not, the kingdom needed its strongest squad to stand a chance in the competition, and everyone knew that the Northern Kingdom strength wouldn’t be complete without the War God Mage Academy in the fray.

Without wasting time, the Dean and Old Man Alderic began leading the team toward their seats, as the group levitated gracefully through the air, every eye in the arena tracking them.

Their uniforms black with crimson-rimmed edges, it gleamed under the light, with each member proudly displaying a student badge that marked their rank.

The War God Mages had arrived, and the capital couldn’t look away.

While waiting, Alec and his team exchanged glances with many familiar faces from past encounters, and a few new ones that immediately caught their attention.

Among them were elites from the Central Kingdom, such as the Blades Clan, warriors said to be blessed with weapon mastery from birth; the Axis Arcanum Academy, famous for fusing multiple elemental affinities and creating new hybrid spells; and the Shaolin Temple Academy, a martial-spiritual institute that taught perfect harmony between body and mana. Its students, through relentless physical discipline and meditation, learned to channel elemental energy through motion, turning their very bodies into vessels of magic.

Only the hosting kingdom was granted a vast share of the arena, this was another privilege the King of the Central Kingdom had fought hard to secure but lost.

The Eastern Kingdom’s delegation included the School of Silent Blades, an academy of assassins and shadow ninjas; the Crimson Dawn Academy, where mages trained in the path of slaughter and blood magic; and Shinsei Academy, dedicated to the art of spirit binding.

From the Western Kingdom came the Arcanis Dominion, masters of runes and arcane structures; Solarium Sanctum, an academy of light magic with branches in divine restoration and holy flames; and the Argent Guild, a massive citadel that accepted all disciplines and doubled as a mercenary institution, sending its students out into the world to gain real combat experience.

Representing the Southern Kingdom were the Ashmaw Academy, renowned for its bloodline tamers and beast masters, and the Ember Citadel, home of the fiercest battle mages, with elemental and crafting paths as secondary disciplines.

After scanning the competition, Alec’s group quickly realized that this tournament would be far more challenging than any before, the sheer diversity of schools, each carrying their own unique specialization, made the air thrum with tension and expectation.

Then a booming voice echoed from the third level, where the VIPs were seated.

“I believe everyone is here already!”

The War God Mage team instinctively looked up and their expressions hardened, because standing above them in the third level was none other than the young King of the Northern Kingdom himself.

Beside him stood the man who just spoke and he looked to be in his early forties, yet the aura surrounding him spoke of a much older, far more ancient being.

“If anyone isn’t here by now, it means that individual or their entire team has been automatically disqualified,” the man announced, his voice calm but absolute.

A ripple of murmurs spread through the arena as students and spectators alike glanced around, trying to see who might be missing, the man waited about fifteen seconds, letting the tension settle, before casually waving his hand.

In an instant, dozens of round metallic badges shot through the air like streaks of light, each landing perfectly in front of participating mages.

Alec, like everyone else, instinctively reached out his hand and caught one, the badge was warm to the touch, pulsing faintly with mana as if alive.

“The first round begins now,” the mage declared, offering no further explanation.

Confused whispers and exclamations broke out among the students, until a sudden, overwhelming suction force pulled at their bodies.

In neat rows, mages began lifting off the ground, drawn upward by an unseen energy, one after another, they vanished mid-air before reaching the shimmering barrier that had appeared above the arena.

Alec’s eyes widened as realization struck.

‘So that’s it... the capital isn’t the battlefield—this entire arena is just the gateway.’

Before he could steady himself, a beam of light enveloped his body, the pull was too strong to resist, and within seconds,

Alec was lifted off his feet and swallowed by the blinding glow.