EndGame: The Successor's Legacy-Chapter 39: The Entrance Exam-3

The candidates had been divided and led into multiple arenas. Stone walls rose high around Calix, runes faintly glowing along their surface.

He stood still, hood low, eyes scanning the surroundings. After a brief moment, he realized something unexpected.

Apparently...None of them were here. The main cast wasn’t in the same arena as him. Only unfamiliar faces filled with nervousness and confidence were there.

’Good? I guess.’ Calix thought.

Then, the gates of the arena shut.

The sound echoing through the arena like a verdict. At the same instant, a subtle but unmistakable pressure descended from above. It wasn’t crushing, but it was absolute like the air itself had grown heavier.

Calix’s eyes narrowed. ’She’s here.’ He thought and slowly he looked up. Around him, the other candidates did the same.

Eye’s split wide open, as mouths fell agape. Almost, all of them had forgot to breathe. They all saw her.

Standing, confidently into the sky like she owned it.

Long white hair flowed down her back like living winter, strands drifting as if snow itself followed her presence. Twin orbs of frosty gray gazed down upon the arenas calm, detached, and terrifyingly sharp.

Her attire was simple yet overwhelming a crisp white suit lined with subtle crimson strips, immaculate and flawless.

Her hands rested casually in her pockets as she floated there, as if gravity itself was something very optional.

Looking down at the world.

Power radiated from her not loudly, not violently—but instinctively. Every student felt it deep in their bones, an undeniable truth that made their spines cold.

They were in the presence of an truly uncomprehensible being.

Whispers spread through the arenas, though no one dared raise their voice.

"The Vice-Headmaster..."

"The Youngest Supreme..."

"...She’s real..."

"So beautiful..."

They were all in the presence of the Youngest Supreme any race had ever seen.

Zyraelle Whitmore was here

She glanced over the candidates with mild interest, her expression unreadable. Taking a good look at them she spoke after a moment.

Her voice was calm, as it was effortlessly carried across every arena.

"Welcome to the combat exam," she said. "Before we really start the main exam, let’s lessen the number a bit shall we."

Snap.

The pressure intensified.

It steadily rose, like an invisible hand tightening its grip around every candidate’s body. The ground beneath Calix’s feet cracked as his boots sank deeper into the stone. His knees trembled, muscles screaming as they fought to keep him upright.

Around him....

Candidates collapsed one after another. Some dropping instantly, eyes rolling back as their bodies slammed face-first into the arena floor.

While some other tried to resist, veins bulging, teeth clenched—only to lose consciousness moments later, their strength failing them mercilessly.

A few weren’t even given that mercy.

Those who had been staring up at the sky when the pressure descended felt it snap down on their necks. Their bodies stiffened before going limp, falling like broken dolls.

Of course, they weren’t dead.

Calix swallowed hard.

"What a nasty way to remove the weak," he muttered under his breath, forcing air into his lungs.

He already knew the pressure on everyone wasn’t equal.

Some candidates nearby were barely trembling, faces red but stable. Others, clearly stronger on paper, were already on their knees, eyes glassy and unfocused.

The pressure was tailored. Adjusted to each individual’s rank, their limits, their hidden reserves.

Those with higher ceilings were being crushed harder.

Calix felt it clearly.

This wasn’t the pressure he had felt when Zyraelle first appeared. This was sharper more dangerous.

As if something was measuring him and then pushing just a little more.

His breath came out slow and controlled. He let his mana circulate naturally, reinforcing muscles, stabilizing his stance.

’Don’t fight it, just ensure it.’ he thought.

Seconds dragged on like minutes. Sweat rolled down his temple, slipping beneath his hood. His vision darkened slightly at the edges, a dull ringing filling his ears.

Somewhere to his left, a candidate screamed before collapsing.

One minute had passed. Half the arena was already down.

Calix’s legs shook violently now, cracks spreading further beneath him. His shoulders felt like mountains had been stacked on top of them, spine grinding under the weight.

Yet, his thoughts wondered.

How weak.

A mocking voice spoke in his head, as he found himself remembering something that he didn’t really want to.

He remembered the chamber, he remembered the dungeon. In both place that were as different as they could be, they both shared one similarity.

His helplessness...

Both of them had made Calix realise how utterly feeble he was...think about it, if Zyraelle wants she could snap him in half without even raised her finger.

It was the same with the Knight and the Unknown Being. They had almost killed him, if not for his luck and system’s restraints.

He felt bitter. He didn’t like the feeling of being weak.

’Ah, i need to try harder.’ The thought stoned in his mind and heart as he vowed to train even harder.

100 seconds had passed.

His teeth grounded together as the final seconds crawled past, every heartbeat pounding like a war drum in his ears.

Then, instantly the pressure vanished.

Calix staggered forward half a step, catching himself before he fell. Around him, the remaining candidates were gasping for air as if drowning victims pulled back to shore..

However they didn’t get much time as, a soft hum filled all of the arena’s. Light enveloped those still conscious.

And in the next heartbeat they all vanished.

Teleportation took them away, leaving behind only fallen bodies and shattered stone. As Calix disappeared with the others, one thought echoed clearly in his mind.

’So this is the Academy.’

******

Calix’s eye’s snapped open. For a split second, he thought he was still unconscious—because the sky above him was unfamiliar, framed by towering branches instead of stone walls or runes.

Then the smell hit him. The smell of a forest.

He pushed himself upright, senses sharpening instantly. Tall trees surrounded him on all sides, their trunks thick and ancient, roots twisting across the ground like sleeping serpents.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy in broken shards, painting the forest floor in shifting gold and shadow.

[Attention Every Candidate....]