The morning air buzzed with anticipation as the Tournament of Five drew closer. The Academy courtyard was alive with chatter, the hum of magic, and the clash of practice duels echoing in the background. It wasn’t just children here—adults, veterans, and even renowned fighters had arrived to stake their claim in this prestigious event. Some sought the honor of entering the Academy, while others were here for the glory, the challenge, or the promise of wealth. But none of that mattered to me at the moment.

"Imperial lapdog," someone called out mockingly. The sneer in the voice made my stomach tighten. I turned to see a boy around my age striding toward me, his eyes sharp and his grin sharper. His posture was casual, but the way his fingers tapped the hilt of his sword suggested he was itching for a fight.

"You’re Shin, right? Son of Emperor Silat?" His voice carried loud enough for nearby competitors to stop what they were doing and turn to watch. "I’ve heard all about you. Training from the best, getting every advantage because of who your father is. Must be nice."

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze. "I don’t know who you are, but if you think being the emperor’s son makes things easier, you’re wrong."

He scoffed, his grin widening. "Oh, spare me the humble act. You think anyone here doesn’t see you as the favorite? Or are you pretending that all the eyes on you aren’t because of your last name?"

Speed appeared at my side before I could respond, her presence like a protective whirlwind. "And who are you supposed to be?" she asked, tilting her head with a mocking smile. "Another wannabe with a chip on his shoulder?"

The boy’s grin faltered for a split second before he straightened. "Name’s Rylan. And unlike some people, I’ve earned my spot here."

"Rylan," Speed repeated, her grin widening. "Can’t say I’ve heard of you. Must’ve been a pretty small rock you crawled out from under."

Rylan’s face darkened, but he quickly regained his composure. "We’ll see who the real contender is in the tournament," he said, pointing at me. "Unless you’re too scared to show me what you’ve got."

Lady joined us, her voice calm but laced with steel. "That’s enough. This tournament isn’t about personal grudges. If you want to prove yourself, do it on the field."

Rylan smirked, his gaze still locked on mine. "Oh, I plan to. Just don’t disappoint me, Prince Shin."

He turned and walked away, leaving a trail of tension in his wake. The crowd began to disperse, but the weight of their stares lingered.

"Don’t let him get in your head," Lady said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "People like him are always looking for someone to blame for their own insecurities."

"He’s not wrong, though," I muttered. "Everyone sees me as the emperor’s son first."

Speed crouched to meet my eye level, her expression uncharacteristically serious. "Listen, kid. Being Silat’s son doesn’t make you any less of a fighter. You’ve worked harder than most people here, and anyone who thinks otherwise can eat their words."

I nodded, though the knot in my chest didn’t loosen. This tournament wasn’t just about proving myself to others—it was about proving something to myself.

When the first day of the tournament finally arrived, the arena was packed with spectators. Rows of enchanted banners floated in the air, shifting to display the names of competitors as their matches were announced. The atmosphere crackled with energy, a mix of magic and adrenaline filling the air.

The announcer’s voice boomed across the stadium. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Tournament of Five! Today, you will witness battles of skill, power, and resilience as competitors from all walks of life vie for their place in the Academy of Five Stars!"

From my spot near the competitors’ entrance, I scanned the field. Fighters of all kinds prepared for their matches—warriors in gleaming armor, mages cloaked in shimmering robes, and even a few rogue types with sly grins and quick movements. The sheer variety of magic and combat styles was mesmerizing.

"You ready?" Speed asked, nudging my shoulder.

"As ready as I’ll ever be," I replied, tightening the straps on my gauntlets.

The announcer called the first round, and two competitors stepped into the arena to cheers and applause. One was a muscular man wielding a flaming warhammer; the other, a petite woman who wielded dual daggers that gleamed with an eerie green light.

"See that guy?" Speed whispered, pointing to the warhammer wielder. "Last year, he smashed a boulder in half during his qualifier."

"What about her?" I asked, nodding toward the woman.

"Poison daggers," Speed said. "One scratch, and you’re done for. Hope you’re paying attention, kid. You might end up facing someone like her."

I watched as the match began, the two fighters clashing in a whirlwind of fire and shadow. The crowd roared with every exchange, their excitement palpable.

But my focus kept drifting back to Rylan, who stood at the edge of the competitors’ section, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the arena. There was something about his confidence that grated on me, but it also fueled my determination.

"Imperial lapdog" I muttered to myself, rolling the words around in my mind. "Let’s see if that’s all they’ll remember me for."

As the day wore on, match after match filled the arena with spectacle and skill. When my name was finally called, a surge of nerves and excitement shot through me. I stepped into the arena, the roar of the crowd washing over me like a wave.

My opponent? None other than Rylan.

He stood across from me, his sword drawn and a cocky grin plastered on his face. "Ready to show everyone what the emperor’s son is made of?"

I met his gaze, my grip tightening on Eclipsion. "You wanted a fight? You’ve got one."