"Are those the disciples of Phantasmal Academy?" Finnian whispered, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"They must be. Look at them—they're completely different from us," Rowan couldn't help but marvel.

A sudden commotion arose in the crowd. The man stepped to the edge of the platform and spoke in a clear, commanding voice, "Everyone, quiet down. I am Robert Johnson, a disciple of Phantasmal Academy, and this is my fellow disciple, Emily Davis. We are here under the academy's orders to guide those of you who aspire to become Arcanists."

As soon as he finished speaking, the square fell into a hushed silence, all eyes fixed on Robert Johnson. His voice carried a weighty authority that commanded immediate attention.

"For this selection, we will take you to Phantasmal Academy to undergo an initial assessment. Those who pass will be officially enrolled as students, where you will learn the ways of the Arcane," Robert Johnson continued, his gaze sweeping over the gathered children.

"Wow, they really are from Phantasmal Academy!" Elena couldn't help but whisper, her eyes filled with admiration.

"Prepare yourselves. We are about to depart," Robert Johnson instructed. With a wave of his staff, he chanted a series of arcane words.

As the incantation resonated through the air, a faint ripple stirred. Suddenly, a vast flying carpet materialized, hovering above the platform. The carpet, adorned with intricate magical runes, glowed softly.

"Everyone, board in an orderly fashion. No pushing," Robert Johnson directed the children onto the carpet.

The crowd clambered onto the carpet in turn, their hearts brimming with excitement and curiosity. The carpet was soft yet extraordinarily firm, evidently treated with some special enchantment.

Robert Johnson and Emily Davis leaped to the front of the carpet. With a deft movement of his staff, Robert Johnson set the carpet into a gentle ascent. Liam clung tightly to Rowan beside him, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling within him.

"Sit cross-legged and remain silent. You are not yet accustomed to the high-altitude winds, and speaking carelessly can cause breathing difficulties," Robert Johnson cautioned, his tone brooking no argument.

The children followed the instructions and sat cross-legged. The flying carpet accelerated forward, the wind roaring past their ears. Liam felt a strong gust of air hitting his face. He tried to control his breathing, feeling the speed and altitude of the carpet.

The carpet weaved through the clouds, soaring swiftly through the sky. The villages below shrank to the size of specks, quickly receding into the distance. The scenery beneath them transformed rapidly, with vast plains, rolling hills, and winding rivers passing by in quick succession. Liam had never seen such magnificent sights before, filling his heart with a yearning and reverence for the unknown world.

As time passed, a grand complex began to appear in the distance. It was a majestic academy, with white walls adorned with golden patterns and a massive archway engraved with intricate runes. The campus was lush with greenery, flowerbeds bursting with vibrant blooms, and the entire academy exuded an aura of mystery and nobility.

"That is Phantasmal Academy!" Robert Johnson pointed towards the sprawling buildings, his voice tinged with pride.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Liam and his companions stared wide-eyed at the scene before them, their hearts brimming with awe and anticipation. They had finally arrived at the place of their dreams.

Ahead of them, a towering mountain soared into the sky, its rugged peaks competing in splendor, shrouded in swirling mists that obscured their detailed forms. Occasionally, the distant call of a beast echoed through the air. A winding stone path twisted down from the peak, reminiscent of a painting, the landscape pristine and serene. A sense of being transported to another world gently settled upon them.

Looking up from afar, they could see a grand hall at the summit, partially veiled by clouds. Despite the mist, flashes of light shimmered through, invoking a sense of reverence in all who beheld it.

Beside the hall, a long stone bridge jutted out like a crescent moon, extending into the misty void and connecting to another mountain peak.

Such a magnificent sight was naturally the gateway to Phantasmal Academy, the revered place where Arcanists of the world came to grow and learn.

The flying carpet descended slowly to the base of the mountain, coming to rest before the academy. Robert Johnson and Emily Davis led the children off the carpet, one by one. In the square, many new arrivals had already gathered, greeted by academy mentors dressed in blue robes, their faces adorned with gentle smiles.

“Welcome to Phantasmal Academy,” an elder mentor approached with a warm smile. “Among you, only a select few will pass the test and become our disciples.”

The crowd fell silent, and Liam’s heart pounded with nervous anticipation. He quickly counted; there were thirty-seven participants in total.

“Cultivation requires perseverance,” the elder continued. “Your first test will challenge your willpower: a mountain ascent. Before you stands Mystomount, the threshold for all who wish to join our academy. The mountain is surrounded by a magical barrier; the higher you climb, the greater the pressure on your body. The higher you go, the better your result.”

“Now, set down your belongings and prepare to line up for the ascent.”

Liam’s heart raced with a mix of anxiety and excitement. He had spent his childhood gathering herbs on mountains and was accustomed to climbing. Though he knew the mountains here were different, and he was unfamiliar with magical barriers, he felt somewhat prepared. His grandfather had taught him Body Forging, cautioning him to use it only in dire situations. This, Liam thought, might just qualify as such a situation.

Beside him, Finnian and Rowan wore expressions of seriousness and tension. Little Fat Bill, known for his mischief, looked particularly troubled, as his fondness for food had left him with a belly that would surely be a burden. He steeled himself, silently cheering himself on.

“All participants, begin the ascent!” The elder signaled with a wave of his hand.

The stone steps were steep and uneven, flanked by treacherous terrain. One misstep could result in a dangerous fall.

Within half a day, Liam’s legs felt like lead, and he was drenched in sweat, struggling to catch his breath. He realized immediately that this mountain was unlike any he had climbed before. The pressure seemed to come from all directions, constantly pulling him downward. What had appeared to be a short path from the base now seemed endless, filling him with a growing sense of despair.

Ahead of him, a dozen strong youths were also struggling, gasping for breath as they climbed. So far, no one had given up.

Gritting his teeth, Liam focused on enduring the pressure of each step. Once he adjusted, he lifted his feet with determination and began climbing steadily. His experience told him this was the best way to conserve his energy for the long haul.

After about sixty or seventy steps, a boy behind him suddenly stumbled and fell, screaming in terror.

“I give up! I’m afraid of heights! Help!”

Everyone paused and looked down. A flash of light appeared as the elder overseeing the test conjured a mist-like hand that swiftly caught the falling boy and gently set him down at the base of the mountain.

Seeing the boy was safe, the others resumed climbing, concentrating solely on reaching greater heights.

In the square below, dozens of Phantasmal Academy disciples from various departments watched intently. Each climber’s struggle was observed and discussed in hushed tones.

Occasionally, a sudden leap on the stairs would elicit cheers, while a fall would prompt sighs of sympathy.

For these onlookers, the final results of the selection were secondary. The real spectacle was in seeing how high and how long each participant could climb.

The rankings from these two stages would be reported back to their respective departments. Their mentors would then decide whether to extend an invitation to the top performers.

This was the tradition, year after year.