"That's all I have to say."

"In addition to the freshman ceremony tonight, there will also be a team selection."

"Your college assistants will soon hand out your class information and explain the team system."

Behind Sean, a group of forest elves appeared, like silver fireflies dancing through the crowd.

Rebecca fluttered over to Charles's shoulder, landing softly before leaning in to whisper:

"Master Charles, Rebecca congratulates you on being assigned to the class with the best teaching resources!"

"But you will soon face Violet College’s team selection. Please hold back your joy and listen carefully to Rebecca’s explanation."

"The team system at Violet College uses a winner selection format. Freshmen who participate will compete, with winners advancing and losers eliminated. By the end of the night, only the top ten freshmen will have the privilege of choosing their own teams."

"Not all freshmen must participate in the winner selection. Those who wish to participate need to register with an elf now! Master Charles, please decide quickly!"

Let fate be self-determined, Charles mused before asking:

"Rebecca, how will the freshmen who don’t participate in the selection be assigned to teams?"

Rebecca smiled warmly. "They’ll be randomly assigned within their class, Master Charles!"

"Understood, thank you, Rebecca!"

"It’s my honor to serve you!"

Charles sighed. This selection system felt like an initial screening—a means for Violet Academy to identify promising students.

In reality, he didn’t need to participate. As long as someone from Miller's team joined and earned a place, he’d automatically be included. He could simply wait on the sidelines.

Just then, Miller, not far from Charles, glanced back at him, her big eyes twinkling, almost as if she were silently urging him on.

Charles’s face shifted slightly. Wait, what does Miller mean by that? Hasn’t her sister Merlin already done him enough favors? Was she expecting him to play the tough role?

He leaned over to Rebecca and whispered, "Rebecca, can you contact other forest elves?"

The elf widened her eyes in worry and asked, "Master Charles, are you thinking of replacing Rebecca?"

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"Of course not, Rebecca!"

Charles cupped her gently in his hand, patting her little head to reassure her. "I’m not replacing you. I just need a bit of information."

"Could you find out if Miller Chris and Vincent have signed up for the selection?"

Rebecca flew off to check, and Charles opened his true vision, surveying the crowd around him. He exhaled in relief—though several students possessed considerable power, none seemed to have more magic than he did. If it came down to combat, he felt confident he could handle it.

There were, however, a few exceptions—like the enigmatic silver-haired girl he couldn’t quite gauge.

Charles didn’t plan to compete for the top spot; staying within the top ten was enough.

Rebecca soon returned, shaking her head gently, signaling that neither Miller nor Awen had signed up.

So Merlin really just wants to see what I’m made of?

"Sign me up, Rebecca!"

"Right away, Master Charles!"

Since obtaining the red dragon heart, Charles’s powers had evolved significantly—he himself wasn’t even sure of his limits.

He’d fought Leo once and found that, in terms of raw strength and speed, he could rival Leo, a formidable fighter in the fifth sequence.

Even if Leo’s strengths lay outside pure physical prowess, he was still a fifth-sequence opponent.

If Merlin wanted to see his capabilities, Charles would give her an answer—he wasn’t about to miss out on an opportunity.

"The registration for the winner selection is now closed. All participants, please remain in place. Non-participants, step back!"

The central square began to shift as students moved, with the candidates now standing prominently.

Among the challengers, Charles noticed a few familiar faces: the lightning-tattooed man from the Wilton family, the silver-haired girl, and four or five blue-blooded nobles he didn’t know.

"Please head to your assigned battle arena according to your serial number. The forest elves will distribute your numbers. Opponents will share the same serial number."

Rebecca handed Charles his number. After a quick glance, he handed it back. He was number 12, which meant his first match would be at the twelfth arena.

"Alright, let’s go, Rebecca!"

...

Charles’s first opponent was a dark-skinned, stocky boy. Upon seeing Charles, his initially cheerful face fell into a scowl.

"Seriously? First match and I’m up against the young master of the West family!"

With a blank expression, Charles stepped onto the ring. He didn’t care who he faced, as long as he secured victory.

"Three, two, one—start!"

At the referee’s command, Charles shot forward like an arrow, his right fist clenched as the wind whipped towards his opponent.

Spectators around the ring watched, some exclaiming:

"That’s the wind step! Young Master Charles has already mastered combat skills!"

The stocky boy watched as Charles closed in. His skin began to shimmer, hardening as if covered in metal.

Charles’s speed proved too much, giving his opponent no time to react. A strange gleam flashed in Charles’s eyes; his luck couldn’t have been better. His first opponent was from the Diona family, one of the eight red-blooded noble houses.

The Diona family specialized in the Iron Guardian sequence—a skill set blending combat strength with mechanical resilience.

It was unfortunate for this kid to face me, Charles thought. With the Iron Guardian’s defense, he might have lasted two rounds against someone else.

Charles’s fist connected with the boy’s raised arms. A strong gust blew, making it hard for the boy to keep his eyes open. Then a wave of dizziness struck him.

"Am I… flying?"

Realizing he was airborne, the boy watched his round body spin helplessly before landing with a loud thud, stirring up dust as he crashed to the ground.

The crowd instinctively backed away from the impact zone, watching as dust settled around him.

"Charles West wins and advances to the next round!"