Chapter 3:Oopsie!

Continued...

“What… are you?”

The smoke hadn’t cleared yet.

Shattered crystal panels floated in the air, suspended by unstable mana. The once-pristine testing grounds—an ancient stone platform engraved with glowing arrays—was now a crater, its runes burned black and still crackling with residual energy.

At the center of it all stood the boy.

Snow-white hair fluttered gently despite the absence of wind. His left eye glowed a soft, unsettling pink, while his right shimmered an icy blue—both wide with shock as he stared at his own trembling hands.

“I—I didn’t mean to…” he whispered.

Beside him, frozen in disbelief, was his elven friend. Emerald-green hair framed a pale face, gold eyes reflecting the destruction with a mix of awe and fear.

“You didn’t even chant,” the elf muttered. “That array was supposed to measure mana… not explode.”

High above, far from the ruins, magic mirrors rippled.

Silhouetted Voice:
“That boy…”

Another Voice:
“…He broke an ancient S-rank array.”

A third voice, calm but heavy with authority, spoke next.

“Summon him. Immediately.”

The boy sat stiffly in an enormous circular chamber; its walls lined with floating tomes and rotating sigils. The elf stood close beside him, ears twitching nervously.

“You think they’re going to expel us?” the elf whispered.

“I think they’re going to execute me,” the boy replied flatly.

Before either could panic further, the air bent.

A tall figure stepped forward from a curtain of light—robes deep violet, trimmed with silver runes. His presence alone made the mana in the room settle, as if bowing.

Principal Arcanus Valefor.

“So,” the principal said, golden eyes narrowing slightly, “you are the child who destroyed a test site built to withstand dragon-class spells.”

The boy swallowed. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Apologies are irrelevant,” Valefor replied. “Results are not.”

He raised a hand, and a crystal sphere the size of a carriage materialized in midair. Unlike the previous test orb, this one was pitch black, etched with ancient symbols.

“This is a True Rank Sphere,” the principal continued. “It does not measure output. It measures existence.”

The elf’s eyes widened. “That’s… only used for legends.”

“Place your hand on it,” Valefor commanded.

The boy hesitated, then nodded.

When his palm touched the sphere—

CRACK.

A blinding surge of color exploded outward. Pink and blue mana spiraled together, forming a violent helix that shook the tower. Ancient symbols flared, shattered, reformed, then burned white.

The sphere screamed.

Not metaphorically.

It let out a high, piercing wail before abruptly going silent.

Then, a single rune appeared.

SSS

The room fell dead quiet.

The elf’s jaw dropped. “S-SSS?! That’s not even supposed to—”

Principal Valefor exhaled slowly.

“…As I feared.”

The boy pulled his hand back, panic flooding his mismatched eyes. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

Valefor turned sharply.

“No,” he said. “That is unprecedented.”

He snapped his fingers.

Two magical seals ignited in the air.

“Contact the royal capital,” the principal ordered. “And summon the boy’s parents.”

The boy stiffened. “My… parents?”

Valefor’s gaze softened—just slightly.

“Yes. Because a twelve-year-old with heterochromia tied to opposing mana poles, royal blood signatures, and an SSS-ranked core does not belong in an entrance exam.”

He looked directly at the boy.

“You belong in history.”

The elf stepped closer, fists clenched. “He’s not a weapon.”

Valefor met the elf’s golden stare.

“No,” he agreed quietly. “But the world will try to make him one.”

The tower’s bells began to ring.

Far away, powerful figures turned their heads.

And somewhere beyond the academy walls, two parents felt a sudden chill—knowing their child had just been discovered.

 The Academy Whispers

The academy didn’t explode.

It buzzed.

Corridors once filled with casual chatter were now alive with hushed voices and sharp glances. Students clustered in corners, magic devices glowing as rumors spread faster than spells.

“Did you hear?”
“They said the test site was annihilated.”
“No way. That array survived the Demon War.”
“I heard it was a first-year.”
“A monster, you mean.”

A group of upperclassmen paused mid-stride.

“SSS rank,” one scoffed. “That’s a myth.”

Another swallowed hard. “Then why did the principal seal the west tower?”

High above them all, the bells rang once more.

A teleportation circle ignited inside the Principal’s Tower.

Light folded inward, and two figures stepped forward.

The pressure in the room changed instantly.

The elf froze. His instincts screamed.

The boy’s breath caught in his throat.

“Mom…?”
“Dad…?”

The woman wore simple robes the color of dawn, silver embroidery barely visible unless the light caught it just right. Her hair was white—just like her son’s—but her eyes glowed soft rose-pink, warm and endless.

The man beside her was tall and calm, wearing a dark mantle lined with faded royal sigils. His right eye gleamed deep blue, cold and infinite, like the ocean beneath moonlight.

Principal Valefor bowed.

“Your Majesties.”

The room went silent.

The boy’s knees nearly gave out.

“M-Majesties…?”

The woman knelt immediately, pulling him into a fierce embrace.

“You’re hurt?” she asked, hands scanning him in panic.

“I’m fine,” he squeaked. “I just… broke a test site.”

She sighed. “Again?”

The elf blinked. “Again?”

Valefor straightened. “Your child’s rank has manifested.”

The man nodded once. “SSS?”

“Yes.”

No surprise.

The elf stared. “You’re… not shocked?”

The man placed a hand on his son’s head.

“We sealed his core when he was born,” he said calmly. “It seems the academy undid half of that.”

The woman looked up, pink eyes sharp now.

“We hid him for twelve years for this reason.”

Valefor gestured, and ancient symbols formed in the air—two crests overlapping.

“The Rose Sovereign,” he said, pointing to a glowing pink sigil.
“And the Azure Void King,” he continued, indicating a blue one.

The elf’s breath hitched. “Those are… extinct royal lines.”

The woman smiled sadly.

“Not extinct. Forbidden.”

 The Truth of His Eyes

The boy looked between his parents. “My eyes…”

The man crouched to meet his gaze.

“Your left eye,” he said gently, “is the Rose Core—life, creation, emotional mana. It can heal nations or enslave hearts.”

The woman touched the boy’s cheek.

“Your right eye is the Azure Void—destruction, space, absolute order. It can erase magic itself.”

The elf whispered, horrified, “Those two should kill each other…”

“They should,” the woman agreed.

She smiled at her son.

“But you were born holding both.”

The air shimmered faintly around the boy—pink and blue mana intertwining naturally, like they’d always belonged together.

Valefor exhaled.

“A dual-sovereign vessel… No wonder the array shattered.”

Back in the academy halls—

A second-year slammed his book shut. “I don’t care if he’s SSS. No kid should have that kind of power.”

A noble girl clenched her gloves. “If he’s royal, why hide him?”

A quiet first-year whispered, eyes shining. “Maybe… he’ll change everything.”

On the training field, a prodigy stared toward the tower.

“So he’s finally here,” they muttered. “The balance-breaker.”

The principal turned to the parents.

“The council will not stay silent.”

The man nodded. “We know.”

The woman hugged her son tighter. “That’s why he won’t face this alone.”

The elf stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

“I’m staying,” he said firmly.

The boy looked up, mismatched eyes burning with fear and resolve.

“I don’t want to be a weapon,” he said. “I just want to learn magic… and protect the people I care about.”

For a moment, the ancient towers of the academy listened.

Then, far beyond the kingdom, something stirred.

Two sovereign powers had awakened.

And the world had noticed.