Once again, Elena found herself cradled in the arms of a stranger. He had a fair complexion, with strands of white hair cascading over his forehead, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold secrets untold.

As she glanced to her side, she noticed another figure nearby, their features shrouded in uncertainty.

Turning her gaze, she beheld a scene of utter devastation. Flames licked the sky, casting an eerie glow over the ruined landscape. Mountains lay in jagged disarray, and amidst the chaos, warriors in armor stood as silent sentinels. Their bodies bore the scars of battle, some missing limbs, others devoid of heads. Below, a river of blood snaked its way , a testament to the violence that had transpired.

Her attention snapped back to the man holding her as his voice cut through the silence, his words ominous and foreboding. "I will raze Elysium to the ground," he declared with chilling certainty.

A shiver raced down Elena's spine, jolting her awake from the haunting vision.

"Miss Elena, I hope you had a good sleep," said the teacher, prompting an eruption of laughter from the entire class. As Elena struggled to shake off the remnants of her haunting nightmare, she realized she was in the middle of a history lesson.

"I'm sorry, I must have dozed off," Elena replied, her mind still clouded with thoughts of the enigmatic figure from her dream.

She had been plagued by the same recurring nightmare since childhood, but in recent times, it had become more vivid and frequent. "I wonder if it's some kind of prophecy," Elena mused to herself, her thoughts drifting to the mysterious man with white hair and blue eyes. "Could he be connected to the Mickelson house?"

Members of the Mickelson were known to possess distinct features: white hair, blue eyes, and fair complexion. Elena herself exhibited these traits.

"But who could it be?" she wondered silently to herself."

"Miss Elena, could you please focus here?" the teacher's warning snapped Elena back to reality, and she straightened up in her seat, determined to concentrate on the lesson.

The topic of discussion was the founder of Elysium, Salazar Elysium, and how he, along with the gods, had established the land. He also fought against his best friend, who attempted to betray the Gods.

Elena found history intriguing but it also stirred up unwelcome reminder of her father, Daemon Mickelson, the tyrant king who had ruled Elysium until his demise at the hands of his own people.

Although her father was killed when she was just a child, and she cannot recall anything about him, she has heard and read only terrible things about him. Stories of how he used to kill people for amusement and derive pleasure from women forcefully, with her being the product of such a reprehensible act.

She feared the mention of his name, dreading the piercing gazes of her classmates filled with disdain. Today, however, she was spared; after all, Salazar had lived 3000 years ago.

As the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, Elena hastily packed her belongings, eager to escape the confines of the classroom. But before she could leave, she was interrupted by her classmate.

"Hey," the girl said softly, "the headmaster is looking for you."

Elena's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Me? But why?"

The girl shrugged, a small frown creasing her brow. "Don't know."

"Okay, thanks for telling me," Elena said. She tried to recall the girl's name, but she couldn't.

The headmaster's chamber was in another building, and she was unwilling to walk, but she was also worried about why he had called her.

It was a bit of a long walk, and she had to pass through the training ground, which was often used for teaching sword fighting and other weapons. Even now, there were a few people training.

As she walked through the ground, her eyes were fixed on something in the distance: Prastan, the town where the Celestials lived. Once Salazar had established Elysium, he shared his gift received from the Gods among nine other individuals who were tasked to protect Elysium. The descendants of these individuals were called Celestials, and over time, nine different houses were formed.

In her veins too flowed the blood of the Celestials, marking her as a member of the Mickelson house by lineage. However, being a bastard, she was denied the right to bear the Mickelson name.

The town was surrounded by a tall wall, and each pillar of the wall bore a flag representing one of the nine celestial houses. Among them was the flag of the Mickelson clan, which still waved defiantly despite Daemon's actions.

The walls surrounding the town of Prastan rose to staggering heights, casting their protective embrace over its entirety. Despite their imposing stature, they couldn't conceal the grandeur of the king's palace, its spires and domes standing tall above the rooftops, even visible from beyond the town's borders.

As she gazed admiringly at the distant Prastan, Elena found herself standing before the headmaster's chamber. The allure of someday being welcomed by the Celestials stirred within her, a longing she could scarcely suppress. Yet, the reality weighed heavily upon her: as the illegitimate daughter of a tyrant king, such aspirations seemed almost insurmountable.

As Elena entered the headmaster's chamber, her eyes fell upon his imposing figure seated behind the desk. Despite his balding head, his sturdy build gave him an air of authority. The room was adorned with countless volumes.

Two familiar figures caught her attention as she stepped further into the chamber. Moori and Jaco, her fellow classmates, leaned casually against the left wall. Jaco, always the silent observer, seemed almost invisible compared to Moori, whose boisterous presence filled the room. Memories of childhood bullying flooded back as Elena recalled Moori's relentless taunts and the absurd rumors he had spread ,about her being the reincarnation of tyrant king.

"My day is ruined now. Why did you call this tyrant bastard?" Moori's voice cut through the tension, his disdain evident.

The headmaster's response was stern. "Young man, I believe I've already warned you about your conduct."

Rem's calm voice broke the silence, drawing Elena's attention to him. She hadn't noticed him sitting in a chair opposite the headmaster.

Rem stands as a beacon of excellence, unrivaled in both intellect and swordsmanship in Elena's class. His face, framed by a mane of black hair, displays determination, leaving no doubt of his capabilities.

"Can we proceed with the agenda? I assume everyone is present now," Rem suggested, his composed demeanor a stark contrast to the tension in the room.

"I'll get straight to the point," said the headmaster, his voice cutting through the noise that had descended upon the room. "You four are the top candidates in the Bronze group, so we have decided to promote a few of you to the Silver group."

The gravity of his words hung heavy in the air. Everyone understood the significance of this promotion; it meant stepping into the realm of real-life missions, where theoretical knowledge took a backseat to practical skills.

"For this year, we have decided to host a tournament between you four," the headmaster continued, "the rules and the location for this tournament will be communicated to you. It will be held in five days from now, in front of thousands of people."

Moori broke the silence with a question tinged with suspicion. "A tournament just to be promoted to the Silver group? This has never happened before. Does this have something to do with Elena?"

His words struck a chord of unease within Elena.

"He was right," Elena mused silently, her thoughts drifting to the headmaster's words. "The tournament wasn't necessary for promoting a candidate from Bronze to Silver group." She reflected on the use of the grouping system, designed to categorize tasks based on difficulty and reward. The higher the group, the more arduous the task and the greater the potential reward. Silver group, merely the third tier from the bottom, paled in comparison to the upper echelons of ranking. Moreover, Elena recognized that these grouping systems predominantly applied to commoners; Celestials and nobles remained exempt from such categorizations.

The headmaster's response was firm. "There will be no further discussion. You are free to opt out. The rules of this tournament will be sent to you. You may leave now."

As Rem and Jaco rose from their seats and exited the room, Moori lingered behind. His words, filled with a strange mix of pity and malice, stung like a lash.

"See you at the tournament, bastard," Moori sneers.
Elena chooses to ignore Moori's taunt, her gaze fixed resolutely ahead.

"Elena, could you stay back for a moment?" The headmaster's voice carried a weight of importance as he beckoned her to remain.
"Yes, sure." Elena's voice held a hint of curiosity as she settled into her seat.
"So, what do you make of this circumstance?" The headmaster's gaze bore into Elena, seeking her insight.
"I'm not entirely sure what you're referring to," Elena admitted, her brow furrowing with concern.
"Moori made a valid point. We've never before organized a tournament for promotional reasons, not even for diamond or higher groups."
"So, why now?" Elena's voice betrayed a touch of skepticism.
The headmaster's eyes softened as he regarded her. "You are a celestial, Elena. Regardless of the animosity directed towards you or your father's actions, your celestial lineage remains unchanged."
Elena's eyes widened with realization.
"Are you suggesting this tournament is designed for me? Are they expecting me to emerge victorious?" Elena's voice quivered with uncertainty.
"The focus should not be solely on winning the tournament, but on winning the hearts of the people," the headmaster advised, his tone gentle yet firm.
"Winning over the hearts of people?" Elena's gaze fell, a shadow of doubt clouding her expression. She understood the magnitude of the task ahead. Winning a battle was one thing, but earning the trust and acceptance of others, especially those who harbored unfounded resentment, seemed an insurmountable challenge.
"I fear it may prove to be an impossible feat. How can I expect others to embrace me when their disdain stems from circumstances beyond my control?" Elena's voice resonated with disappointment.
"To be candid, even I am uncertain," the headmaster confessed with a heavy sigh. "All I know is that this tournament is orchestrated for you by Celestials themselves. Their eyes will be upon you, Elena. Remember that."

"Thank you for apprising me of the situation, Headmaster. I shall try to do my best," Elena expressed her gratitude with a respectful nod.
With resolve in her heart, Elena rose from her seat and gracefully departed the chamber, prepared to confront the challenges that lay ahead.