The House Leo mansion was a sprawling estate. Majestic main towers were constructed from dark grey stone, while fountains in the courtyard refracted the lingering rays of the setting sun. Various exotic, glowing plants lined the paths like jewels.
Servants were already lined up in waiting, their movements uniform and highly disciplined.
"Young Master, we have arrived." Old Ford opened the carriage door and bowed.
Ethan stepped out onto the footboard, his gaze sweeping over the mansion that felt both familiar and foreign.
He gave a slight nod and entered the main keep, flanked by the butler and a retinue of servants.
The main reception hall of the Marquis's mansion in the Imperial City.
Unlike the heavy warmth of the castle back in their territory, the space here was more open and profound.
A massive crystal chandelier hung from the high vaulted ceiling, its light cold and bright, reflecting off the obsidian floor polished like a mirror and the giant ancestral portraits hanging on the walls.
Ethan followed the butler through the empty long corridor, the sound of his footsteps amplified in the silence.
The heavy, carved wooden doors were pushed open, revealing the scene inside the hall.
Sitting in the seat of honor was his father, Marquis Slin Leo.
His posture was as upright as a pine tree. He wore no ostentatious noble attire, only a dark hunting suit, looking as if he had just returned from a patrol.
He held a mithril pipe between his fingers, from which thin wisps of pale blue smoke rose. His face was mostly obscured by the haze, but the aura of authority and detachment—like a wall of solid ice—silently permeated the room.
The Marchioness sat at his side. Her well-maintained face wore a gentle and appropriate smile, and she was dressed in an exquisite court gown with her skirts spread across the wide chair.
Several elders and uncles from the branch families sat on either side.
When Ethan entered, they all rose to acknowledge him.
"Father, Mother." Ethan walked to the center and came to a halt. He placed his right hand over his chest and performed a standard noble salute, his conduct impeccable.
"You've returned." Marquis Leo's gaze pierced through the smoke, scanning Ethan's entire body. "That matter... you handled it well. You finally look like the heir to a Marquis."
"Thank you, Father." Ethan bowed his head slightly.
"Was the journey smooth?" the Marchioness spoke, her voice warm and filled with concern. "You must be tired. I'll have someone prepare some honeyed hot milk for you."
"Thank you for your concern, Mother. Everything was well on the road," Ethan replied.
"Very well. Do not leave the Inner City in the days leading up to the ceremony." The Marquis retracted his gaze and focused back on his pipe. "On the final day before the test, someone will come for you. Ford will arrange everything."
The Marchioness added, "Have you been taking your Spirit-Focusing Potion on time? If the effect is insufficient, I will purchase another one."
"I appreciate your care, Mother. The potion's effects have been excellent," Ethan answered.
The Marquis gave a grunt of affirmation, signaling the end of the conversation.
He did not mention the fate of the old finance official; that was a branch that had already been pruned clean.
The elders of the branch families asked a few brief questions about the territory's affairs, their words laced with respect.
The meeting was brief.
A moment later, Old Ford stepped forward soundlessly.
"The courtyard prepared for Young Master Ethan has been cleaned and readied."
"Go then." The Marquis waved a hand, his expression blurred by the smoke.
"Father, Mother, please rest well. Elders, I shall take my leave." Ethan bowed again and took two steps back before turning to leave the reception hall under Old Ford's guidance.
Passing through the cold, smooth corridors, Ethan returned to the detached courtyard prepared specifically for him.
On the morning of the third day after arriving in the Imperial City, a plain black carriage without any family crest silently stopped at the mansion's side gate.
Ethan was already waiting in the courtyard.
He had changed into a set of dark grey travel clothes that were durable yet low-profile, clean and simple.
He looked at Old Ford, who stood to the side.
"Young Master." Old Ford stepped forward, his voice kept extremely low. "We cannot accompany you to the Wizard Tower. Master Gal's will is absolute law; no one in the entire Imperial City dares to overstep. No one knows what the test will be this time, so please, guard your heart and focus entirely on the trial." He paused before adding, "Everything is ready. I will remain here at the mansion."
"I understand." Ethan nodded, grasping the underlying meaning of Old Ford's words. Even with the immense power of House Leo, they were nothing but docile sheep in the face of true wizardry.
"I understand."
Without any further farewells, Ethan turned and walked toward the pitch-black carriage.
The driver was shrouded in a cloak, his face indistinguishable. He silently opened the carriage door.
...
The door opened.
Ethan's feet stepped onto the cold, hard black stone slabs, producing a hollow echo.
He looked up.
Magnificent.
Cold.
A pitch-black tower of unimaginable height stood between heaven and earth with an overwhelming presence.
The massive stones forming the tower were neither metal nor rock, their material hard to discern. Fine silver-grey runes flowed across the surface like a frozen subterranean river. The top of the tower vanished into thick clouds, radiating a constant, suffocating pressure.
It was more than just a building; it was like a slumbering ancient beast. Every silent pulse of energy from the stone walls caused the surrounding air to distort almost imperceptibly.
Ethan was not alone in the vast plaza before the tower.
Nearly a thousand boys and girls stood scattered about. Most were dressed simply, bearing the dust of long travels, some even in rags.
Many instinctively hugged their arms or rubbed their palms, as if that meager warmth could dispel the chill seeping from their very marrow.
This was the most primal reaction of a mortal body when facing a power beyond imagination.
A few youths, whose clothing was clearly more refined and made of better materials or cut, tried to straighten their backs, struggling to maintain a final shred of dignity.
But deep in their eyes, the unmistakable tension, confusion, and aimlessness regarding the unknown were no different from the other candidates.
Essentially, no one knew what was about to happen or how to respond. All that remained was instinctive awe and fear.
The massive tower remained silent, as if scrutinizing the group of mortal offerings at its feet.
Time flowed slowly in the oppressive atmosphere. No one dared to make a sound.
Occasionally, someone would cough from the cold, only to immediately cover their mouth and look around in terror, fearing they might trigger some unpredictable consequence.
The heavy doors of the Wizard Tower slid inward soundlessly, and a figure draped in a dark green robe appeared at the entrance like a ghost.
The hem of the robe moved without wind, and a hood concealed the entire face, leaving only a deep shadow.
"The first trial: Chaotic Labyrinth. Those who walk out on their own shall stay. Those who lose their way shall return."
The moment the words fell, the runic vortex suddenly expanded and accelerated its rotation, creating a powerful suction out of thin air.
The youths on the plaza who could still barely stand or crawl were swept up like debris in an invisible torrent, lifted off the ground against their will.
Before their cries of alarm could escape their throats, they were instantly pulled into the rotating runic vortex and vanished.
Ethan felt himself enveloped by an irresistible force, his body feeling as though it were falling into an endless abyss.
Boundless darkness surrounded him. There was no sound, no light, and even his own sense of existence began to blur.
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