Chapter 375: Royal Capital II
The arena stirred again as the Captains finished their silent inspection. A tall figure stepped forward from among them—the exam’s overseer, a seasoned mage whose robes carried the crest of the Clover Kingdom. His voice boomed through the coliseum, magically amplified.
"Welcome, candidates, to the Magic Knights Entrance Exam. Today, you stand before the strongest order in the kingdom. Remember this—your skill, your resolve, and your potential will be tested. Only those who prove themselves will be chosen."
The crowd of hopefuls straightened, tension and excitement mixing in the air.
"First," the overseer announced, raising a hand, "we will begin with the Grimoire Compatibility Test. Summon your brooms."
A murmur ran through the candidates as assistants brought out racks stacked with simple, worn brooms. They were handed out one by one, until each candidate held one.
Asta gripped his broom tightly, his face filled with determination. "Alright! Let’s do this!"
Yuno only brushed his fingertips across the wood, his calm demeanor unshaken. Dave turned his broom lazily in his hand, as though none of this truly mattered.
"Channel your mana," the overseer commanded. "Let the broom rise and carry you into the air."
Immediately, several candidates shot upward, their brooms lifting smoothly as streams of magic swirled beneath them. Others wobbled, shaking as they struggled to balance, while some couldn’t even get their broom to twitch.
Yuno’s broom rose instantly, steady and controlled, lifting him into the air with ease. His posture was flawless, his magic flowing so naturally that it seemed the broom itself was eager to obey him.
Dave’s broom rose just as smoothly, though his expression stayed relaxed, almost bored. He leaned slightly on the handle as though floating in the air required no effort at all. To him, this wasn’t a test—it was routine.
And then there was Asta.
"Alright... focus... focus... RISE!!!" he shouted, pouring every ounce of his willpower into the broom. But no matter how much he yelled, stomped, or strained, the broom didn’t so much as twitch. Instead, the anti-magic birds circled him tighter, chirping like they were laughing.
Some candidates snickered. "He can’t even get it to move..."
"Pathetic. He’ll never make it past the first test."
But Asta only clenched his teeth harder, sweat dripping down his face. "I... I don’t care!! Even if I can’t use magic, I’ll still become the Wizard King!!"
Up above, the Captains watched with keen eyes. Some chuckled in amusement, others narrowed their gaze. None of them spoke, but the interest—or lack thereof—was obvious in their faces.
Dave glanced down at Asta, shaking his head faintly. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. Yet there was no malice in his tone—only acknowledgment.
The overseer’s voice rang out again. "That concludes the first test! Those unable to control their broom... take note. The trials ahead will only grow harder."
Asta collapsed onto his broom in frustration, panting from the effort. But even then, his eyes burned with unyielding fire.
Yuno landed smoothly, stepping down with calm confidence. Dave drifted down a moment later, still as composed as ever.
One after another, there were many magic related tests which Asta failed all of it and then finally..
The overseer lifted a hand once more. "Next... combat trials."
The crowd buzzed with nervous energy.
Asta instantly shot up, his exhaustion forgotten. "Yes! Finally some real fighting!!"
Dave’s lips curved faintly. "This is where it gets interesting."
The overseer’s words sent ripples of anticipation across the candidates. Brooms were whisked away, and the ground shifted, glowing lines etching themselves across the stone to mark out dozens of sparring circles.
"Now," the overseer declared, "you will demonstrate your combat ability. Face each other. Show us what strength you can bring to the Magic Knights."
Asta’s head shot up, his eyes blazing. "Finally!! This is my chance to prove it!!"
Dave glanced sideways at Yuno, his expression unreadable. Then, in a low voice meant only for him, he said,
"Go fight Asta. All out. If you don’t make it look flashy, the Captains might write him off completely. He doesn’t stand a chance to get in a Magic Knight Squad—but if you give him a show, they’ll then see his true powers."
Yuno’s eyes flicked toward him, narrowing slightly. He didn’t need further explanation. He understood exactly what Dave was hinting at—Asta’s chances were razor thin, and if he didn’t get an chance to show his powers, he’d be overlooked before the real tests even began.
"...Alright," Yuno said simply, nodding once.
Asta, bouncing on his heels with raw energy, didn’t notice the quiet exchange. His gaze was already locked on Yuno, his rival, his brother, his lifelong benchmark. "Yuno! Let’s go! Right here, right now! I’ll show everyone—I’m not backing down!!"
The overseer gave a curt nod. "Very well. You two—step into the circle."
The crowd buzzed as the two boys entered the dueling zone. Whispers spread like wildfire:
"Those are the two four-leaf kids..."
"No, look closer—one of them doesn’t even have mana. He’s the one the birds swarmed."
"Still, if they’re both chosen to fight first, maybe the Captains want to see something."
Inside the ring, Yuno’s four-leaf glimmered as it opened, pages turning with a gust that carried the scent of cutting air. His body seemed wrapped in a living breeze, his footwork already sharp and precise. He was a prodigy, no question—wind and magic bent to him like he was born to command it.
Asta, however, was no longer just the loud, reckless boy from a village. He drew his battered greatsword with a thunderous clang, but the way he held it told the real story. His stance was low and coiled, every muscle aligned with purpose. The faint shimmer of armament haki coated his forearms, the blade humming faintly as if it resonated with his intent. The rhythm of his breathing shifted—Dark Moon Breathing, Demon Slayer form—his chest rising and falling in controlled cycles that fed his body unnatural strength.
The overseer lifted a hand. "Begin!"
Yuno moved first, a blur of wind-assisted movement, his Breath of Wind layered seamlessly with his grimoire’s spells. Blades of air spiraled toward Asta, elegant and precise, enough to tear through steel with ease.
But Asta didn’t simply block. He stepped into the attack, his body vanishing for an instant with Soru, the ground cracking beneath the force of his step. His greatsword whirled upward in a perfect arc—steel-cutting swordsmanship meeting spell-forged wind. Sparks and dust erupted as his strike split Yuno’s wind blades apart, scattering them like they were nothing more than a breeze.
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