Pulling him from his thoughts, Noah saw that Sophia and James were up next.
James stepped forward first, with a confidence look on his face—but Noah could see the stiffness in his posture, the way his fingers twitched at his sides.
"I promise, baby, I'll be okay," James said, flashing Sophia a reassuring smile. "Just sit here and watch. I'll be fine, like everyone else."
Sophia's expression tightened. "Okay…" she muttered, but her voice wavered. Her hands curled into fists, knuckles whitening as she watched him walk toward the platform.
Noah sighed. She was trying to hide it, but the worry in her eyes was obvious.
James kept his stride steady, forcing confidence into every step as he climbed onto the ritual platform.
The golden runes flared to life, the chanting of the robed figures swelling into a heavy, rhythmic pulse.
Then—the light struck.
A golden surge slammed into James's chest. His body locked up. The glow seeped into his skin, veins bulging as mana carved through him like molten fire.
James clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. A strangled breath tore from his throat, his muscles spasming under the sheer force of it.
Noah's stomach twisted.
'Something's wrong.' Noah narrowed his eyes. Everyone had struggled with the ritual, but James… his body wasn't just rejecting it—it looked like it was being forced into something unnatural.
James's reaction was different—far worse than anyone before him. His body convulsed violently, a shudder rolling through him like a marionette on tangled strings.
Sophia lurched forward. "James—!"
Ava grabbed her arm, holding her back. "Let them handle it."
Sophia's breath came in ragged gasps, eyes locked onto James, who now looked like he was being ripped apart from the inside.
Then, the golden light… shifted.
The radiant glow around James darkened, gold bleeding into metallic bronze.
The air thickened. A sharp ticking sound filled the silence.
Tick.
Tock.
Noah flinched, covering his ears as the relentless ticking drilled into his skull.
The chief's voice rang out, steady despite the chaos. "Endure. Let it run its course."
James let out a strangled gasp, his body arching backward as veins pulsed visibly beneath his skin. The golden energy writhed like living chains, binding itself deeper into him.
Then—something appeared.
Gears.
Floating, metallic rings materialized around James, orbiting him like the rings of a planet.
Tick.
One turned, slow and deliberate.
Tock.
A smaller gear clicked into place, moving in perfect sync.
Noah's breath hitched. James wasn't just standing still—he was being held in place.
Click.
His head jerked unnaturally, eyes locking onto Sophia.
Cold. Blank. Mechanical.
Sophia's breath hitched. "James?"
Tick.
His foot lifted.
Tock.
His knee bent, his body moving like clockwork—rigid, controlled.
Click. Click.
The gears spun faster.
James's body adjusted, limbs syncing with the unseen force. His movements sharpened, no longer sluggish but precise. Efficient. Inhuman.
Then—
Snap.
The gears vanished.
James exploded forward, moving in a blur.
Sophia barely had time to react before he was in front of her.
Not stiff. Not robotic.
Just… James.
Sophia's breath caught in her throat.
"James…?"
He lifted a hand, resting it gently on her shoulder. His touch was warm. Steady. Human.
The ticking was gone.
The gears were gone.
All that remained was his voice.
"It's okay," he murmured. "I'm okay."
Sophia's hands trembled. Her eyes searched his face, looking for something—anything—that told her he was still himself.
And she found it.
His warmth. His presence. The way he was him.
Her knees nearly buckled, but before she could stumble, James pulled her into his arms.
Sophia stiffened for half a second, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. But as his warmth surrounded her, the tension melted from her body.
His grip was firm, grounding—not desperate, not panicked. Just there.
Slowly, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.
"I was so scared," she whispered.
James exhaled, his breath slow and steady, his chin resting lightly against her head.
"I know," he murmured. "I'm sorry."
For a long moment, they just stood there.
The ticking was gone.
And for the first time since it started—James truly felt in control.
A quiet cough broke the silence.
The chief stepped forward, his presence cutting through the moment like a knife. His gaze lingered on James, studying him, before he finally spoke.
"You are bound to Clockwork Magic."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Noah frowned. Clockwork Magic? He'd heard all day of elemental affinities—fire, water, lightning and even beast magic. But this? This was something different.
The chief continued, his voice calm but firm.
"Not of fire nor ice. Not of wind nor steel," the chief intoned. "You are bound to something deeper—the law of order, the refinement of time and motion. Just as the great mechanisms of the world turn without fail, so too does your power."
James stood still, absorbing the words, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides.
Noah exhaled slowly. So that's what was happening…
James hadn't just been struggling to accept mana—he had been adjusting to something else. A system that wouldn't let him move freely. It had resisted him, forced his body to align with its rhythm.
The chief's gaze didn't waver. "Clockwork Magic is not reckless. It is not wild. It is precise, measured, unyielding."
Noah's stomach tightened. The way the chief spoke—it felt like a warning.
"The more you move, the more you adjust, the more your body will optimize itself to follow the perfect rhythm of motion."
Then, the chief's voice hardened.
"But be warned… if you fall out of sync, if you resist the mechanism that governs your power…"
The air seemed to press down on them.
"You will be crushed beneath it."
A sharp silence followed.
Noah's breath hitched. 'Crushed?'
He glanced at James. The guy barely reacted. His jaw was tight, his eyes unreadable—but Noah saw it.
A flicker of tension.
He understood what those words meant.
This magic—it wasn't just his to wield.
It had its own rules.
And if James couldn't follow them…
'It would destroy him.'
Noah couldn't help but think about the chief's words.
"Scary…" he muttered under his breath.
Amanda, standing beside him, didn't respond. Her gaze remained fixed on James, her expression unreadable. She seemed preoccupied—troubled by what she had just witnessed.
However, regardless of how Sophia felt, the show must go on.
"Who would like to go next?" The chief's voice cut through the hushed murmurs, his eyes scanning the remaining students.
A tense silence lingered. Some shuffled on their feet, hesitating, still reeling from what they had just seen.
Then, a voice rose—clear, steady, unexpected.
"I'll go."
Still in James' arms, Sophia's voice carried through the square, freezing those around her in place.
Eyes snapped toward her. Even James stiffened, his hold instinctively tightening.
A flicker of surprise crossed the chief's face, as if he had anticipated a different candidate. He studied Sophia carefully, but whatever thoughts crossed his mind, he kept them to himself.
"You are certain?" the chief asked, his voice level.
Sophia exhaled, her hands pressing gently against James' chest before stepping back. Though her body trembled slightly, her resolve was clear in her eyes.
"Yes."
James caught her wrist, his grip firm but careful. "Soph… you don't have to." His voice was low, almost pleading. "You saw what happened to me. What if—"
"I know." She turned to him, her fingers brushing over his hand before pulling away. "But if you can't control it… if it starts hurting you… someone has to be able to help."
She inhaled sharply, her gaze steady despite the tremble in her fingers. "James, you went through so much pain, and maybe I will too. But if I have to suffer just to make sure you don't go through this alone, then I will." Her voice was firm, unwavering. "I won't let you face this by yourself."
Her words weren't loud, but they struck with the weight of certainty.
James stared at her, searching for any sign of hesitation, any excuse to convince her otherwise. But there was none.
Noah hadn't expected her to step up so soon—especially after how shaken she had been just moments ago. The sheer resolve in her voice stunned him.
'She's really willing to go through that kind of pain… for James?' he thought, his throat tightening. It wasn't just determination—it was something deeper, something unshakable.
Amanda, still unreadable, muttered under her breath, "She's pushing herself."
Noah nodded slightly. "Yeah." But he couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just bravery—this was sacrifice.
The chief studied her for a moment longer before finally nodding. "Very well." He gestured toward the platform. "Step forward."
Sophia took a deep breath, then moved.
Each step was deliberate, but the weight of the ritual seemed heavier now. The other students parted, whispering among themselves, their expressions ranging from admiration to concern.
As she ascended the platform, the robed figures resumed their positions, their chanting already beginning to swell. The golden runes flickered to life once more, crawling along the stone like veins of fire.
Then—
The light struck.
A sharp gasp tore from Sophia's throat as the golden energy slammed into her chest. She staggered, knees nearly buckling, but she forced herself to stay upright.
Noah's breath hitched.
From the corner of his eye, he caught movement—Devon. His arms were crossed, but his fingers gripped his biceps tightly. His jaw was clenched just a bit too hard. The usual smirk was gone, his eyes shadowed by something Noah couldn't quite place.
Devon…?
It was subtle, but Devon looked… disturbed. Not by the ritual itself, but by Sophia's resolve. The way she threw herself into suffering for someone else.
Noah swallowed, keeping his observations to himself. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but something about Sophia's actions had shaken Devon more than he would ever let on.
The energy coursing through her seemed different—sharper, more controlled. It wasn't overwhelming her. It was weaving through her.
Then, it shifted.
Sophia let out a choked breath as the golden light dimmed, its hue bleeding into a soft silver. It pulsed, cool and rhythmic, like the quiet pull of the tide beneath a full moon.
A hushed murmur spread through the crowd.
Noah felt the air change.
The mana around her wasn't just raw energy anymore—it had taken on a presence, a quiet gravity that bent reality in ways he couldn't put into words.
The chief's eyes sharpened.
"Lunar Magic."
The words carried weight, settling over the gathered students like the final chime of a bell.
Noah barely registered the murmurs around him. His focus was locked onto Sophia. Her body trembled, breath unsteady, yet she did not collapse. Instead, her fingers curled slightly, as if testing the sensation of mana now flowing through her veins.
The chief stepped forward. "The magic of the moon is that of balance," he intoned. "It is neither wholly destructive nor purely healing. It ebbs and flows, shifting between light and shadow. It brings clarity—and illusion."
Sophia shivered as the last remnants of the ritual faded, the silver glow retreating beneath her skin like the tide pulling back from shore.
She exhaled sharply, her body finally relaxing. The intensity in her eyes hadn't dimmed, but something in her had changed. The hesitation, the fear that once lingered beneath the surface—washed away.
She lifted her gaze, meeting the chief's eyes. "What does it mean?"
His expression remained unreadable.
"It means you walk a path of light and shadow," he said. "Your power will not be dictated by destruction nor by preservation, but by your will. The moon does not burn, nor does it heal outright. It influences. It bends reality in subtle ways. Lunar Magic is the art of control."
Sophia stared down at her hands, as if trying to feel the weight of what she had just gained.