**THE NOBLE HOUSE PRODIGIES**
{ Zone 6 – Eternal Aristocracy }
The sixth portal opened like a gateway to night itself, darkness flowing out in elegant tendrils. From this shadow stepped Lady Evara Umbrea, and with her came the weight of centuries-old nobility and the chill of eternal night.
"Zone Six brings the chill of ancient grace—Lady Evara Umbrea!"
**"Born of the eternal bloodline of House Umbrea, vampire aristocrats with dominion over night and nobility."**
Evara moved with the fluid grace of predator who had never known fear, her pale skin seeming to absorb light rather than reflect it. She walked without sparing a glance for the crowd, her back straight with the pride of countless generations, her eyes holding the cold calculation of someone who viewed the world as her birthright.
**"This is beneath me... but I suppose some traditions must be fulfilled."**
Her voice carried the aristocratic disdain of someone who had never doubted her place at the top of the world's hierarchy. Whispers of awe and intimidation followed her presence like a shadow, the crowd instinctively recognizing the aura of ancient power that clung to her like perfume.
--
{ Zone 7 – Honor's Champion }
The seventh portal rumbled open with the sound of distant thunder, and from it emerged a figure who seemed carved from legend itself. Rokhan Zokhul stood tall and proud, his beastkin heritage evident in every line of his powerful frame, but it was the nobility of his bearing that truly set him apart.
**"Zone Seven shakes with primal might—Rokhan Zokhul! Born from the beastkin line of Zokhul, forged in instinct, raised by honor! You can't find a more chivalrous man than him in the entire Tower!"**
Rokhan stepped forward and bowed deeply toward the crowd, then turned to offer the same respect to his fellow contestants. His eyes held the kind of sincerity that had become rare in the Tower's political landscape.
**"To my future rivals—may we meet with courage and leave with honor."**
His voice rumbled with genuine warmth and respect, causing some in the crowd to gasp at such unexpected chivalry. Others began to applaud, inspired by his dignified bearing in a world that often rewarded only strength and cunning.
---
{ Zone 8 – Dragon's Impatience }
The eighth portal crackled with barely contained power, and through it walked a figure whose very presence seemed to make the air itself bend. Zephyr Karshem moved with the fluid arrogance of someone born to rule, his dragon heritage evident in the way space seemed to warp subtly around him.
**"The cold storm of Zone Eight —Zephyr Karshem!"**
**"Born of ancient dragon blood, pride runs in his veins like flame. He doesn't speak much—but when he does, the people listens."**
Zephyr's arms remained crossed as he surveyed the arena with visible irritation, his foot tapping with the impatience of someone accustomed to having the world bend to his schedule. The screens flickered slightly, as if reacting to the suppressed pressure of his draconic heritage.
**"Why hasn't this started yet? I didn't come here to wait..."**
His voice was flat, bored, carrying the kind of casual arrogance that came from never having met a challenge worthy of his full attention. The very air around him seemed to thicken with potential violence.
---
{ Zone 9 – Beautiful Madness }
The ninth portal exploded open with chaotic energy, and from it bounded a figure who seemed to embody joy and violence in equal measure. Noah Varnok didn't walk onto the stage—he danced, backflipped, and cartwheeled with the manic energy of someone who found the world endlessly entertaining.
**"Zone Nine brings us madness incarnate—Noah Varnok!"**
**"From the twisted brilliance of House Varnok, this cheerful lunatic wants one thing: a rival worth destroying!"**
Noah landed in a perfect backflip, arms spread wide, his grin so genuine and terrifying that half the crowd cheered while the other half instinctively stepped back from their screens.
**"All of you! Come at me, together or one by one—I'll crush every last one and love every second of it!"**
His voice rang with pure delight, the kind of joy that most people reserved for festivals and celebrations. The fact that he found such happiness in the prospect of violence made him infinitely more dangerous than any amount of cold fury could have.
---
**THE DARK HORSE**
### { Zone 10 – The Masked Mystery }
The final portal didn't open with fanfare or spectacle. It simply... appeared, as if reality had quietly stepped aside to make room for something that preferred to remain unseen. From this unremarkable entrance walked a figure who seemed to absorb attention rather than command it.
DJ Razzel Vox's voice rose to a crescendo, finally reaching the moment everyone had been waiting for.
**"And now... from Zone Ten... the name that broke records, lit fires across the Tower, and never once showed his face..."**
**"And you all are waiting for and came here to see—THE MASKED MONSTER, THE DARK HORSE OF THE NEWBIE TRIALS—RYU JIN-SEOK!"**
**"No known family. No guild. No sponsor. And yet... he cleared four nightmare trials back-to-back!"**
**"A ghost in the rankings—but a storm in the arena!"**
Ryu Jin-Seok leaned against the arena wall with his arms folded, his mask revealing nothing, his posture suggesting he'd rather be anywhere else. He didn't acknowledge the crowd, didn't play to the cameras, didn't even seem to notice the deafening roar that greeted his appearance.
His silence was more powerful than any of the grand speeches that had come before. While others had proclaimed their intentions, boasted of their heritage, or promised victory, he simply... existed. And somehow, that quiet presence commanded more respect than all the theatrics combined.
The crowd screamed louder for his stillness than they had for anyone else's grandstanding, sensing that they were witnessing something unprecedented—a competitor who truly didn't care about their approval, their expectations, or their opinions.
In a world where everyone fought for recognition, Ryu Jin-Seok's indifference was the most powerful statement of all.
---
{ The Storm Gathers }
As the introductions concluded and the ten champions took their positions, the arena fell into a pregnant silence. These weren't just competitors—they were the living embodiments of the Tower's future, each carrying the weight of bloodlines, expectations, and dreams that stretched back generations.
The Golden Generation had finally stepped into the light, and the Tower would never be the same.
*History begins now.*
_________________
And so… the stage was set.
Ten prodigies. Ten paths. Each one blazing with potential, burdened with expectation, or cloaked in secrets.
Some bore ancient bloodlines.
Others carried grudges, doubts… or masks hiding truths the Tower had yet to name.
Dante, who fights to break free from a legacy of fists and fire.
Lucien, who hides a fragile soul behind gold-threaded bravado.
Elina, who walks the line between serenity and sorrow.
Zayna, who lives with a voice split in two.
Kaleon, who counts hearts like coins.
Evara, who rules even when she does not speak.
Rokhan, who dreams of honor in a dishonorable world.
Zephyr, who yawns at fate and waits for a fight that can wake him up.
Noah, who would laugh even as the world burns.
And then… him.
The boy in the mask who said nothing.
Who needed no sponsor, no stage, no spotlight.
Whose silence cracked louder than thunder
Ryu Jin-Seok. The Tower's Dark Horse.
As their footsteps echo through the grand arena… the world watches. Wonders. Whispers.
Who will rise?
Who will fall?
And who… was never meant to be part of this story to begin with?
The Tower has chosen its players. The Trial begins.
But somewhere, far above the noise and neon…
something ancient stirs. Watching not the crowd, but the mask.
Because sometimes, the one who says the least…
has already begun to change everything.
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{An Original Series by Celestial Raven}