The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

The coliseum was alive with murmurs and hushed speculation. Torches flickered in the growing darkness, casting wavering silhouettes on the sand. Fifteen trainees had survived the battle, and one by one they had been called to step forward and choose an armed group. Now, after the swirl of frantic selections, Melo's voice rose once more:

"Alex Lionhart!"

A wave of anticipation washed over the crowd. Trainees who had already joined their new units looked on with curiosity, while those still waiting watched with mounting tension. Alex walked into the center of the arena, calm on the outside, but inside he felt a tangle of pride and vexation. He couldn't believe he was called before Nicholas, a stark sign that Nicholas must have outperformed him in the wave. That realization stung, but he forced his features into a neutral mask.

Every captain in the stands raised a hand without hesitation. A ripple of astonishment went through the spectators. Members of various armed groups turned to one another, exclaiming in awe.

"All of them?"

"He truly fought like a lion! I saw him take down at least eight wolves singlehandedly."

"He's fearless! I'd love to have him in my unit."@@novelbin@@

Alex's heart thudded. Despite his lingering frustration, a measure of satisfaction welled up at being in such high demand. Before he could speak, several captains began calling out to him, each hoping to sway him to their cause.

A tall man with silver hair called from the upper row: "Young Lionhart, I'm Captain Rannon of the Iron Lancers. Our unit is renowned for its discipline. Join us, and you'll have every resource to hone your potential."

Next came a woman in a teal tunic: "I am Captain Elys of the Viper Fangs. We emphasize fast promotions for proven warriors. With your skills, you'd rise through the ranks quickly."

Another voice, deep and assured, piped up from the middle seats: "Captain Tyrus of the Black Wolves. We have strong ties across the Rikxia empire. You'd gain political favor as well as advanced training. You'd be an asset to us."

Others chimed in, but Alex's attention flicked to the figure of Yenova Lionhart, seated calmly among the captains. The famed leader of Éclair, she had given no spiel—hadn't even spoken. Yet her eyes locked with Alex's, and suddenly a light pressure touched his mind.

**Join me**, a quiet telepathic voice said, filled with confidence. **You're my nephew, after all. I know your strengths, and you will flourish under Éclair's banner. We're the finest unit in Rikxia—no one can deny that.**

Alex blinked, taken aback by the mental message, but it provoked a surge of warmth. Yenova's face remained composed, though she offered him the faintest smile. Despite the polite clamor of the other captains, Alex knew his choice was made.

Clearing his throat, he glanced around. "Thank you, Captains, for these offers," he said, forcing a level tone. "I appreciate them all. But I... I choose to join Éclair, under Captain Yenova Lionhart."

A burst of applause exploded from the stands, especially from the section belonging to Éclair. Cheers and excited whispers rippled outward:

"He picked Éclair—makes sense, that's the top group."

"I'd have chosen them too, if I had the chance!"

"Smart move. He's guaranteed a bright future there."

Rannon of the Iron Lancers bowed his head gracefully, while Elys of the Viper Fangs shrugged in disappointment. Captain Tyrus exhaled, almost as if saying "I tried." They each respected Alex's choice, albeit with regret. Yenova gave a nod from her seat, satisfaction playing at the corners of her mouth. Alex stepped back to the forming line of newly chosen trainees, feeling a wave of relief tempered by the lingering sting that Nicholas had somehow ranked higher than him.

Once the cheers calmed, Melo's cold voice rose again: "Next—Nicholas Davoss!"

A fresh hush washed over the coliseum. Dozens of gazes locked onto Nicholas, who stepped into the sandy clearing with measured composure. The memory of his lightning-fast strikes in the second wave was still fresh in everyone's minds. Without hesitation, every captain in the stands raised a hand again, the same unanimous vote that Alex had received. The crowd gasped, a sense of déjà vu running through them.

"You're even more impressive than I realized," called Captain Rannon. "If you join the Iron Lancers, we'd push you to become an officer within a year."

Captain Elys of the Viper Fangs nodded sharply, her tone brimming with ambition. "I can guarantee quick promotions for someone like you. Prestige, top-tier missions, everything you want if you choose us."

Tyrus of the Black Wolves interjected: "We have close connections to the empire's high nobility. Join my force, and you'll gain influence wherever you go. Given your performance, Nicholas, you'd be unstoppable with the right resources."

Applause rippled among their supporters. Even Yenova held her hand up, voice calm: "Nicholas Davoss, you saw that Éclair is the most renowned group here. We'd welcome your talents wholeheartedly. Our name alone grants you respect anywhere in Rikxia."

The trainees, especially those who had fought alongside Nicholas, exchanged looks. Everyone assumed he would pick Éclair, the group he had originally aimed for—or so they presumed. The crowd began to murmur in anticipation of a swift announcement.

Nicholas let out a slow breath, memories of the wave dancing behind his eyes. He hadn't admitted it to anyone, but he carried knowledge from beyond just this trial—knowledge that told him he needed a seat of power soon. Not just any seat, but one that would let him climb the ladder with minimal obstacles. He considered each captain's words, gauging which group offered the best path to the rank he craved. And ironically, the group that might help him ascend fastest to a politically strong position was not the most prestigious, nor the top rated. Precisely because it was lesser recognized, Nicholas believed he could stand out more starkly there, face less competition, and build alliances without overshadowing seniors who might feel threatened.

"I appreciate every offer," Nicholas began, his voice carrying a subtle confidence that made people lean in. "Your groups are all remarkable, and I'm honored you see potential in me. However... I have my own reasons for wanting a certain path."

Murmurs and shifting seats. A few knights in the stands exchanged puzzled glances. Not Éclair?

Nicholas slowly lifted his sword, tapping the hilt with one finger, as though gathering courage. Then, with a small bow of respect to the captains, he declared a group name that few expected—one neither famed like Éclair nor embedded with the empire's top nobility. The coliseum erupted in startled exclamations.

"Wait… did he choose them?"

"That group is decent but hardly top-tier—what's he thinking?"

"He must see some advantage we don't..."

Captain Meros, the leader of the less-celebrated unit Nicholas had named, wore a look of stunned delight, quickly replaced by a wide grin. "Y–Yes, we'd be thrilled to have you!" Meros almost stumbled over his words, but then regained composure, turning to his fellow captains with a playful, triumphant shrug. "I suppose we have new star power now," he teased, earning a few grins and some jealous side-eyes from the other seats.

Nicholas nodded politely, ignoring the commotion around him. The quickest route to influence, he thought to himself. In a more humble group, I can rise to top ranks without stepping on too many powerful toes. Then I can ensure the empire is ready for what's coming…

Although he hadn't shared these thoughts with anyone else, the finality in his gaze said he was certain of his choice. The stands buzzed with excitement and confusion in equal measure, while the trainees who had fought beside him blinked in surprise.

Captain Elys folded her arms. "He turned us down for them?" she muttered, half in disbelief. Tyrus gave a half-chuckle, half-scoff. Yenova raised her eyebrows slightly, though she showed no overt displeasure. Everyone could see that the unassuming Meros was practically glowing, arms crossed confidently now that such a promising recruit had joined his ranks.

Melo stepped forward again, offering Nicholas a nod before glancing down at his list. The coliseum still rumbled with commentary over the unexpected choice. Some watchers whispered that Nicholas might have a personal connection, others thought it a miscalculation. But Nicholas was unflinching, moving away to stand next to the newly joined members of his chosen group.

With a short cough, Melo stilled the crowd. "That leaves one more trainee to call." He paused, scanning faces until his gaze locked on a singular figure standing slightly apart. A hush fell, the crowd poised on the edge of their seats.

"Klaus Lionhart—" he said, voice echoing through the hush. The entire coliseum tensed, and Klaus stepped forward, sword sheathed at his hip, expression unreadable. Eyes turned to him with a renewed sense of anticipation. Nicholas and Alex observed quietly, each harboring different emotions about how this final pick might unfold.

In that breath of silence, the captains leaned forward, ready to raise their hands or hold back, uncertain how the most enigmatic fighter of the wave would respond. And so the night deepened, suspense humming through every flicker of torchlight, waiting for Klaus's name to be weighed.