Within the lamp-lit halls of the academy, a spacious dorm room with four beds served as the hangout spot for Elizabeth, Lloyd, and Darian. The air was warm with chatter, their voices echoing faintly against the stone walls.
Darian, lounging on his bed with restless energy, broke the silence first. "That new kid is something else! Did you hear? He's got a recommendation letter from Princess Althea herself!" His tone carried a sharp edge of envy, though he masked it with a grin.
Elizabeth leaned forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Yeah, I wonder how he pulled that off! Nobody just gets Althea's favor." She twirled a strand of her hair as she spoke, clearly intrigued.
Lloyd sat at the far end, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the floor. He kept quiet, though inside his thoughts boiled. Why is everyone treating him like some kind of legend already? His jaw clenched as determination sparked in his chest. I'll prove to everyone that I'm the stronger one. I'll crush him in the competition.
As if on cue, Darian shifted topics, his voice rising with excitement. "Speaking of which, I heard there's a contest in three days. And the reward—a good amount of rank 2 Nyx!"
That caught everyone's attention. All three were already rank 2, hard-earned through two grueling years in the academy. Every Nyx they possessed had been clawed for through blood, sweat, and endless academy trials.
Elizabeth's healing path was already remarkable—her hands could knit minor wounds closed in moments, her collection of rank 2 healing Nyx complemented by a rare shielding Nyx that gave her the strength to protect as well as heal. Darian, with his wood path, commanded roots and vines like living extensions of himself, his power versatile and reliable. And then there was Lloyd—fire path, fiery both in power and in spirit. He had the least rank 2 Nyx among them, yet his raw talent and force made him undeniably the strongest of the trio.
But Nyx were fickle things. When a trainee obtained one, luck determined whether it matched their path or not. A perfect match could elevate them in power—an unmatched Nyx, however, was mostly sold for profit.
So the three friends struck a pact, as they often did. "If one of us wins and the Nyx fits another's path, we hand it over," Darian said, nodding firmly. Elizabeth agreed with a gentle smile, while Lloyd smirked with burning confidence. "And if not," he added, "we sell it. Easy."
Their laughter eased the tension in the room, but beneath it all, each heart burned with ambition—especially Lloyd's, whose silent vow echoed louder than any spoken word.
…
The academy fell quiet as night deepened. With the chatter of students gone, the long corridors seemed calmer, almost soothing. The faint glow of lanterns traced soft shadows along the stone and marble walls, painting the place in a tranquil stillness that was rarely felt during the day.
By the time the first light of dawn reached the academy, Naro had yet to rest. Instead, he had spent the hours walking the grounds, studying every corner and passage, memorizing the layout with a precision born of habit. He knew what he was looking for—the Light Travel Nyx, said to be hidden somewhere within these walls. In his past life, he had only ever heard rumors of its existence, and though he had narrowed down several possible locations, none gave him certainty.
He let out a long sigh. The truth was clear: finding it now meant little. Even if he stumbled upon its resting place, he could not yet use it. Rank 4 was the absolute minimum required to withstand its power, and even then, attempting to wield it was like stepping onto the edge of a blade, courting death. Even if they managed to physical damage it also damages the soul. Only someone prepared to risk everything could even attempt it.
For now, his focus had to remain simpler—break through to rank 2. The upcoming competition would be his chance. If he won, the Nyx awarded as prizes would give him exactly what he needed to advance, cutting a years worth of time for growth.
The academy's design allowed the best to rise swiftly. Six years was all it gave—a mere two years for each realm, a pace considered nearly impossible anywhere else in the world. Yet here, it was expected of the most gifted. The opportunity was great, but the success rate was low, many finish the six years and would barely even make it to rank 3, they'd end up in a weaker clan and position within the kingdom. Naro, however, doesn't care for serving the kingdom or securing a "stable future." All that mattered was exploiting its resources for himself.
His mind drifted to the past. In his previous life, reaching rank 4 had taken him over twenty years of relentless struggle, scavenging for both resources and knowledge. His rise had only begun after crossing paths with Dracula. The vampire's power had been dangerous, but it had also been a gift—a doorway into the blood path that carried with it a frightening speed of growth. Without that chance, he might never have escaped obscurity.
This time, however, things were different. He had foresight, the academy's resources, and the will to seize what was once beyond him. Where before he had crawled, now he would soar.
His mind twisted further into the past, Naro clearly remembered how Lloyd's fate had shifted overnight—the boy's rise began the moment he seized a rare fire-path rank 3 nyx, plucked from the prize pool of a grand battle royale held a year from now. That single gain had propelled him far beyond his peers.
This time, Naro would not allow history to play out the same way. He would walk the academy's path as expected—attending classes, following the training regimens, blending in with the flow. But beneath that mask of obedience, he was already mapping the future. The battle royale would be the true stage where his schemes began, where he would twist fate itself and steal opportunities that once belonged to others.
As the sun reached its peak above the academy, Naro finally pushed open the door to his assigned dormitory. The room was spacious, much like the ones given to the other students—four neatly made beds, sturdy desks pushed against the walls, and a single wide window spilling in the warm sun light.
Inside, two of his new roommates were already waiting.
A young girl with striking purple hair jumped up from her seat, her eyes sparkling as if she had been waiting just for him.
"You're the new guy! I can't believe you had the courage to stand in front of Thalgor like that!" she said, practically bouncing with excitement. Her cheerful tone and the innocent way her face lit up left little doubt about her kind-hearted nature.
"Oh—sorry, I'm Elara by the way!" she added with a shy laugh.
Beside her, a boy leaned back casually in his chair, arms folded behind his head. His relaxed posture carried no judgment, just an easygoing presence.
"I'm Markus," he said with a grin, his tone cool and laid back.
Naro returned their warmth with a wide, disarming smile.
"Thank you! I'm Naro, it's nice to meet the both of you."
The introductions flowed smoothly into chatter, and before long, the three of them found themselves walking together through the busy corridors of the academy.
Their first stop was a basic combat class held in one of the training courtyards. Students sparred in pairs while instructors barked corrections from the sidelines. Markus, who wielded a simple spear, fought with surprising balance for someone so calm in demeanor.
"You make it look easy," Naro commented, watching him deflect an opponent's strike.
Markus smirked and shrugged. "It's all about rhythm. Don't fight the weapon—flow with it."
Elara, meanwhile, wielded twin short blades. Her movements weren't the most polished, but her strikes carried determination, and whenever her sparring partner stumbled, she would immediately pause to help them back up with a cheerful, "You okay?" Her warmth drew smiles even from those who had just been struck by her wooden blades.
Naro observed with genuine admiration—or at least, that's what his smile conveyed. Inside, his thoughts briefly diverged. Kindness, trust, warmth… how simple they all are to win over. these people barely have any experience.
But the thought passed quickly, tucked neatly behind his friendly expression. Outwardly, he laughed lightly when Elara teased him about how quiet he was being.
"Don't tell me you're shy after facing Thalgor of all people!" she said.
"Maybe I save my courage for the important moments," Naro replied, his smile shining, drawing another laugh from both her and Markus.
The day unfolded in a blur of lessons and exploration. They attended a lecture on nyx theory, where Markus half-dozed through the long explanations, whispering jokes under his breath to keep Naro awake. Elara, meanwhile, scribbled meticulous notes, occasionally leaning over to whisper explanations when Naro acted confused about a term.
Later, the trio shared a meal in the academy's grand dining hall. Students crowded the long wooden tables, the air filled with the buzz of chatter and the clatter of utensils. Markus leaned back with a plate piled high.
"Rule number one!" he said with a grin, "never trust the academy food. It's different every day, and never in a good way."
Elara laughed softly, passing him a loaf of bread. "Don't listen to him, it's not that bad. You'll get used to it, Naro."
And through it all, Naro matched their laughter, answered their questions, and played the part of a young man just beginning to find his place among the beauty of friendships. By the time evening settled and they returned to their dorm, the air between them already felt lighter, more familiar.
When Elara bid them goodnight with a cheerful smile and Markus lazily collapsed onto his bed, Naro lay awake for a moment longer. The ceiling above was dark, shadows stretched across the wooden beams.
They think I'm one of them.
And with that fleeting thought, he closed his eyes, his smile still faintly lingering as if the act had already become second nature.
The next morning, the academy courtyard buzzed with anticipation. The air filled with shouts and chatter, boots stretching against the packed dirt as trainees stretched, warmed up, and bragged about who would come out on top. Excitement lit every face—today was no ordinary training. Today was the rank 2 nyx competition.
At the center of the wide ring stood the rank 4 instructor: a bulky man with short black hair, his frame packed with solid muscle and an aura of metal path energy radiating faintly from his skin. His presence alone made the younger students stiffen. But when he grinned, it sent ripples of fire through the crowd.
"For today's contest," his voice boomed, "we're carrying a one-on-one wrestling tournament! No weapons, no fancy tricks—just your strength, your determination, and your will to stand! Whoever remains standing at the end will claim victory!"
The courtyard erupted. Cheers, laughter, even a few taunts flared from the trainees as they stamped their feet in excitement.
Naro stood among them, his hands tucked casually behind his back, his roommates on either side. Markus rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck with the laid-back grin he always wore—but there was a competitive gleam in his eyes that Naro hadn't seen before.
"Finally something fun," Markus muttered. "Been itching to put someone in the dirt."
Elara, on the other hand, was nearly bouncing in place. Her purple hair shimmered in the sunlight as she tightened her gloves. "Oh, this is perfect! Strength against strength—it's simple, fair, and I won't hold back just because we're friends, Naro!"
Naro chuckled softly, playing the part of an eager participant. "Of course not. Winner takes all, right?" His grin matched theirs easily, but inside he noted how fiercely they wanted this. Good. That drive will only make them easier to read later.
Across the courtyard, Lloyd and Darian were already standing together. Both looked ready—more than ready—for a fight. Lloyd stretched his arms with casual confidence, while Darian smirked at anyone who made eye contact.
Elizabeth, however, lingered at the edge of the group, arms crossed tightly. She had been curious when the competition was first announced, but at the mention of wrestling her expression soured.
"Physical contests aren't really my strength," she murmured to herself, lips pressed in thought. The idea of brute grappling clearly didn't suit her style, and she stepped back, shaking her head.
The rules, though, made the tournament fair. Every student would wrestle with the use of the same type of nyx—an enhancement designed to balance out minor differences in physical conditioning, so the match came down to skill and spirit. Rank 1 and rank 2 competitors would fight on even ground, at least for the most part.
The higher-ranked students, those in the rare rank 3 and above, and didn't bother to join. The gap between realms was too vast—what use was a rank 2 nyx to them? The higher you climbed, the more impossible the gap became, until one rank was a world apart from the next.The gaps between the realms grow bigger and bigger as you progress through the realms, for example: the gap between Rank 2 to Rank 3 is way bigger compared to rank 1 to rank 2.
Still, for those standing here, it was a chance at real advancement. For some, even a turning point.
The metal path instructor raised his arm, his voice cutting through the thunder of the crowd.
"Everyone ready?"
The trainees stomped in rhythm, a deafening roar filling the courtyard.
The teacher's grin widened. He swept his gaze across the eager faces—at Lloyd's sharp smirk, Elara's bright determination, Markus's lazy readiness, Naro's calm smile, and dozens of other hopefuls.
"Then—" he slammed his fist into the air like a hammer striking an anvil—
"LET THE TOURNAMENT BEGIN!"
The roar that followed shook the stones of the courtyard.