The Academy of Sereban. An institution no orphan or child of the slums could even approach much less dare dream of attending. Nothing more than a pipedream, a place reserved for those standing on the highest step of society.

And yet of all the people who prayed and dreamt of this place, Victor, a skeptical one of all people, walks down the marble floors. Even with his Blessing guiding most of his decisions and the grueling effort he put into reaching higher in life, never did he dare imagine himself here.

It’s a step, a big one, towards the life he desires. A life so different from the poverty of the slums and the back alleys he called home after his mother passed away, leaving him with only his abusive father… He knows he doesn’t belong here and is often reminded about the fact by the difference in wealth, treatment, and attitude of his fellow students.

Empty barking. Even with the worst hand, it is possible to win the largest pot. You just have to choose the right table.

Opinion without power is worth nothing more than a fart. Nearly everyone attending the Academy is a child of either someone wealthy or with significant authority. The power they command at the moment is negligible, so their stance towards him matters little. But with time that’ll change. There are also a few talented commoners around who clawed their way here by sheer grit, hard labor, and or pure genius.

They carry the least significance.

Victor himself has been trying to keep a low profile. In the first third year or trimester, as they call it here, he learned that aiming to sit at the top draws jealousy and jealousy invites trouble. People find it difficult to accept that someone else is better than them, even more so if that someone is a commoner. The retaliation ranged from simple words and heckling after classes to accidentally forgetting to pull their punches during practice.

The Academy made sure for cheating to be nigh impossible during tests. Bracelets that strip your control over mana, teachers flying overhead, and benches that detect any object containing mana. It was all talent and effort… Except Blessings don’t necessarily require mana. The only thing that stopped Victor from earning a perfect score every time was the importance of the test influencing the accuracy of his Blessing. Still, with some studying and the odds shown by the Skill, he could deduct the correct answer most of the time.

That is until it came to bite him back.

“Not that my grades matter.” He whispers as he arrives at the lecture room for his next subject.

Masterful Conduct of Combat. Despite its idiotic name, the retired general of a professor shares wisdom beyond anything he could ever ask for. The man preaches about insight and preparedness, the importance of information above any military strength.

Victor is not attending this lecture alone, although it doesn’t feel like it most of the time. When he enters the hall August is already sitting in the back, the same hard-to-approach aura oozing from the boy as every day. His personality has always been cold and distant, however, ever since the attack on them last year…

The only person he went out of his way to speak to had always been Elyssia. Not because they were best friends or anything, Gods forbid no. They were rivals, competitive and prideful the both of them. Now that the girl is gone, with her big mouth and sparkling eyes August seems… alone.

Victor still finds a seat near his comrade, even if striking up a conversation is probably both impossible and impractical. The wisdom spoken is worth much more than simple chit-chat even if it's a rarity. Another boy sits down next to them, and they greet each other with a simple nod. Hagen, a dwarf, and replacement sent after their original squad of six was reduced to only three people at the start of the first semester. Milara died, Eli died, and Hugo… Hugo just collapsed. He was too kind for this line of work.

Hagen is the new vanguard of their team, while the other two Lucas and Silvia bolster the backline with their water and metal magic.

With the replacements, the team lost a good deal of its damage and became quite physical-attack heavy, which led to many setbacks and subsequent losses. Besides poor teamwork and the general divide between members.

The Academy offered them additional opportunities during the last tournament to remedy their lacking performance but even that didn’t bring much success. Worse, even the three new kids often voice their complaints quite openly about how anyone learning on their Blessing is a sham. How the wielders of those Skills enjoy an unfair advantage and steal the spotlight from those working harder…

What a load of crap.

Victor and August don't admit to it but they just can't see the replacement members as equals. They were plan B and the only reason the six of them have to work together is because his friends died. They died and their Blessings are the only things to blame, yet people keep acting jealous. They know nothing.

Kayla is Kayla, she tries to befriend anyone and anything, even if her attempts are futile.

“Good evening students.” Echoes the voice of the aged professor as he approaches the podium.

The hall quiets down as all eyes and ears turn to the upcoming lesson. This subject is optional so only those truly invested in learning about the art of war attend.

“Last week we discussed the evolution of cavalry warfare and flanking tactics. As you hopefully remember we steered toward the different beasts used as mounts and the unique approach of certain races. Today we’ll focus on those differences.” Although this topic might no longer be as prominent as it was hundreds or even a thousand years ago since Ebroden today is firmly controlled by human nations almost in its entirety. Nevertheless, a change in perspective can never hurt.” He explains and puts a few wooden figures on the table right next to him.

A human, an elf, a dwarf, an orc, a goblin, a beastman, a figure with wings instead of arms, and lastly a half-human half-horse.

“Most of what I’m about to tell you is knowledge passed down from even before my grandparents’ time. Wars between races used to be the most common type of conflict before human hegemony descended. This is not because we are superior or stronger or smarter… none of that.” He huffs and shakes his head. “Individually humans are second to last, only coming before the goblins really.”

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That statement earned some dissatisfied grumbling from the students. Everyone has their pride and calling their race garbage, despite reality proving otherwise, was difficult to accept.

“Gnomes are arguably weaker but they make up for it with ingenuity and artificery. The human military needs no introduction. Numbers hold the frontline while mages and archers cull the enemy. A balanced approach with moderate risk, easy-to-execute maneuvers, and medicare gear. Average, like humanity in general.”

The figure of a man wearing typical guard armor is placed back on the table and the professor takes another figure into his hand.

“Elves.” He says in a grave tone. “Unlike the unfortunate dwarfs, the uninterested gnomes, or the disorganized orcs and beastmen, elves have all the necessary means to stand their ground on the world stage. Their numbers might be laughable but even I would be considered fairly young among their ranks and as the young say nowadays time equals levels.” He lifts the tiny elf up for everyone to see, bow and a dagger in his hands.

It looks grateful and regal… nothing like Elyssia, much less Kayla.

“They fight like the predators of the jungle, swift, unseen, and deadly. Frontal confrontations were rare, although not unheard of, and even then most of their ranks were made up of tamed beasts, powerful mages, and rangers. The reason we never shiver in fear of elves conquering swaths of land is because nature does not belong to anyone and the elves know that better than anybody. Our numbers and walls mean little against the true monsters of the wilds. This is only our land as long as they allow us to reside here and the elves behave accordingly.”

Vitor grins and shakes his head in silence, unlike the majority of human students who indignantly murmur among themselves. We’re the rodents allowed to live under a rock. Left alive until the rock needs to be moved.

According to him, Kayla is the spitting image of an elf. Eli on the other hand… She was closer to a mix of gnome and orc. From what I understand, elves really are the peaceful type, accepting things as they are, as given by nature and Aelion. Then again Eli was…

“Dwarves.” The lecture doesn’t wait for anyone’s inner musings and so the professor continues. “A formidable force of a bygone era. Their cities weren’t fortified to protect themselves, the cities themselves, Holds as they called them, were the strongholds themselves. The settlements, carved into mountains, were nigh impenetrable just like their fighting style. They didn’t rely on cavalry or archers to thin out the enemy. Dwarves are enduring and so their heavy infantry simply outlasted any opponent they came up against. Mechanical weapons like the catapult, ballista, or repeater crossbows all come from the old dwarven kingdoms since their people preferred a more hardheaded approach than drawing a bow or using magic. Nowadays dwarves live scattered across Eborden and although they have regained some of their numbers after just barely escaping Korellia their sun likely won't ever shine again.”

A tragic story about a race that lost their home. Not the first time Victor sat through a lengthy speech about the Downfall of Korellia and the subsequent evacuation of the continent. Although things might change now with the fleets crossing the Balton Ocean.

The stocky figure is placed back on the table and another is picked up.

“The bane of the south, greenskin, savage warmongers, and many other names are used to describe the orcs. The general hatred towards them however doesn’t stem from their nature or just the fact that they’re different. Conflict is an integral part of their culture, it's how they settle debates and choose leaders. Selecting a partner in life, the size of their hunting grounds, or even the name of a child, it all comes down to who wins the duel.” Despite the clear distaste in the man’s voice, there’s no sign of hate or disdain. “Using their advantage in strength, weight, and resilience the orc resolve to shock tactics or mass charges. Sheer force is the only tool they need to win a confrontation and if one is facing off against a larger warband… That’s when warbeasts and shamans come into play. Trouble is what the orcs are.”

Just as the professor is about to continue playing with the figures, reaching for what seems to be a goblin Victor spots Kayla at the door. She’s peeking into the lecture hall with sparkling eyes clearly looking for someone.

Not again…

When her eyes meet Victor’s her face lights up and she waves him over with less than subtle motions drawing far too many eyes. Despite shaking his head and mouthing ‘CANT. LESSON.’ The girl doesn’t relent and starts pouting instead pointing at both boys and outside with the attitude of an angered mother.

Victor sighs and relays the message to August who just shrugs and goes back to not giving a rat’s ass about anything but the lesson. Convincing the biggest prick without an equal anymore isn’t a task Victor can imagine himself accomplishing without sufficient leverage. He just helplessly shrugs at Kayla when the girl mouths something. ‘MESSAGE. FIST’

“It’s from the Fist, let’s go.” Victor throws all subtlety aside and drags August with him who stops being a pain in the as upon learning about their predicament.

As they step outside Kayla quickly grabs both of them by the arm and drags them towards the nearest balcony.

“What’s all this about? Just report.” August grumbles and tries to fruitlessly free his arm from the vines snaking out from the girl’s sleeves and holding onto them.

Victor doesn’t question the girl's motives. She’s the kindest and purest person he had ever met, an existence he thought to be nothing more than a myth and his first ever true friend. She’s too pure and long as she’s happy nothing else matters.

Once they’re on the far end of the balcony, away from any prying ears and overlooking the majestic city of Sereban Kayla finally seems content. She reaches into her blouse and pulls out a letter.

I think that move is reserved for adult women. Victor laughs silently, after all, Kayla can’t be blamed for being neither young nor an elf. Her airheadedness is a different matter entirely.

The front of the letter reads: August, Kayla, and Victor read together!

The handwriting is clearly Martha’s and the Fist is only meant to send letters at the end of every month to inquire about their progress. This must be something important.

Kayla fumbles with opening the envelope before August snatches it out of her hand and cuts the paper with a lightning-fast swipe of his nail. The girl steals it back with another vine and starts reading.

“Hey, it said together!” Victor protests and pushes up next to her, maybe just to stand closer.

The new squad for next year… blah, blah… two Blessed… powerful… their names are Valka and…

Victor doesn’t believe his eyes as he reads the name again and again… Elyssia. There was only ever one Elyssia, let alone a girl named like that with a Blessing.

“What is it?” August asks in confusion as both the others freeze and Kayla’s eyes begin to tear up.

He snatches the piece of paper and his eyes run down the lines with the same speed he’s able to accomplish almost anything. Disbelief soon takes over his visage before he reads through it again. Then again before his arms go limp and he stays there like a statue.

A moment of silence descends onto the balcony before a squeal growing louder by the second like water boiling in a kettle rings everyone back to reality.

“She’s back!” Kayla screams at the top of her lungs and pulls the other two into an excited hug. “I knew it, I told you!” She sniffs and giggles in happiness.

Victor just stares in front of himself, his sharp mind betraying him after a long time. He has never been this thankful for his Skill to be wrong, for his Blessing to fail him. He still vividly remembers the odds he had seen that day, nightmares haunt him of the chance of Elyssia being alive.

5%

He joins the cheerful giggling and punches August in the shoulder. “Close your mouth you fool. Or are you imagining Eli standing here to spit in it? You’d like that, huh?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” August pulls away with a look of pure disgust. “And I’m not the one crying in case you didn’t notice. The letter said she’s stronger, much stronger. The gap has widened…”

The longest sentence he has spoken in a long time.