Ashern City - Reinhart Institute of War, 1st of Brightforge, year 315 UC

"Now, if you would all look at your cards, you'll notice a number appearing. This will be your team assignment."

Octavius announced.

"A reminder, those seated in the same row as you will be your teammates for the duration of this camp. While I urge you to work together through all the trials to come, do not forget—only a select few of you will make it to graduation once the academic year begins. Your teammate today could very well be your rival tomorrow."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the students.

"Take precautions. Study up. Know who you’re sitting beside… because they might be the one to take you out."

Octavius turned on his heel without waiting for a response, nodding curtly at the instructors before striding out of the gymnasium.

Bryan couldn't help but chuckle to himself at Octavius's remark.

Studying up on people was something he's been doing for a long time now, so it was interesting to see the old man bring it up.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him that survival here would demand more than brute strength or cleverness. It was a game of anticipation and control. He doubted anyone in this camp could remove him from the academy—at least, not without killing him first.

'Not going back to the Inquisition anytime soon.'

He thought as his expression darkened.

Freedom was a fragile thing, and he intended to keep it for as long as possible.

Because when he goes back every action he'd make would be under watch. There would no longer be a chance to go where he wanted when he wanted.

Like a loyal dog on a short leash.

The golden numbers materializing on his card snapped him out of his thoughts. The shimmering "3" confirmed his team assignment, and he caught the mix of groans, sighs, and faint cheers as others discovered their own.

'Alan Walker's team.'

He thought as he eyed the man who was yawning up ahead.

Bryan’s lip curled slightly. Out of all the instructors, Walker seemed the least useful. Lock or Gloria, on the other hand, could have offered real insight. Even Silvia Grace, with her insider knowledge of magitech, might’ve been a better pick. But a survivalist? On the battlefield, when overwhelming power came into play, survival skills were as useful as a knife to a duel with cannons.

One of his former teachers had once said, Kill them before they kill you. Anyone left standing will fall like flies. Bryan lived by that philosophy. To survive, you didn’t outlast your enemy—you outthought and destroyed them before they could become a threat.

You study them before you attack them, because if you know yourself and know them, then you are unbeatable.

Only a fool would think otherwise.

"Guess we're with Alan."

Alexander muttered beside him, shaking his head.

Bryan didn’t reply, though he caught the hint of disappointment in Sabrina’s expression as she studied her own card. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she cast a wistful glance toward Silvia Grace.

"I was hoping…"

She trailed off, the unspoken words lingering in the air.

"Yeah, I know."

Alexander replied, his tone resigned.

"You’re not the only one. Honestly, though, I thought we’d get Gloria."

Alexander commented as he took a glance at the woman was headed out the door without even waiting for the students assigned to her.

He couldn't help but watch as the team with all the top rankers started to follow after her.

It felt odd, to see a bunch of high-ranking nobles being given the right to study under Gloria. It felt even worse when he thought about Julius Reinhart being there, under another Reinhart.

The boy probably had a lot of teachers at his home he studied under for years, and it did not seem like that was going to change.

For a moment Alexander found himself glancing down at his academic card to see if this was real. He knew it was, but was this how things were?

Was it truly random?

Christopher merely grunted, clearly sharing Alexander's disappointment about missing out on Gloria's instruction.

"Everyone, please move to join your assigned instructors if you haven't already started to. They will direct you from there."

Silvia shouted.

As students began to rise and move about the gym, Alan Walker spoke up.

"Team three, remain seated here in the gymnasium. The rest of you, follow your instructors."

The sound of footsteps and chatter gradually faded as the gymnasium cleared out, leaving Team Three alone with their instructor. Alan nodded once as he looked them over, another yawn escaping his lips. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin blue academic card identical to the ones they'd been given.

With a lazy tap of his finger, he began scrolling through whatever information was displayed on its surface.

"Ah, alright then."

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Alexander scratched his head, a gesture that caught Bryan's attention. Alan tucked the academic card away and addressed the group.

"Let’s get introductions out of the way."

He said, gesturing broadly.

"You know who I am, and I know who you are, but let’s make this formal, shall we?"

He swept a hand toward Farrah.

"State your name, why you enrolled here at the Reinhart Institute of War, and what your goal is after becoming a mage. You first."

"I am Farrah Heartland. My father suggested I enroll here, but I also hope to expand my understanding beyond just military strategy."

She paused briefly, choosing her words carefully.

"I believe there's more to our world's history than what we're taught, especially regarding magic. My goal is to uncover these truths, and... to help others realize their full potential, especially those whose abilities others might overlook or dismiss."

"Not sure what kind of truths you're hoping to discover but your goal is admirable I guess. I suggest you expand your sight, as there is a lot more out there than just what's in this city or this kingdom. If you are looking for answers, your path might lead you to the Special Missions Group."

He didn’t elaborate, instead waving a hand toward Alexander. "You next."

Alexander fidgeted with his sleeve before speaking.

"Alexander Silvermark, sir. I enrolled because I believe that when it comes to being a mage, status doesn't matter – it's about ability and how you use it. Everyone back home always said I'd be something when I grew up."

A small smile crossed his face.

"When I heard about this new academy becoming the next top institution in Roan, I knew this was my chance. As for my goal after becoming a mage..."

He shrugged.

"I want to see how far I can climb, both in the military and beyond. I want to know my limits."

"The military has a lot of branches, and within them, you'll find different divisions, each with their own specialty. You're not the only one seeking to climb high but look around you. Each of these people here will be climbing that same ladder once you all graduate."

Alan paused for a second before correcting himself.

"If you graduate. You think you'll be able to step over them with the way you currently are?"

Alexander's smile faltered as his eyes looked away from Alan.

Alan clicked his tongue.

"I could really care less of how far you'll go, but if you want to go anywhere you'll need to have a kill-or-be-killed mindset. Because out there in the real world, you can't hide behind these fancy walls, the only thing you can trust is yourself and your teammates. A bit of advice, don't be a glory seeker."

"Alright, next."

Alan turned his attention to Sabrina.

She leaned forward in her chair.

"Sabrina Rigof. Like Alexander said, a brand new academy with top instructors seemed like the perfect opportunity to grow. Plus, everyone here must be special if they made it in. I thought it'd be nice to connect with others like that."

She gestured around the gymnasium, before gazing at Alan.

"As for what I want to do as a mage... honestly, what's the point of that question? Most of us have barely been mages for a year. My family wants me to inherit their magitech business, and I'm interested in that field, but beyond that?"

She shrugged.

"Isn't that what we're here to figure out?"

"This isn’t a place to make connections. We’re not training you to be social butterflies. But, you’re right about one thing—everyone here is special. You, the rest of this team, and the others out there. The twenty of you probably think you’re the best of the best because you made it into this camp, a month ahead of the rest."

Alan looked at each one of them before speaking again. There was no smile on his face.

"But let me tell you something—you’re not special. You’re here because you showed starting abilities that piqued the interest of an examiner. Some of you are here because your families bribed someone. Others because your magic attributes are rare. But the real talent? The monsters whose names will one day echo across the kingdom? They might be out there somewhere, waiting to bloom. A late bloomer could outshine every single one of you by the time this academy is done with them."

Alan pointed a finger at the five of them seated.

"You five—and the other fifteen—they picked you because you look like you have potential. But here’s the kicker: they might’ve been wrong. You could already be at your peak."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a humorless smile.

"Imagine that: sitting here, ranked in the top twenty, and failing your first year."

A low chuckle escaped him as he scanned their reactions. Some shifted uncomfortably, while others stared back, lips tight and jaws clenched. All except one boy—Bryan. His expression remained utterly neutral, his red eyes unflinching.

"As for ambition…"

Alan continued, his voice cooling.

"That’s your call. But I’d think fast if I were you. These three years will fly by. And when you join the ranks of the military…"

He snorted.

"You better have something in mind. No one’s going to hold your hand out there. Unless you want to be fodder—used and forgotten."

He turned sharply toward Bryan.

"You. Introduce yourself."

"Bryan Blackwood."

Bryan stated flatly.

"A friend suggested I come here. Said I'd find what I'm looking for."

His red eyes held no particular emotion as he continued.

"As for what I want to do?"

He shrugged.

"Nothing, really. I'm not interested in the military, or magitech research, or studying different forms of magic. I just want to sit in my room, lay back, and relax."

Alan raised an eyebrow.

"That would be a serious waste of potential."

He commented.

"But it's your life, do what you want. Whatever it is you're searching for..."

He paused, studying Bryan's expressionless face.

"Hopefully you'll find it."

Without another word, he turned his attention to Christopher.

"Christopher Vane. I enrolled because it’s close by. That’s all. If I hadn’t been accepted, I’d have just gone to another military academy in Ashern."

Alan waited, his stare pressing for more, but Christopher simply shrugged when asked about his goals.

"Don’t have any."

Christopher said simply.

"Ambition? Too much or too little—it doesn’t matter. We’re all just threads in a sweater. Too small to matter on our own but necessary for the whole thing to exist. Our purpose? It’ll either be given to us or we’ll find it on our own. No use worrying about it."

Alan studied him for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, though whether it was amusement or disdain was unclear.

Alan rolled his shoulder and cracked his neck.

"How good it is to be young."

He said, a fleeting smile crossing his face before fading.

He glanced at the students, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You know, it wasn’t always like this. This peace you enjoy now—it’s a luxury. Living in this kingdom during its most peaceful age, not worrying about war or monsters. Sure, you’ll face your share, but not like we did. Not like I did."

Alan grabbed one of the empty chairs, spinning it around before plopping down unceremoniously. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the backrest.

"When I was your age, thirty years ago, you know what I was doing?"

He chuckled dryly.

"Running for my life. Killing monsters, killing people—or doing all three at the same damn time. I didn’t pray for glory, or riches, or anything like that. The only thing I prayed for was to wake up the next day so I could do it all over again."

Sabrina started to raise her hand, but Alan waved it off before she could speak, dismissing her question with a flick of his fingers.

"Back then, things were different."

He continued.

"A lot different. Sure, we had walls, and yeah, we had magic. But if you had powers? It didn’t matter how old you were—you got thrown to the front lines. Didn’t matter if you were ready. We needed firepower, and we needed it now. So yeah, it must be real nice to sit here with your pretty uniforms and no ambition."

He laughed again, the sound harsh and humorless, before licking his lips and leaning in closer.

"You think you’re safe here?"

His voice dropped.

"Sure, climb into your cozy little bed tonight. Let Mommy tuck you in and read you that bedtime story you love so much. But just know, that’s only possible because people like me bled so you wouldn’t have to. You’ve been sheltered, protected from the horrors we faced. But make no mistake—those horrors are still out there. And one day, you’ll face them. When that day comes…"

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His smile returned.

"Well, let’s just say you’ll wish you never awakened those powers of yours."

Alan brushed dust off his shoulder with a casual flick and clasped his hands behind his back, pacing slowly.

"Let me reintroduce myself. I’m Alan Walker. Monster hunter. Survivalist. Duelist with a magical aptitude for gravity magic. And here’s the thing—"

His gaze swept over the group.

"I don’t take failure lightly."

He let the words hang in the air, his eyes scanning the students seated before him. A pitiful bunch, he thought. They had no clue what awaited them beyond the bubble of safety they’d been born into. But they would. By the time he was done with them, they’d understand.

Sabrina raised her hand again, more hesitantly this time. Alan nodded, giving her permission to speak.

"What was it like back then? Back when you first awakened?"

It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked that question. Kids always wanted to know what it was like before the shields went up, before the monsters were pushed back. He never sugarcoated it.

"You’ve heard of the deep caverns, I assume. The place where all the monsters came from—or used to, anyway. Back then, you couldn’t trust anyone. Not your mother, your father, your brother, or your sister. No one."

Confusion flickered across their faces, but Alan continued, undeterred.

"There was a monster,, when it killed someone, it could take their shape. It didn’t just mimic their appearance—it mimicked their voice. Perfectly. Some even said it inherited their memories."

He let the words sink in, watching their expressions shift from curiosity to unease.

"Imagine that."

He said, his tone almost conversational.

"Something that looks like your mother, talks like her, bakes your favorite cake, and tells you the sweetest things. And just when you start to feel safe, when you let your guard down…"

His hand cut through the air like a blade.

"Its face splits open. And then? It rips you to shreds, leaving nothing but a bloody mess."

Alexander’s throat tightened, his mouth dry as he struggled to find the words. Slowly, he raised his hand, hesitant but compelled to ask.

Alan gave him a curt nod, signaling him to speak.

"S-So… they’re all dead? The monsters you talked about?"

Alexander stammered, his voice barely steady.

Alan threw his head back and laughed—a sharp, almost mocking sound that echoed in the gymnasium. His shoulders shook with the force of it, and when he finally stopped, there was a glint of dark amusement in his eyes.

"Dead? Ha! What gave you that idea?"

He asked, his tone dripping with irony.

Alexander frowned, confused.

"You said that’s what you had to face back then… so… doesn’t that mean…?"

He trailed off, stumbling over his words. Alan’s smirk widened, but there was no warmth in it.

"That’s just one of the horrors we faced."

Alan said.

"But let me ask you this: how could we—or how would we—know if we got them all? A monster that can take someone’s appearance, their voice, their personality. How can you be sure you’ve killed every last one of them?"

He paused, letting the question hang in the air, his gaze locking on Alexander like a predator watching prey.

"If you figure that out, let me know. It’d be one less thing for me to worry about when I try to sleep at night."

Alexander’s hand slowly fell to his side, his face pale.

"You planning on talking all day, or are you going to teach us something?"

Bryan asked Alan as he leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed.

Alan regarded him with a faint smile, nodding once.

"Right. Teach. Guess that is what I’m here for, isn’t it?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the group.

"Alright then."

He said after a moment.

"Let’s see what each of you can do. Move these chairs out of the way. One by one, you’re going to demonstrate your abilities."