“Guys get up!”

Thorne felt a light shake on his shoulder. He bolted up. Gasping for air, he

franticly swiveled his head to search for the disturber of his rest. Last night, when they had been led to this house, Thorne and the rest of the group had been utterly exhausted due to their long trek through the merciless desert.

“Celestial’s tits get your paranoid ass outta bed.” Thorne heard the voice say as he wiped the sleep away from his eyes.

“Fuck you, Zal,” Thorne grumbled as he pulled himself away from the floored mattress that Zal was calling a bed.

“Whatever,” Zal shouted over his shoulder as he went over to the other’s mattresses to wake them, “Eat some food. The job guy will probably be here soon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thorne muttered as he pulled some pasty food out from his spatial storage and consumed it with hunger-induced fervor.

As the others woke, they also ate their food in hasty silence. They couldn’t let anyone know of their surplus lest they be forced to give it up.

“Here they are,” Zal grumbled as a knocking noise sounded outside the sandstone house. “I'll go get it.” The amber cultivator said, heaving himself up with a groan.

“Finish your food quickly,” Thorne whispered to the others as he stood up. If you hear footsteps coming, put it away as fast as possible.”

Thorne left the cramped sleeping area and approached the door where Zal was standing. The man looked back at Thorne with a slightly worried expression and remained wordless.

Zal returned to the stone door and heaved it open, exposing himself to the vast sun. The mesh above the city did its job and prevented the coarse sand from ravaging the citizens, but it was useless against the radiant sun.

As the door opened, the individual who had knocked was revealed. “Hello,” she said with a smile. It was a tanned human woman in her middle years. She was average-sized and stood to about the height of Zal’s shoulders. Adored on her forehead was the typical spectrum crystal of an administrative officer: the teal spectrum of communication and clarity. “I am here to assign jobs. May I come in?” she asked with a disinterested raise of her brows, looking at Zal.

Zal glanced back at Thorne, asking a silent question. Nodding slightly, Thorne stomped away from the two of them and returned toward the rest of the group.

“Excuse my friend, “Thorne heard Zal say in a cordial tone, “He’s just going to wake the others.”

“That’s fine,” Thorne heard the lady chuckle, “Your kind mustn’t be used to the early hours.”

Thorne entered the room and sighed in relief upon noticing the others in their bed, with no food or even crumbs evident.

“Hey, guys!” Thorne shouted, purposely projecting his voice, “Wake up, the job lady is here.”

Moravian was the first to wake up, and the others soon followed his example. In just a couple of seconds, the cramped sleeping area was entirely filled by the presence of the six of them.

“All right, now that everyone’s awake, we can start,” the lady said as she pulled a piece of paper from her pants pocket.

“You, what’s your name dear?” She asked, pointing at Lyra.

Lyra turned her nose up at the question but still complied, “I am Lyra Valtear.” She huffed, crossing her arms.

“Well, Lyra,” the woman said with a beaming smile, “You will have the most rewarding job: a farmer!” The woman exclaimed, “You will be collected and escorted to the farms in a little bit, and your new luxurious abode and payment will be finalized soon.”

Lyra nodded, “And how many hours do I have to work exactly?” she asked pointedly.

“Oh, it's nothing much,” the lady brushed off. As long as you meet the quota, you'll be fine.”

“Quota’s?” Lyra questioned further, raising her brows.

‘Seriously, young lady, don’t worry. All the details will be given to you in no time.' She said with a placating smile, “I'm sure you'll love your job.”

“Oh.” The teal spectrum woman cocked her ear toward the door, “It seems your escort is here. Go out and meet them, don’t worry they’ll treat you with the most respect possible.”

“Very well,” Lyra murmured, reluctantly leaving the room.

“Perfect.” The woman muttered as she withdrew a pen and jotted something down on the paper. “Now, onto you four.” She said, her smile gone, peering at the four remaining students.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“Oh, you first,” the lady pointed at Thorne as she looked at her paper, “Name?” she asked.

“Thorne.” He replied in a blank tone.

“Age?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Perfect, just perfect.” The lady rambled, “Ahem, you will be a teacher for the newly awakened red and amber practitioners. Your escort is outside, and your further details will be relayed to you after you finish your first shift.” She jotted something on her paper again before looking up at Thorne with a scowl, “What?” she said, “Leave!”

“All right,” Thorne sighed, holding his hands up diplomatically. As he trudged out of the room, he leaned over to Zal; “You’ll be fine?” he whispered. The man nodded in response, and Thorne was forced to continue his way out of the house under the eagle eye of the teal-spectrum woman.

Outside, waiting in the bright street, was a single man. He was dressed in the typical garb of the soldiers Thorne had seen: a white overcoat and cap with the standardized submachine gun.

‘So not even a cultivator.’ Thorne sighed as he observed his escort.

The soldier noticed Thorne walk out of the house and immediately straightened his posture and saluted him. The salute was simple and easily understandable: two arms crossed over the chest in an X-shape.

“Greetings, Sir practitioner.” The soldier said, not looking Thorne in the eye, “I will be your humble escort to the school. Please follow me.”

Thorne nodded at the man and strode beside him, “Yeah, sure. Thank you."

The man froze. His eyes darted up and looked at Thorne in confusion for the briefest of moments.

“I'M SORRY!” he shouted instantly, averting his eyes. I apologize for the disrespect!” he repeated, looking at the sandstone road.

“It's fine.” Thorne sighed, waving the man’s apology away. I don’t care for formality; just lead me to the school.”

The soldier nodded and restarted his walking; “O-of course, Sir practitioner.” He stuttered.

“So, what’s the school like?” Thorne asked casually as they walked.

Still looking forward, the man responded formally, “It’s a wonderful institution of learning for the upcoming heroes of Kroll City."

“No.” Thorne declared, “I have been here for one night. I do not care or even know of your city’s traditions and formality. I care even less for propaganda. So, as I asked before, what is the school like?” he stated, glaring at the soldier.

Sweat started to build on the man's face as he pursed his lips; “Are you…being sure, Sir practitioner?” The man asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Thorn stated, "I wouldn’t need a guide to the school if I wasn't a newcomer.”

“All right then,” the man sighed. The school is…ruthless. From what I’ve heard, it's made up of only a few practitioners due to the city needing them elsewhere, and the normal ones, the weak ones, are bullied or even killed by the students. If only….” The man shuddered as he tapered off.

“It's fine.” Thorne said, raising his hand,” Thank you for the information.”

The man nodded in response and continued walking through the city. ‘So, it seems that cultivators have a lot of sway here. If they can get away with rampant killing, as the man said, they will probably be rowdy.’ Thorne cracked his knuckles. ‘It seems I will have to be quite a strict teacher, ' he thought, a small smile slowly forming.

The rest of the journey was held in silence. Thorne had noticed that the one simple question he had asked had nerved the soldier out quite a bit, ‘I shouldn’t push him too hard.’ Thorne thought, ‘I need to be more tactful in my information gathering.’ His face darkened as he looked around the city.

There were many people scurrying around, most of them with stressed or worried expressions on their faces. As soon as the common folk saw Thorne and his escort, they immediately turned round and didn't even come within twenty feet of them.

Finally, after walking for dozens of minutes, the man stopped in front of a large metal gate. The gate was extended by more walls, which surrounded a new area within the already walled-in city. ‘Two walls…that’s strange,’ Thorne thought as he watched the gate rumble open.

The new landscape was far different from the outer city. Ozone and gas permeated the atmosphere as Thorne stepped through the gate. The sandstone infostructure was replaced by hearty steel and concrete. ‘So, this is the infamous industrial sector.’ Thorne realized as he remembered the officer's words from the previous night.

Walking through this part of the city was a far different experience. The number of people decreased considerably, and those in the industrial sector were almost always decorated with a spectrum crystal.

“Here we are, Sir practitioner.” The guard saluted Thorne as he stopped on the street.

The pair stood before a massive building that was both wide and tall. It was incredible in its pure mass and took up the same space as dozens of sandstone houses. It was made of steel and glass, with a rotating door in the center. It stood on a plush red carpet that led toward the street.

“Thank you,” Thorne nodded at the man as he strode onto the red carpet. He could see no one else walking toward the building, and as he stepped into the school, he noticed only a singular person in the lobby. It was an older woman sleeping behind a screened-off booth at the edge of the reception.

Waling up to her, Thorne rapped his knuckles on the glass; “Excuse me.” He said, trying to gain the attention of the tired elder.

With a start, the woman's head jolted upward, and she stared wide into Thorne’s eyes. “Oh,” she croaked, “I apologize, sir practitioner. I hadn’t expected anyone to arrive an hour before school started,” she said with a bow, “How may I help you?”

“Oh, that’s fine.” Thorne smiled at her. “I'm a new teacher here, actually. Could you guide me toward my classroom?”

The woman's mouth gaped as she looked down at some papers on her desk, “Oh yes, they did say a new teacher would be coming.” She mumbled, “I can take you to your classroom. We have an hour until school starts, after all.” She mumbled with a chuckle.

“Thank you.” Thorne nodded, following closely behind the woman as she trotted out of the office.

The halls of the school were long and industrial. The windowed walls were barren, and even the different rooms that Thorne peered into were devoid of any soul. After a couple of minutes of walking—at the pace of an old lady—the receptionist halted in front of a wide double door.

“Your room is right here.” The elder said with a crooked bow, “I hope I satisfied your needs, Sir practitioner.”

“Yes, you did. Thank you.” Thorne nodded, getting used to the constant formality.

As the old lady trudged away, Thorne heaved the double doors open and glanced inside the area of his new classroom. ‘This isn't half bad, actually.’ Thorne bobbed his head in satisfaction. The area that opened up to him was a massive gym-like space. It had three stacks of chairs in the corner of the room, while the floors were painted with squares meant for dueling or group combat.

Thorne took the sight in with a wry smile. ‘Six months ago, I stepped into the desert training area.’ He realized, ‘From student to Master, just like that.’