The day that the first-year students had been eagerly waiting for finally arrived. After months of studying, rigorous training, and countless missions to earn their merit points, today was the day they’d learn who had earned a place in the second year. The academy hall buzzed with excitement and nervous energy, students jostling to catch a glimpse of the list posted on the board.
Among the crowd, Marge Verdant stood anxiously, her eyes scanning the list of names. It wasn’t a particularly long list, yet the words seemed to blur together as a wave of nerves washed over her. She squinted, her heart racing, until a hand suddenly appeared in her line of vision, pointing toward the board.
“There, Marge! Fourth place!” Hans’ familiar voice broke through her concentration.
She turned to see him grinning, clearly thrilled for her. “You really did your best, Marge,” he added enthusiastically, nudging her arm.
Marge, however, wasn’t quite as thrilled. Her gaze shifted up the list, taking in the top three names. First place: Rem. Second: Lorenzo. Third... Nova.
“Nova?” Marge muttered, frowning slightly. “The girl’s practically a nerd. Guess she’s been hiding some serious power behind those big glasses and quiet look.”
Hans laughed, unbothered by the rankings. “Hey, she’s tougher than she looks. And look, I got seventh! I didn’t think I’d make it so high,” he added, beaming.
Marge glanced at his name, noting that he was right below Martin and Flo, with Ika landing right after him in eighth. She let out a sigh and offered him a small smile. “You’re way too cheerful for seventh place, Hans.”
“Seventh is good!” Hans replied, shrugging. “And you’re fourth, Marge. That’s pretty impressive.”
Marge rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride creeping in. “Yeah, I guess. Fourth is... all right.”
“Come on, fourth place deserves a celebration,” Hans insisted, taking her hand and gently pulling her away from the board. “Let’s go join the others—they’re probably waiting for us at the usual cafeteria table.”
They made their way through the crowd, Hans practically bouncing with excitement while Marge tried to keep her cool. As they reached the cafeteria, they spotted Martin, Flo, and Ika already seated, waving them over. Marge felt the last bit of tension ease out of her shoulders.
The moment Marge sat down, Flo turned to her with a beaming smile. “Congrats on your ranking, Marge! Fourth place, that’s amazing!”
Marge flushed a little, a modest smile playing on her lips. “Thanks, Flo. I’m happy with it, but…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced at the higher-ranked names. “I still have a ways to go. Rem, Lorenzo, Nova…” She muttered the last name under her breath, her tone less than pleased.
“Yeah, Rem’s at the top. Not surprising though,” Flo said, her eyes glinting with admiration. “She’s been unstoppable ever since the accident, right? After months of pushing through it, she’s more open now, more… well, herself. And I’ve noticed she’s been taking on missions with everyone, not just sticking with the same group. I think that’s why she’s beating all of us.” Flo’s voice softened a bit, her respect for Rem clear in her tone.
Marge gave a reluctant nod, her eyes still lingering on the top rankings. “She deserves it,” she said, her voice betraying a hint of admiration mixed with frustration. “She’s proven herself, even when it seemed like the odds were stacked against her. After everything that happened—she’s seriously impressive.”
“Makes sense, then,” Marge mused, folding her arms, “that she’s at the top.” She leaned back in her chair, glancing over to Hans. “But, what about you, Hans? You’ve definitely come a long way. I thought you’d be near the bottom when the year started, but seventh place? That’s impressive.”
Hans chuckled awkwardly at Marge’s teasing. “Seventh’s not bad, right?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.
Flo gave him an exaggerated look of disbelief. “You? Seventh? I thought you’d be lucky to crack the top ten after how bad you were in combat class.”
Ika, who had been quietly observing, nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve seen him improve so much in Master Khan’s class,” she said, her voice calm but with a hint of pride. “And besides combat, he’s been excelling in the rest of his subjects too. Honestly, it’s not that much of a surprise. He’s been putting in a lot of extra work.”
Flo’s gaze lingered on Hans, but her expression shifted slightly as she leaned in. “Hmm. Well, still…” she began, a teasing tone creeping into her voice. “You’ve been keeping something from us, haven’t you? I mean, who’s been training you in your extra time? Who’s been helping you out? Because I know you didn’t make this leap by yourself.”
Hans chuckled awkwardly, feeling the heat of the conversation rising. He glanced at the others for a way out, but Flo wasn’t letting it go. “Come on, Hans. Spill it. Who’s been your secret mentor?” Her gaze remained fixed on him, clearly enjoying the mystery.
Hans laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, no secret. I’ve just been putting in extra hours, that’s all,” he said, trying to brush it off. “A lot of practice, a lot of focus.”
But Flo wasn’t convinced. Her eyes narrowed playfully as she leaned a little closer. “You’ve gotta have a secret.”
Before Hans could fumble for an answer, Marge’s voice cut in sharply, breaking the tension. “Flo, stop interrogating him,” she teased, flashing a smirk at Hans. “You’re gonna make him think he’s some kind of top-tier fighter if you keep pushing him like that.”
Flo didn’t press any further, though she continued to eye him with an amused smirk. “Alright, alright, I’ll let it slide for now,” she said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “But you owe me an explanation someday, Nimbersonn.”
Hans let out a quiet sigh of relief, his smile widening. “Sure, sure,” he said, feeling the weight of the conversation finally lift. “I’ll tell you all about it someday.”
“So, what’s our plan for second year??” Flo continued, turning the conversation back to the group. We all are going to have to focus on the three subjects that best align with the order we want to join.”
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“Alright,” Martin began, tapping his fingers thoughtfully, “we’ve got eight Orders: Aegis Enforcers, Oracle Innovators, Serene Healers, Vanguard Strikers, Elysian Reserves, Phantom Shadows, Titan Slayers, and Guardian Sentinels. So, which are you thinking about?”
Marge leaned forward, determination flickering in her eyes. “I’ve had my sights set on Phantom Shadows for a while now,” she said, her voice unwavering. “It would uphold my family legacy as the hunters and secret protectors of the realm.”
Hans raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Phantom Shadows, huh? That suits you, Marge.
Flo nodded, then added, “I’ve heard that Lorenzo’s aiming for the Titan Slayers. Can’t say I’m surprised. He’s got the strength and the guts for it.”
Hans shifted in his seat, thoughtful. He hadn’t quite decided yet, but the idea of joining the Aegis Enforcers had been growing on him. It was the only Order that worked directly under the King, and he had heard that Ellie Camberwell and Jun’dé were planning to join that one. It wasn’t a bad choice—being part of a team with the most authority, the closest to the heart of the kingdom’s laws, had its appeal. “I’m still undecided…” he trailed off, his thoughts lingering on the prospect of Aegis Enforcers. “But I’ll figure it out once I get a better feel for my strengths. Right now, it’s still up in the air.”
He glanced around at the others, expecting some commentary, but the rest of them simply shook their heads, as though they hadn’t quite made up their minds yet.
“I guess we all have time to think about it,” Flo said with a shrug. “We’ve still got three years left before graduation. No need to rush into anything.”
“Yeah,” Ika added, her voice thoughtful. “No one’s forcing us to choose just yet. We’ve got time to figure out where we fit in.”
Martin nodded in agreement. “That’s true. It’s important to pick something that aligns with our skills and where we want to be in the future. No point in picking an Order just because it's popular. It’s gotta be the right fit.”
Marge, who had already voiced her interest in Phantom Shadows, leaned back in her chair, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Besides, I’m sure we’ll all figure it out eventually. Some of us might have a clearer vision than others, but there’s no need to rush.”
Hans couldn’t help but agree. They were still so early in their training, and though graduation loomed three years away, there was plenty of time to explore different paths, to see where their strengths would lead them. For now, he was content to focus on the present—on developing the skills that would shape his future.
“Plus, we’ve got plenty of time to see who excels in what,” Flo said, glancing over at Marge. “It’s not like we’ll be making the final decision tomorrow.”
“Exactly,” Marge agreed, looking at Hans with a wry grin.
“Speaking of which,” Flo said, changing the subject, “what subjects are you all picking for the second year?”
There was a pause as everyone glanced at each other, mentally weighing their options. Finally, Martin spoke up. “I’m going with Combat, Science, and History.”
There was a moment of silence before Hans spoke up, eyes wide. “You’re not picking Strategy? But your family—House Apollo—is practically legendary for strategy!”
Martin shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know, I know. But I want to step out of that shadow a little. Plus, Science and History really interest me, and I think they’ll give me some versatility. Honestly, diving into Science sparked the little nerd in me.”
Flo nodded approvingly. “That makes sense. You’ll still have that strategic mind, even without the course. And versatility is always good.” She turned to the others. “As for me, I’m picking Combat, Healing, and Strategy. I like balance, and I enjoy Doctor Patrick’s class. It’ll be good to have someone who can perform first aid in the team.”
“I’m going with Defense, Healing, and Strategy,” Ika added. “My ring, albeit is powerful, but I think it’ll serve better as support. And I’ve realized I need more strategic insight to be truly effective.”
“Strategy, Combat, and Defense for me,” Marge said confidently. “I need all three to hone my skills if I’m aiming for Phantom Shadow. Those are the core areas I’ll focus on.”
Hans nodded, looking at Marge with a grin. “Looks like we’re on the same wavelength. I’m going with Defense, Strategy, and Combat.” He paused, adding, “Guess most of us will still have Combat as one of our courses.”
Flo chuckled. “It’s a given. No matter what, we’ll all need it.”
There was a moment of quiet as the group pondered their selections. With the orders and subjects laid out, the next step seemed clear. They all needed to work together to continue growing their strengths and figuring out how best to move forward, especially when it came to the team dynamics.
——
The Academy boardroom was cloaked in a thick, oppressive silence, the kind that settled heavily across the shoulders, dense and inescapable. Shadows flickered in the dim light, cast by the grim faces of professors and advisors who lined the room. At the center, Neil’s expression was dark, his eyes scanning each person before he spoke.
“As you all know,” he began, his voice flat but unyielding, “we’ve lost four students this year. Two first-years. Two second-years.” He let the words sink into the heavy air, each syllable laced with the weight of what they’d lost. “These weren’t random deaths. These were sacrifices—someone is performing an ancient ritual within our walls.”
A ripple of shock cut through the room. Anger and fear flashed briefly in the board members' eyes, but most wore masks of cold fury. At the head of the table, Chris and Rena exchanged a glance, their expressions hardening. Rena’s typically composed face had darkened, her brows knit with concern, while Chris clenched his jaw, his gaze fixed and steely.
Neil’s voice dropped lower, carrying a grave certainty. “The person behind this isn’t some novice. They’ve evaded every detection mechanism, striking at moments no one could suspect. And worse—they’ve manipulated our surveillance tags, leaving no trace. This is premeditated. It’s precise.”
He unfurled a large map across the table, the academy grounds marked with red dots where each body had been found. He pointed at each with a steady finger. “We found rune markings at each of these sites, inscribed near the bodies. They’re not random—there’s a language to them.” He paused, his finger tracing a series of connected markings on the map. “We believe these runes point to rites originating from the southern tribes—specifically, from the Ethereal Glade region or the Islands of Tidal Abyss.”
The board members leaned in, their faces tense with the gravity of the revelation. Professor Rebecca leaned closer, studying the layout, her gaze sharp. “At each site,” she said, her tone crisp with certainty, “we’ve also found artifacts—bundles of dried straw and small orbs, potentially talismans or ritual instruments. The dried straw is significant—it suggests the invocation of an ancient power, possibly through an artifact or some form of totemic magic.”
Neil nodded grimly. “If an artifact is involved, it’s likely something powerful, something rare. And whoever is wielding it has an intimate knowledge of these rites. This isn’t common or improvised magic.”
Rena’s frown deepened. “The straws and orbs—are they associated with any particular deity or invocation?”
Rebecca’s face grew even more serious. “Yes, we think it’s an invocation to the spirits of passage—a rite intended to open pathways between realms. This isn’t merely an accumulation of power; they’re trying to break a seal, or summon something.”
Neil crossed his arms, adding, “Cleric Freyja and her team are already exploring the southern regions for clues, hoping to identify weak points in the ritual or stop its progress. We can’t afford another sacrifice.”
Chris' gaze narrowed, his face shadowed with a determination that verged on anger. He turned to Lord Vincent Apollo, who stood silent and watchful in the council. “The seal,” he said, his voice a low command. “What is the state of the chains in Titan’s Keep?”
Lord Vincent’s eyes darkened, and he took a measured breath. “For now, the chains are secure,” he replied, his voice laced with a fierce resolve. “My elder brother, Lambert, the current head of House Apollo, is personally monitoring the Keep. Our Order has worked tirelessly with the Clerics and Guardian Sentinels for decades to maintain and reinforce the chains. Wards have been fortified, and we’ve spared no effort in strengthening every link.”
Chris' eyes bore into him. “No signs of weakening? No anomalies?”
“None,” Vincent replied, but his expression grew taut. “The chains hold, and the wards remain intact. But we cannot ignore the precision behind these sacrifices. The one performing these rites is no ordinary practitioner. If they seek to weaken the seals, we cannot take any chances.”
Rebecca’s voice took on a reflective tone. “If this is tied to the Titan seals, then these invocations might be meant to fracture the spiritual, rather than physical, boundaries. The chains themselves may hold, but the spirits anchoring them could be corrupted or diminished.”
Neil’s gaze sharpened. “If that’s the case, we can expect the next ritual to escalate. They’ll need more energy—more sacrifices to reach that level. We need to be ready.”
Chris rose from his chair, his gaze steely, sweeping over the faces around the table. “This stops now. We will intensify all security measures. Monitor every suspicious movement, reinforce wards and sigils across the academy, and work closely with Freyja’s team. We won’t wait for another strike.”
Rena nodded, her voice cool but resolute. “We should also consider reinforcing student dormitories and high-traffic areas with protective wards. The students need to know something without tipping them into panic.”
The academy board members murmured in agreement, and Neil added, “We should keep a closer eye on any student showing an interest in southern rites or ancient magic. This could run deeper than we realize.”
Chris' expression was set, his voice sharp and unyielding. “We end this. Whatever it takes.”