Jin’s breath hitched as the gates to the Protector Academy creaked open, revealing the sprawling expanse of the fortress. Rows of buildings made from pristine white stone lined cobbled streets. Students in neatly pressed uniforms walked in groups, some practicing spells in designated courtyards, while others carried stacks of books to the central library. The sound of clashing weapons echoed in the distance, mixing with bursts of elemental magic lighting up the sky.

“Alright, recruits,” Lian said, motioning the group forward. “This is where you’ll live, train, and learn to protect this world. Some of you might not make it past the first year, so I suggest you take everything seriously.”

Jin’s stomach churned at Lian’s words, but he swallowed hard, clutching May’s hand.

“Where do we go first?” Jin asked, glancing at the towering spires and fortified walls around them.

“You’ll be sorted into dormitories and assigned mentors,” Lian explained.

“But first, the Initiation Ceremony. That’s where you’ll pledge your commitment to becoming Protectors.”The recruits were led to a massive amphitheater at the heart of the academy. The space was open to the sky, with rows of seats forming a semi-circle around a raised platform. At the center of the platform stood a crystalline orb the size of a man’s torso, pulsing faintly with blue light.

“This,” Lian said, pointing to the orb, “is the Core of Truth. During the ceremony, each of you will place your hand on it. It will reveal your potential, including your Talent, if you have one.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The group murmured nervously. Jin’s chest tightened. He had heard about Talents—unique abilities that made Protectors stand out in battle. What if the Core revealed he didn’t have one?

One by one, the recruits stepped forward, placing their hands on the orb. A girl with short, red hair approached first. When she touched the Core, a burst of flame erupted around her hand.

“Pyromancy,” an instructor announced. The girl beamed and stepped aside.

Next came a boy who summoned a shimmering shield of light, earning murmurs of approval from the crowd.

When Jin’s turn came, he hesitated. He glanced at May, who gave him a small, encouraging nod. Steeling himself, he approached the Core and placed his hand on its smooth surface.

The orb pulsed. A faint light flickered within, then faded. Silence fell over the amphitheater.

“No recorded Talent,” the instructor declared.

Jin’s heart sank as the murmurs started—whispers of disbelief and pity. He pulled his hand away and retreated to the edge of the platform, his face burning with shame.

After the ceremony, the recruits were divided into dormitories. Jin was assigned to the Initiates’ Wing—a section of the academy reserved for those still awaiting the manifestation of their Talents. The building was smaller and less ornate than the other wings, but it was still impressive compared to his home in Rengard.

His room was simple but comfortable, with a single bed, a wooden desk, and a small wardrobe. As Jin unpacked, the door creaked open, and a tall boy with dark hair stepped inside.

“You must be Jin,” the boy said, offering a hand. “Name’s Ryen. Looks like we’re roommates.”

Jin shook his hand, grateful for the friendly introduction. “Nice to meet you.”

Ryen dropped his bag on the bed and stretched. “So, what’s your Talent?”

Jin hesitated. “I… don’t have one.”

Ryen raised an eyebrow. “Really? Guess that makes two of us.”

Jin blinked. “You don’t have a Talent either?”

“Not yet,” Ryen admitted. “But I plan to change that. They say some people manifest their Talent after intense training or dangerous situations. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”