Stepping into Valefort Academy's training hall, a vast expanse of high ceilings and polished floors, I find myself surprised at how eerily quiet it is. Only a sparse handful of students linger here, scattered like lone birds in a vast sky. I would've expected an academy of this caliber to have its cadets honing their skills at all hours with the kind of endless pursuit you hear about in legends where future heroes are molded.
As I approach the front desk, curiosity prickling at the back of my mind, the receptionist, a girl with dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail, remains engrossed in her datapad, fingers gliding over the surface with practiced ease.
"Hey," I greet casually, leaning over slightly, "how do I go about booking a training room here?"
The receptionist continues tapping, hardly acknowledging my presence before replying. "Private training rooms cost credits but the public ones are free."
Of course. Credits. The universal currency of progress in a place like this. I think James said something getting them from missions and ranker duels.
"Thanks," I reply, nonchalant, both hands now shoved into the pockets. Skimming the room for the public facility, I eventually spot a set of unassuming doors marked "Public Training Center."
I make my way over, noting the occasional glance from other students clad in varying shades of the academy's colors. As I near the entrance, a pair of cadets emerge from within, their conversation muddled by laughter.
I nod towards them, the gesture an automatic impulse despite our unfamiliarity, and step inside the room as they drift past. When I look in the training centre know ones there.
Only the soft echo of my footsteps seems alive in the quiet.
"Alright, well maybe this isn't so bad." I mutter as a grin tugs at the corners of my lips.
I prefer the privacy, I don't want anyone catching what I can do so early.
With a decisive stride, I cross the room toward a row of dummies, life-sized figures fashioned from mana-infused crystals. The sights prompts me to summon my katana, a sudden spark in my chest calling the weapon into existence with a mere thought.
The blade materializes smoothly, its weight resting comfortably in my grip. Its black steel gleams under the ambient lighting.
First things first. Time to put this baby to the test.
I activate Transcendental Swordsmanship, familiar energy flowing through me, sharpening the world in hues of precision and intent. It's as if a silent conductor hums beneath my movements, orchestrating each swing, pivot, and parry toward perfection.
Blade and body move as one. A fluid dance of steel. I whirl through a sequence of slashes, the katana a black blur that scores invisible lines in the air. Each cut feels perfect, each step exactly where it should be. The energy coursing through me sings a song of combat, a rhythm only I can hear. For the final strike, I pivot, dropping my weight low and swinging the blade in a clean, horizontal arc aimed directly at the crystal dummy's neck.
Thunk.
The impact sends a sharp vibration up my arm, but the dummy's head remains firmly attached. Not even a scratch marks the crystalline surface. The katana just bounces off.
"Mhmm, not bad." My breath comes out in a short puff. The dummy is sturdier than it looks. "Alright, probably need to increase my strength and speed."
Time to try out the Eye of Power. A thrill goes through me. A thirty percent boost should be more than enough.
[Sir, I advise utilizing only twenty-five percent of the Eye of Power's output.]
Odin's voice, crisp and metallic, echoes in my mind.
"Why?" I ask aloud, my brow furrowing. "I need the full boost to see what I can really do."
[Activating the skill at one hundred percent capacity requires your bloodline to be fully awakened. Doing so now would risk severe internal damage.]
I freeze, the katana lowering an inch. "Wait. My bloodline isn't fully awakened?"
I pull up my status screen, the familiar blue light painting my face. My eyes scan the attributes, the skills, stopping on the line item for my bloodline.
[Eternal Convergence (Bloodline) – Partially Awakened]
I tap it. The line expands, new text shimmering into view.
[Description: A unique bloodline created by the Warlock Aurelian Solvaris, designed to achieve perfect convergence with all forms of mana and energy. It grants the user unparalleled growth potential and compatibility with the Infinite Eyes.]
[Current State: Sealed. The body is not yet durable enough to withstand the full flow of its power. Full awakening requires the user to achieve B-Rank.]
My jaw tightens. All this power, just sitting there, locked behind a rank I'm nowhere near.
"You're kidding me, right?"
A sharp breath escapes me. Sealed. Of course. Just when I think I have a handle on things, another gate slams shut.
"Fine," I mutter, my grip tightening on the katana's hilt. "Twenty-five percent it is, then."
[Affirmative. However, I advise maintaining this output for no longer than five minutes. The longer you sustain it, the greater the strain on your mana pathways and physical vessel.]
My free hand clenches into a fist. Even a fraction of this power comes with a timer and a warning label. It's like being handed the keys to a ridiculously fast car but only getting enough fuel to drive around the block.
I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head.
Must be some bloodline if even a drop is enough to tear me apart from the inside.
"Five minutes is all I need."
"Activate Eye of Power. Twenty-five percent."
The command leaves my lips, and an instant later, a jolt like a lightning strike shoots down my spine. It's not pain. It's pure, unadulterated energy, a humming current that floods every cell. A faint, crimson haze shimmers into existence around me, clinging to my skin like a second aura. My muscles feel tight, coiled springs brimming with kinetic force. Every fiber of my being thrums with a ferocious vitality.
"Woah," I breathe out, the word a mix of awe and disbelief. "This feels… I feel full of energy."
[Your five-minute window has begun, sir.]
Odin's voice cuts through the intoxicating rush, a cold dose of reality.
"Oh, right."
I snap my focus back to the dummy. My feet sink into a low stance, the katana held ready. I push off, intending to close the distance in a quick dash.
The world becomes a blur.
One moment, I'm across the room. The next, I'm face-to-face with the dummy, the air hissing past my ears from the sudden stop. The floor tiles I crossed are a hazy smear in my memory of the last split second. The movement was so fast, so utterly beyond my natural limits, my brain is still catching up. It wasn't running; it was closer to a short-range teleportation without the spatial tear.
There's no time to process the shock. Instinct takes over. I pour every ounce of this newfound strength into my arms, channeling the feeling of raw power directly into the black steel. The Transcendental Swordsmanship guides the motion, a perfect arc aimed for that same unyielding neck.
This time, there is no hollow thunk.
The katana grinds and rips its way into the dummy's neck, sending a shower of glittering dust into the air. The blade sinks deep glowing red wound halfway through the thick material before its momentum dies.
The head doesn't fly off. But the deep, brutal gouge proves one thing.
"Damn." I pull the blade free, staring at the deep, glowing red wound in the crystal. "I thought for sure that would slice it clean off."
[Sir, instead of relying solely on physical enhancement, try imbuing the weapon itself with the energy from the Eye of Power.] Odin's voice is a calm counterpoint to my frustration.
My eyes narrow. A grin slowly spreads across my face. That's a much better idea.
I lift the katana, centering my focus not on my muscles, but on the ferocious energy thrumming inside me. I will it to move, to flow. The crimson haze clinging to my body peels away, streaming down my arm like liquid fire. It snakes around my hand, coiling over the hilt and onto the black steel.
The blade drinks in the power. A low hum fills the air as the katana transforms, its dark surface now alive with a pulsating, scarlet glow. The air around it shimmers with oppressive heat. It feels less like a sword and more like a captured sliver of raw destruction.
I raise the weapon, its light painting the room in shades of blood. Another dummy stands waiting.
It's time for round two.
I take my stance, the glowing katana thrumming with contained violence. I pour my will into my legs, bracing for that disorienting boost of speed.
I push off.
The world compresses into a red-streaked tunnel. Just as I feel the familiar weightless acceleration, a white-hot spike of pain lances through my chest. It's sharp, brutal, as if a shard of glass just twisted itself into my ribs. A gasp rips from my throat, but I'm moving too fast to stop.
My momentum carries me forward. I grit my teeth, fighting the agony that screams for me to collapse. The dummy looms, a static shape in the blur.
Ignoring the pain in my chest, I channel everything into the swing. The auras of Transcendental Swordsmanship and the Eye of Power converge. There is no resistance. The scarlet blade passes through the neck of the dummy with a soft, singing hiss, leaving a trail of molten light in its wake.
I stumble to a halt on the other side, clutching my chest. The head hits the floor with a clean, solid clink, rolling a few feet before stopping. My katana's red glow fades as the dummy's headless body stands perfectly still, a testament to the clean cut and the red haze enveloping me dissipates.
My chest throbs, a dull ache now replacing the sharp spike. But the sight of the dummy's severed head, lying innocent on the polished floor, fills me with a rush. So, if I imbue my weapons with the energy of the Eye of Power, I get a better use out of them. A good discovery. I'm curious what other Eyes I'll unlock. Maybe I should've unlocked the Eye of Truth. No, I shake my head. No. I made the best choice. This way, I can at least show some power at the academy. I can upgrade my rank and earn credits.
"I'm gonna need credits," I mutter. Especially for the cafeteria. I haven't had good food in a while.
A soft beep sounds. My academy smartwatch, snug on my wrist, lights up. A message. From James?
A holographic display flickers to life above the watch face. James's familiar, friendly face fills the small screen, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"Hey, Cael! Hope everything is going well on your first day." His voice is light, cheerful. "Sorry for the delay, but we've finally transferred your credits. Courtesy of the Heroic Corps, to help your transition go smoothly." He pauses, his gaze earnest. "If you need anything at all, just let me know."
The screen goes blank.
I stare at the spot where James's face just was. Credits. From the Heroic Corps. Just… transferred. 100 credits.
I exhale slowly, the heat of my earlier excitement cooling into frustration. "You'd think they would mention this sooner," I murmur, sheathing the katana back into my inventory. It's convenient—I can summon it back with ease. But the credits? Those would've been useful yesterday when I was fretting about where my next meal would come.
Why did it take them this long? Maybe they just assume everyone naturally adjusts to sudden upheavals without a hitch. I might need to have a word with her whenever we cross paths again. Selia could have used that time explaining things. Especially when she seemed protective back at the academy office. I couldn't tell what she was attending to when I was there. Maybe it was crucial.
I slump onto the edge of the training mat, my fingers pressing lightly against the tender spot on my ribs. It's not the pain that bothers me, I can handle the pain. It's the realization that every advantage comes with a price.
"Now that I know there's limits to this power, I need to be careful. So I can't show too much without hurting myself, huh? Well, there should be something in the Archive. I need to get a handle on these powers."
I push myself off the mat, the ache in my chest now a dull reminder of my limits. Shaking it off, I head toward the exit, the katana safely tucked away in my inventory. The training hall feels even emptier now, the only sign of life that receptionist girl with the tight ponytail still tapping away at her datapad, oblivious to my presence.
The walk back to my dorm stretches longer than I expect, the floating isle's winding corridors a maze of students in varied attire
As I approach my dorm door, I glance back, but it's just another cadet hurrying past. I slide inside my room, the door clicking shut.
Back in the now in the empty training center, the door swings open. James steps in, his face lighting up with curiosity as he spots the severed dummy. A low whistle escapes his lips. "Wow, and I thought those kids were amazing." He kneels, eyeing the crystal's slow regeneration, the molten edges sealing back into flawless form. "But this? It's taking its time to regenerate" A grin spreads across his face. "This just got interesting."
To be continued….