The academy hostel was a far cry from the drafty, monster-infested ruins of the forest or the cramped, straw-filled rooms of the Rusty Spoon. Lord Zilton, under the King's strict orders, had been forced to provide Ren with a suite that befitted a "Hero." The bed was draped in silk, the air was scented with expensive oils, and the silence was absolute.
Ren didn't care about the luxury. To him, a soft bed was just a place to recover stamina faster. He collapsed onto the mattress, his body heavy with the exhaustion of the journey and the mental toll of the Royal Court. He slept for hours, a deep, dreamless slumber that only a survivor could achieve.
When he finally woke, the bruised purple twilight of Syrius was filtering through the heavy curtains. His mind was sharp, his body restored. It was time to see where the "Pillars" of this nation forged their strength.
He dressed in his full gear—the Shroud of the Night Stalker and the Gloves of the Arcane Hand—and slipped out of the hostel. He didn't use the main halls; he moved through the shadows of the corridors, his Graceful Hand (30) and Speed (29) making him a ghost in the academy's architecture.
The sounds of combat drew him toward the Royal Training Grounds.
It was a massive, sunken arena of white stone, illuminated by floating mana-lanterns. Ren perched himself on a high stone balcony, hidden by the darkness, and looked down. In the center of the arena, two boys were engaged in a spar. Or rather, a humiliation.
One was about seventeen, tall but lanky, his movements desperate and clumsy. The other was younger, perhaps fifteen, with golden hair and a face that radiated a terrifying, polished handsomeness. This was Prince Valerius, the Holy Dragoon.
Valerius wasn't just training; he was playing with his food. He moved with a fluid, arrogant grace, parrying the older boy's strikes with a single hand.
"Is that all, Eren-kun?" Valerius mocked, his voice echoing in the arena. "The King calls us Heroes, yet you move like a peasant in the mud. Stand up. Show me why you deserve to breathe the same air as a Prince."
The older boy, Eren, gasped for air, his eyes glowing with a faint, flickering light as he tried to maintain focus.
[Appraisal Active...]
[Target: Eren]
[Class: Gaze Tyrant (Combat Rank: Low)]
[Core Scaling: Perception, Willpower, Intelligence]
[Weakness: Physical Combat, Broken Eye Contact, Mental Resistance]
Eren was a specialist, a mental-type hero whose power relied on locking eyes with his target to dominate their will. But Valerius was too fast, his movements a blur of golden light that never allowed Eren to settle his gaze. Valerius stepped inside the guard and delivered a brutal palm strike to Eren's solar plexus, followed by a sweep that sent the seventeen-year-old crashing into the stone floor.
Seven other students—the elite of the academy—watched from the sidelines. None of them moved to help. Some looked bored; others wore faint, mocking smiles.
Ren's eyes narrowed. He felt a familiar coldness in his chest. He remembered the forest. He remembered being called "dead weight." He remembered the way the "strong" looked at the "weak" before leaving them to die.
Ren's hand drifted toward the hilt of Eclipse. He was about to drop from the balcony when a new presence entered the arena.
"Yamero (Stop)."
The voice was like a whip—authoritative, cold, and impossible to ignore. A tall woman stepped into the light. She was stunning, with long, raven-black hair tied in a high ponytail and eyes that held the weight of a veteran commander. She carried no weapons, and no mana hummed around her.
[Appraisal Active...]
[Target: Suzume]
[Class: Skybound Fist (Rank A)]
[Level: 35]
[Rank: 2nd Strongest Hero of Syrius]
Suzume was a physical powerhouse. Despite her slender, athletic frame, her stats were skewed entirely toward raw physical output. She was a master of unarmed combat who relied on neither magic nor steel.
Valerius froze, his foot hovering over Eren's hand. He looked up at Suzume, his arrogant smirk flickering for a second.
"Suzume-san," Valerius said, his voice regaining its charm. "I was merely helping our friend Eren realize his limitations. A Gaze Tyrant who can't catch a target is just a blind man."
"You were bullying a comrade," Suzume replied, her voice low and dangerous. "The Grand Hero Festival is in six months. If you break our own pillars before we even arrive, I will personally ensure you spend the tournament in the infirmary. Leave."
Valerius stared at her for a long moment, the air between them heavy with tension. Finally, he shrugged and turned away. "As you wish, Rank Two. He wasn't worth the sweat anyway."
The Prince and the seven spectators left the arena. Suzume watched them go, her expression unreadable, before she too vanished into the shadows.
Ren waited until the arena was silent. He dropped from the balcony, landing soundlessly next to the fallen boy. Eren groaned, clutching his ribs. He looked up, his eyes widening as he saw the hooded figure in black.
"Who...?"
Ren didn't answer. He opened his mind to the Black Market Shop.
'Purchase: Basic Healing Potion.'
[-5,000 Yen (5 Stat Points)]
A small glass vial materialized in Ren's hand. He knelt and pressed it into Eren's hand.
"Drink," Ren said, his voice a low, raspy whisper.
Eren hesitated, then swallowed the liquid. Almost instantly, the color returned to his face. The internal bruising began to fade.
"Thank you," Eren whispered. "Are you... the new one? The Dragon Slayer?"
Ren didn't answer. He stood up and walked away, disappearing into the darkness. He didn't want gratitude. He just didn't like seeing the "Game" played that way.
Ren decided to tour the rest of the academy. He needed to map the exits and the hidden rooms. He moved through the upper floors, where the air was thick with the scent of old parchment and ozone.
As he turned a sharp corner near the library, a figure slammed into him from behind.
"Oof!"
Ren spun around, his hand instinctively going to his dagger, but he stopped when he saw the girl. She had fallen back onto the floor, her books scattered everywhere. She was small, with a timid, shy expression, her face flushing a deep red.
She was a stunning beauty, with long chestnut hair and a figure—specifically a very large chest—that even the heavy academy robes couldn't fully hide.
"I-I'm so sorry!" she stammered, her voice trembling. She began to bow repeatedly, her forehead nearly hitting the floor. "I wasn't looking! Please forgive me! I'm so clumsy, I... I'm so sorry!"
Ren stared at her for a second. Her heart was racing—he could hear it. She was genuinely terrified. He took his eyes off her heaving chest and looked at the book she dropped: Advanced Mana Theory.
"It's fine," Ren said flatly.
He walked past her without looking back. He didn't have time for distractions, no matter how beautiful they were.
He continued down the hall until he reached a set of massive, iron-reinforced double doors. A sign hung above them, etched in glowing runes: MAGIC CREATION & BIOLOGICAL RESEARCH.
Ren pushed the doors open.
The room was cavernous, filled with the hum of magical machinery. Rows of crystal balls sat on pedestals, swirling with trapped elemental energy. But it was the other side of the room that caught his attention. Dozens of monster carcasses—goblins, orcs, and even a small wyvern—were suspended in vats of glowing green fluid.
Ren walked deeper into the lab, his boots clicking on the cold tile. He reached the center of the room, near a massive, black-veiled tank. Suddenly, the air in the room grew heavy. The temperature dropped, and the hair on the back of Ren's neck stood up.
[SYSTEM ALERT!]
[WARNING: EXTREME HOSTILITY DETECTED.]
[TARGET: LEVEL B DEVIL]
Ren spun around, his dagger Eclipse sliding into his hand. The shadows at the back of the room began to bleed together, forming a tall, humanoid shape. It was lean and muscular, with skin the color of dried blood and two curved horns. Its eyes were a solid, terrifying white.
A quick info-dump flashed across Ren's vision.
[Lore Entry: The Devil]
Devils are rare, taboo anomalies born from the sexual interaction between a human and a Level B Beast or higher. They are biological contradictions.
Status: Obdurate. Devils possess a stubborn, singular will. They acknowledge only their biological mother as an authority.
Strength: Intensely deceptive. A Rank B Devil possesses the physical output of an A-Rank or even S-Rank entity, depending on the strength of who birthed them.
Warning: Once their mother is dead, they go on a rampage until they are brought down.
The Devil took a step forward, its claws scraping against the floor. It wasn't breathing; it was vibrating with a raw, unhinged power. It tilted its head, a sickening crack echoing in the silent lab.
Ren gripped his dagger, his Intelligence (142) already calculating the distance. The monster was a B-Rank with S-Rank potential. And judging by the lack of a "mother" in the room, it was already in a state of rampage.