Chapter 49

  The air was heavy with a suffocating weight as I dragged myself across the lush path, gazing up at the looming spires of the Academy and the gothic roofs turning and twisting about its reaches, taking in the exotic sights with a muted excitement. There was, I supposed, a sense of longing somewhere deep in my heart, but at the same time, I felt like a child out for his first adventure.

  That wasn’t very far from the truth, actually. Yes, I’d been to that Grade D Plane’s forests before, many times alone with only a sword and a backpack to my name, but this… felt different. Knowing that my true home would be far away and that I would have to take care of my own was as excruciating as it was borderline insane.

  Which made me smile.

  Onward through the path, we probably looked like a bunch of lost chicks by the way everybody kept stumbling into each other. There wasn’t a guide, either; we simply followed the lush path, hoping it would lead us to where we were supposed to be.

  Thankfully, it brought us before a set of towering spires, cocked in the middle of which was a church-like building whose gates made us look like worms. A single woman stood under its shadow, clad in a robust robe of multicolored lights, changing and twisting into ethereal shapes like a magical trick. She had a full head of crimson hair. Her eyes, much like her robe, changed colors intermittently, and she looked to be in her deep twenties, with gentle creases across her face.

  “See the hexagon on her robe?” Keralth, my so-called friend—the ever-provider of knowledge to this poor, ignorant fool from a backwater region—had kept up with me throughout the short walk and was now standing beside me as we came to a stop before the gates. “It doesn’t have a circle around it. That means she’s a Herald Mage, either a junior academic who chose to stay in the academy after her graduation or a personal student of one of those Masters.”

  He was basically giddy with excitement by the time he was done with his info session, after which he planted his eyes on the woman in the manner of a bookworm eager to start another serial. I, on the other hand, simply went with a nod.

  “Get in the lines, little ones!” the Herald Mage said in a sing-song voice once a low murmur broke out amid our small group. “We’ll wait for the rest of the first-years to make our entrance.”

  So, we waited, and more students poured into the entrance from all around the path, a flush of new recruits looking awfully sharp and bright. Hundreds of them shared the same surprised expression once they saw the Herald Mage, then waited patiently for others to gather.

  In the end, our ranks were boosted to around five hundred strong, give or take. Not everyone appeared to be a stranger, though. Already, people were busy making new friends, which somehow included me, since I had Keralth breathing down my neck.

  What surprised me the most was that nearly everyone had a Liquid Cape on their backs, and the ones who didn’t were painfully low in number. Those didn’t stick out from the crowd, as they preferred to stand in their own corners without bothering anyone.

  Strange, that, really. It showed that while being a chosen student was a big thing, nobody had the mind to goggle their eyes at one during this stage, especially when their emotions were at an all-time high. They were busy in their own worlds, which was true even for Keralth, the supposed genius, whose curiosity somehow missed the fact that I didn’t have a cape as well.

  “All right, listen!” the Herald Mage addressed the crowd once the flood of students stopped. “First of all, welcome to the Creator’s Academy. My name is Renaor Fessly. I’m a recent graduate student currently working on a thesis on the multifaceted nature of rainbows—hence the robe. Today’s ceremony will be handled by my Master, one of the famous Streaks from the Highland Wizards, the Celestial of the Cyan Realm, Archmage Laurel Morvayne. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s known to be rather difficult with first years. Try to keep quiet. I’ve seen him turn the whole first row into rats just because they giggled during his speech.

  “Now, you’ve been through a lot to get accepted into the Academy, and I can say with confidence that your hard-earned opportunity will be fruitful if you keep being diligent. You’ve already been assigned to a Hall Master based on your general evaluation. Each Hall Master will expect the best from you, as your actions and achievements will earn you hall merits, while your unlawful actions will be met with strict punishments. At the end of the semester, you will be evaluated through trials of fire, which will be the main platform to showcase your progress! I hope you can all cherish this place as much as I do.”

  She glanced over the crowd with no particular focus, then turned her back and clapped loudly. “We will now enter the Hall of Heralds. The ceremony will take place in front of the rest of the academy, so be prepared to be spooked and scared!”

  The humongous gates of the Hall of Heralds opened with a boom that sounded like thunder, growing louder still as the hall revealed itself in its full grandiosity. I picked my steps when the crowd shuffled silently after Renaor, feeling as tight as a rolled-up sleeve. I wasn’t to be trifled with, however, as I managed to keep my chin high.

  Inside, the hall was packed with hundreds of people, separated by six long tables that stretched for a mile. Candelabras hung from the high ceiling, giving the place a medieval vibe. Statues stretched from either side of the place, looking grandly down upon hundreds of students, almost menacingly.

  Soon, people perked up in expectation, and I felt, all at once, terrible auras settle right on top of my shoulders, threatening to pull my bones apart. I managed to drag myself onward, disoriented by the fact that I was being stared at by thousands of people, all either Mages or Knights of higher ranks.

  It was easy to tell them apart from each other. Knights looked like muscled creatures trapped in human flesh, ready to burst apart and drink fresh human blood. Mages, instead, appeared to be distinguished figures of some high-nosed statue, all sharing the same small nose that made them look like royal bastards.

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  “The fourth years are all Diamond Ranks, if not higher,” Keralth’s voice was rather stiff as we began our journey between the tables.

  “Fourth years?” I asked as I risked a glance at their group, then blinked. “They don’t look that young. Are you sure?”

  Keralth nodded. “There are bound to be a few exceptions, but they’re all around twenty years old.”

  “I thought becoming a Diamond Rank was a big deal,” I said, knowing that Diamond Rank was basically the elite across the Planar System. “So it is possible to become one in such a short time.”

  “These people have sponsors behind them—giant nations, different factions, and, most importantly, access to the Creator’s Academy’s resources,” Keralth said. “The environment alone gives them an edge. You don’t get to survive in this place while being mediocre.”

  “What happens to those who fail, then?”

  “They are expelled, if they’re lucky enough to fail in a normal trial of fire.”

  “Most of them die in the Sword of the Butcher,” a voice said from the side, deep and full of strength.

  Surprised, I glanced at the owner to see a bulky sixteen-year-old with a buzz cut, his Liquid Cape flapping against the back of the thick cuirass he wore. An axe hung heavily from his belt, which looked like something a furious Viking would use. All in all, the guy seemed as if he came expecting a war, but chanced his way into a welcoming ceremony instead.

  “Sword of the Butcher?” I asked him, flinching inward at the interaction. A part of me had thought I’d be an asocial, miserable fool, much like how it’d happened back in college, but the character of my first day appeared quite the opposite.

  I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not yet.

  “One of the second year’s trials,” the guy boomed as we inched closer toward the high platform, sat looking down at the rest of the giant hall. “They force you to face a Diamond Rank Puppet as a Hall.”

  “That doesn’t sound bad,” I said. If I got the general progressive curve right, then I’d become at least a Golden Knight during my second year. “Hundreds of people against a single puppet… It’s doable.”

  “I know that one!” Keralth’s reaction was a tad late, but his eyes glinted as he gazed at our new bulky addition. “It’s supposed to be the deciding factor of a student’s entire career. About half of the participants die, but I’ve heard they recently changed the rules. So the death ratio should be limited to around a quarter now.”

  “A quarter?” I bawled at the ease with which he uttered those words. “That’s like, a lot, right?”

  “Considering the nature of that puppet, I reckon it’s about as fair as fair gets,” the bulky guy said with a proud expression. “I’ll take that thing by myself. I don’t need trash that’d slow me down.”

  “Not very bright, I see.” Keralth tapped a finger on his chin. “They’ve always said it’s often the case with Knights, but since my experience is limited to my parents’ close circle, I thought it was an exaggeration. Looking at the two of you, however, I have to say there appears to be merit to the rumors. Knights certainly aren’t the most clever people.”

  “What did you just say?” The bulky guy’s hand made for his axe, which only further justified the insult Keralth said without actually meaning it that way. To him, I was sure, it was just a basic observation, which kinda hurt.

  “You’ve said it’s fair when you consider the nature of that puppet, which means that you have some knowledge about its skill set and general strength. Yet you’ve claimed that you could take it by yourself, which you should know is impossible. It’s either that your upbringing instilled into you an overly confident nature, which is definitely your parents’—or whoever raised you’s—fault, or you yourself are so foolishly ignorant that you’re purposefully ignoring the obvious truth. Either way, it supports my point.”

  “Damn Mage, are you looking for a beating?” The bulky guy fumed with silent rage, his hand about to jerk the axe free from its sheath.

  I wanted nothing from these two, but since I was trapped between them, I felt compelled to put an end to this stupid back-and-forth or else I’d probably get caught in their fire.

  “Easy, will you?” I said to the bulky guy. “This guy doesn’t mean anything bad. He’s just… like this. Don’t take the things he said to heart. And he’s kinda right. You have to give him that.”

  “He just insulted me!”

  “And you were about to take that axe out in the middle of this hall,” I said, keeping my voice as low as possible. Thankfully, we were surrounded by dozens of first-year students, which shielded us from the better part of the crowd. “This isn’t the place to do that. I promise you, he doesn’t mean bad. Trust me. You two can sort this out once this is over. I’m Leo, by the way.”

  The bulky guy, perhaps for the very first time, regarded me with full focus. His furious eyes slowly softened into a curious gaze, after which he studied me from tip to toe with intensity. Then, his finger jerked up to my back.

  “You don’t have a cape.”

  “That seems to be the case,” I said, scratching the back of my head. This amount of social interaction was getting a bit too much for my brain. “What’s your name?” I tried to change the subject, fast.

  “Varal,” he said, with a healthy degree of doubt in his gaze. “I don’t normally let go of people who insult me easily, but you’re right. This ain’t the place. We’ll sort this out when this is over.”

  “Clever,” I said with a thumbs up. “Now, you were saying something about the nature of that trial. I’m curious, what’s dangerous about it other than that it involves a Diamond Rank puppet?”

  “It’s the person who’s supposed to be the inspiration behind the puppet,” Keralth, as expected, answered before Varal. “I’ve heard Archmage Feroth personally carved that thing from Birmwood and nurtured an Empty Soul in a way that’d imitate that Knight’s fighting style before putting it inside the puppet.”

  “That’s… certainly something,” I said. “So they could do that with anyone, huh?”

  “Not just anyone.” Varal’s voice had a sharp edge as he glared down at Keralth. “That Archmage used the most famous warrior in the past century as an inspiration. I gave my word to my old man that one day I’d become someone who could take that woman.”

  “Woman?” I asked, an inkling of doubt creeping up my neck. “Do we have a name, or anything like that?”

  “They call her the Butcher of the Dawn,” Keralth said simply. “Which is why the trial’s name is Sword of the Butcher. Her real name is—”

  “Veyra Vorath,” I muttered shakily.

  “That’s right.” Keralth seemed genuinely surprised that, for the very first time, I appeared to know something. “The Bloody Mistress, they called her as well. Killed thousands in cold blood back in the day, and even Sword Celestials weren’t a match for her. It wasn’t surprising that she was the High Archon and the Grand Marshal of the famous Planar Knights of the Dravion Empire, which basically owns half of the whole Planar System.”

  “Dravian Empire?” I managed to force out, my heart thumping loudly in my chest.

  “Most people simply call it the Empire,” Keralth nodded, painfully unaware that there was a literal storm blasting through my mind. “They have a strong hold inside the Creator’s Academy, and many, many students!”

  I blocked him out of necessity, instead looking down at my hands. A jolt ran through my back as a prickling sensation took hold of my body. I lived more than ten years without ever learning who my Father truly was, or where he’d once belonged. I didn’t pester Mother with questions since I knew there had to be a reason for her silence.

  And now, out of all the places, and of all the people, this was how I got to learn my Father’s Empire.

  …….