It was morning again, and as expected, the academy buzzed with activity. Students woke up early, their morning routines synchronized like a well-oiled machine. The cafeteria was lively, with students rushing through their als as quickly as possible. They had no ti to waste; the first classes of the day awaited them.
Unlike the previous day, where Kairos had been disturbed by other students—particularly Rivet—today was different. The usual unwanted attention was absent. He managed to eat his breakfast in peace, seated with his two friends. It was a rare mont of quiet before the storm of training and lectures began. Once they were done, they consulted their military phones to confirm their first class of the day.
Summoners' Battle Class.
Stepping into the designated training hall, Kairos was t with the sight of an already packed room. Dozens of students filled the space, their voices creating a low murmur as they engaged in idle chatter. So were familiar faces, others complete strangers. It was imdiately apparent that this class was a popular choice. Given the importance of summoning, he suspected the Summons Battle Class had nearly twice as many students as this one.
Each student stood around, either gisting with their peers or curiously glancing around the vast hall, waiting for their instructor to arrive.
The wait didn't last long.
The private doors at the far end of the hall—ones reserved strictly for military personnel—slid open with a chanical hiss. A single man stepped through, his presence commanding the entire room without uttering a single word.
Tall and broad-shouldered, his physique exuded strength. A long sword was strapped to his waist, its hilt wrapped in dark leather. His long white hair frad a face riddled with scars, each marking a tale of past battles. There was sothing brutal yet disciplined about him. Unlike the other military personnel within the academy, he did not wear the standard uniform. This alone made him stand out.
The murmuring students quickly fell silent as he made his way to the front of the hall. Then, without warning, he raised a single hand.
The mont he did, the entire class fell into absolute silence.
"Now, I welco you to the Battle Class for Summoners," he began, his voice carrying a commanding authority. "You all chose this class because you understand the harsh reality of battle. Your summons may be powerful, but they are not invincible. If you find yourself in combat without them, whether due to distance, an enemy's strategy, or sheer bad luck, you will have two choices: fight or die."
The weight of his words settled heavily over the room. So students stiffened. Others looked away, as if grappling with the truth of it.
"Many believe their summon is all they need. That it will always be there to protect them. But what happens when your summon is preoccupied, and a trained summoner—just like you—cos for your head? What then?" He let the question hang in the air for a mont before shaking his head. "You die. That's what happens."
A few uneasy chuckles sounded in the room, but they quickly faded when they realized the instructor wasn't laughing.
"Here, we don't train to hope our summon saves us. We train to survive on our own." His sharp gaze scanned the students. "And not just against other summoners, but against the alien races that want humanity wiped from existence. This class is about survival, about pushing yourselves past what you think you can handle. So, if you're looking for an easy ti—leave."
Not a single student moved.
Satisfied, the instructor gave a slow nod before continuing. "Before we proceed, introductions are in order. I am Sergeant Lloyd."
The mont his na left his lips, the room erupted into whispers.
"Sergeant Lloyd?! No way, is it really him?"
"The legend who single-handedly defeated an alien fleet? That Sergeant Lloyd?!"
"Holy shit, we actually get to learn from him?!"
Kairos listened carefully, absorbing the information flooding the room. A legendary soldier, a hero who had already etched his na in history—that explained why Lloyd was allowed to roam the academy without his uniform. He had earned his own set of rules.
"Enough murmuring," Lloyd commanded, gripping the hilt of his sword and unsheathing it in a single, fluid motion. The blade glead under the artificial lights, its deep blue hue intricate with jagged carvings running along the edges. He twirled it skillfully, the air whistling with each precise movent. Then he stopped, holding the blade up for all to see.
"This," he said, "is a weapon crafted from evolved beasts. Their bones and cores are refined into sothing far stronger than ordinary steel. This isn't just a weapon—it's a tool that surpasses normal human craftsmanship."
Kairos' gaze locked onto the blade, srized.
Core weapons? He had never heard of such a thing before.
"This particular blade was crafted from a beast I slew on an alien planet. Unfortunately, I can't disclose its abilities, but rest assured, core weapons are among the most powerful tools in a summoner's arsenal."
He gestured towards a distant rack lined with various weapons. "Over there are several core weapons available for training. However, you won't be using them today. Before any of you even think about touching one, I need to assess your combat skills."
Lloyd sheathed his sword, crossing his arms. "You will all spar in pairs. Find a partner. Now."
The mont he finished speaking, the students scattered. So rushed toward those they perceived as weak, eager for an easy victory. Others hesitated, scanning the room for a strategic match.
Kairos took a step back. He had no interest in fighting his friends, and he certainly didn't want them approaching him for a duel.
It won't be hard to find soone, he thought, stepping forward. But the mont he tried approaching a few students, they suddenly turned away, acting as if they hadn't seen him. Others outright ran in the opposite direction.
Kairos frowned.
Despite their skepticism about his ranking, none of them wanted to test their doubts firsthand.
He stopped, exhaling sharply. Fine. If they're too scared, let them be. I'll wait for soone to approach instead.
And soone did.
A familiar face erged from the crowd, clad in a pristine military uniform. His noble posture and ever-present smirk made Kairos instantly wary.
Rivet.
"Kairos," Rivet said smoothly, bowing his head slightly. "Please, honor with this duel."
Kairos barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So this was his doing. It made perfect sense now—Rivet had spread the word that Kairos was already taken, leaving him with no other option but to accept his challenge.
For a brief second, he considered refusing. But he already knew the outco. If he refused, Rivet would simply push until there was no choice left.
So Kairos sighed and nodded. "Sure. I'll soar with you."
Rivet's lips curled into a smile that almost resembled joy. But Kairos wasn't fooled. This bastard was planning sothing.
He clenched his fists. Fuck . He should've gone with Darnell instead.
But it was too late now.
Either he won—or he lost horribly and his rankings would get questioned.
And losing was not sothing Kairos could tolerate.
Reviews
All reviews (0)