Soren stood still as the train hissed behind him, its tal breath fading into the cold air.
Because of Imperial rules, transportation within the empire could not be airborne without the permission of the royal family.
Therefore transportation was usually by train or modelled vehicles for those that could afford the cost of aether.
The rest just used horse carriages.
Surprisingly, they were easier to maintain regardless of the impoverished state of the empire.
Despite the long journey, and once deciding to run from this fate with an orange haired girl, Soren was finally here.
His eyes gazed ahead.
Before him rose the gates of the Imperial Soulforge Academy.
Even the snow could not shield their brilliance. After all, these did not look like re gates.
They looked more like mountains carved into obedience.
Two colossal doors of layered soul-steel stretched upward, so high that Soren had to crane his neck until his spine ached.
He calculated subconsciously—fifteen hundred feet of engraved tal lood over them, swallowing the sky.
The surface shimred faintly. It had what Soren could only describe as veins of molten gold light pulsing beneath dark alloy, as if the gates themselves were alive and breathing.
Soren felt small, and not just physically.
On either side of the entrance stood two Soul chas.
Soren had heard about this before. At each gate of the Soulforge Academy were two—acting as guardians.
They were titans.
Each was armored in thick, golden-plated plating etched with sigils that glowed faintly with restrained power.
They had massive shields that rested against the ground, taller than most buildings, bearing the crest of the Armored-Class division.
The shields alone radiated a suffocating pressure—dense, heavy, and challenging.
Soren’s eyes glowed. That desire every chanic had to rip open the inside of a machine and see how it all worked enveloped his senses.
It had taken self-restraint from running to climb one of them like he did the trash cha back in his hotown.
Then again, he had to respect his new station.
It was true that these were not ceremonial statues.
These were executioners waiting for permission.
Behind him, Cynthia stood quietly.
She was similarly dressed in cadet white like him, the fabric crisp and untouched by battle.
The standard cadet issue wristwatch on one hand.
But the most observable thing about her was not her massive size but her helt.
Doctor Kaya had stated that Cynthia had retained her human head after the extraction of her unborn twin from her body.
But because of the damage that occurred all this ti, she would need a while to fully heal.
The helt she wore was no longer the bucket-looking thing she had on in the prison.
Now it was silver.
And not just simple silver too.
Cynthia had spent her acquired points from the prison to get it.
The silver helt was refined, polished, and almost pearlescent.
Smooth curves frad it, with thin filigree lines running across the surface like veins of moonlight.
A faint blue glow traced the visor’s edges, and when she turned her head slightly, the light caught the surface and made it shimr like liquid tal.
It was beautiful. Elegant. Protective.
And secretly, Soren thought it was really cool.
And wished he had one.
It looked... knightly.
On both their hips hung their Glasshearts—sleek crystalline lenses for their Shades.
Boyed had been thoughtful enough to secure more than one for Cynthia too.
Behind them, the train doors slid shut.
Major Boyed leaned out of one of the windows, his black coat flapping in the wind.
"Don’t die too quickly, Waterfell," he called, half-smiling behind his handkerchief. "Try to make it past orientation."
Soren snorted faintly. But still nodded his way.
Soren was really grateful to Boyed. Of course, he had also heard of Commander Jared’s hand at play behind the curtains.
He really wondered what kind of person his true father was to have won the favor of such exceptional people.
Cynthia also waved goodbye.
The train began to move.
Steel wheels scread against the rails as it pulled away, vanishing into the frozen distance and taking the last thread of familiarity with it.
Silence fell.
Then Soren noticed the words.
They were carved directly into the wall above the gates:
IMPERIAL SOULFORGE ACADEMY
The letters were forged from pure soul-steel, each one massive enough to be a building on its own. They radiated a soft golden glow, humming with what Soren perceived to be unrestrained authority.
Yes. The words didn’t just announce a place.
They judged the person that dared stand before them.
At least, this was Soren’s feeling in his bones.
He and Cynthia stepped forward.
As they crossed the threshold, a chanical voice bood from hidden speakers embedded within the gate.
"FRESHMAN CADETS DETECTED.
PLACE FINGERS ON THE SCANNER FOR SOUL IMPRINT REGISTRATION."
Two tallic pillars slid out from the wall, their surfaces glowing with pale blue neural links.
Soren placed his hand on one. Cynthia did the sa.
Cold bit into his skin.
A pulse of energy ran up his arm, into his chest, brushing against Chronovore like a probing finger.
The scanner beeped.
"IMPRINT ACCEPTED. F–RANK"
"IMPRINT ACCEPTED. A–RANK (ABNORMAL)"
Another pause.
"YOU ARE REQUIRED TO ABIDE BY ALL RULES AND REGULATIONS OF THE IMPERIAL SOULFORGE ACADEMY."
The gates trembled slightly.
Then the voice continued:
"MINIMUM ENTRY REQUIRENT:
TEN CONFIRD KILLS EACH.
FAILURE TO ET QUOTA WILL RESULT IN DENIAL OF ACCESS TO INNER ACADEMY GROUNDS."
Soren’s jaw tightened.
Only ten kills?
He knew of this part. It was apparently sothing he and the other cadets were supposed to experience once they got to the gate of the academy.
It was what Boyed had called orientation only monts ago.
They were required to hunt inbred Eldritch souls while the rules of the academy were read to them.
It was a way to incorporate the new cadets into their new world.
This was the reason cadets had to learn the First Form technique before they reached the gates of the academy. And why they were all issued daggers on the train.
In simple terms, this place was ruthless.
The chanical voice ca again.
"WELCO, CADETS."
The gates split open, and Light poured through.
They stepped forward—
—and the world changed.
On the other side was a forest. Despite winter in the outside world, it still looked good.
It was a massive, dense forest stretching endlessly before them.
Its twisted trees practically blotted out the sky. And their black bark glistened like wet stone.
Pale mist curled around massive roots. Distant growls echoed between trunks the size of towers.
Soren stopped.
His chest tightened.
He felt it.
The Auras.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Eldritch Soul Beasts.
Their presences pressed against his senses like invisible eyes all locking onto him at once.
They knew he and Cynthia were here.
He smirked slowly.
"...So that’s how they welco freshn."
Soren turned to Cynthia. "Hey... wanna make a bet?"
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