In the large auditorium of the Academy, over a hundred new mage recruits found their seats beneath the brightly lit ceiling.
A short but still intimidating soldier marched onto the elevated podium, stopping with hands clasped behind his back. At the base, a few more soldiers stood guard as the man addressed the crowd, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hall. His scarred face only added to his presence.
"Good day, recruits. I am Colonel Johan, overseer of this academy. On behalf of the Royal Army, welcome to this country's military arms."
Shouts of pride erupted from some of the recruits, though many simply sat tensely. Johan began pacing the podium.
"As you know, the South-Land's military is divided into two factions: the Royal Army, stationed across the country, the first line of defense… and us, the Royal Magic Knights."
He stopped, turning slightly to the left. "Yet, despite being integral to the country's military might, there are those in the Army who look down on us."
His head lowered, eyes closed. "They see us as arrogant mages, climbing ranks through power alone, ignoring decades of loyal service. In other words… a disgrace. And as a former royal soldier, I see their point."
Half the recruits murmured, but Dom's fists clenched instinctively. Bullshit, he thought—but someone else was faster to voice it.
"I've applied every year for a decade and got rejected until now! I went through hell to make myself stronger! How is that disgraceful?!"
"Yeah! The Knights saved my village from wild beasts! Where was the Army when my sister almost died?!"
Voices multiplied, echoing off the walls as recruits erupted in emotion.
"Hey! Be quiet!" a soldier shouted, but his efforts were ignored.
Johan finally turned fully, eyes closed, radiating an eerie sensation. Dom, along with Roger and the serious teen from earlier, flinched as the hall filled with an invisible pressure.
A pulse of green mana suddenly surged from Johan, striking the crowd. Heads throbbed, and the first rioter groaned. Dom clutched his temples, feeling hot iron claws clawing at his skull.
"A mind spell?" the serious teen muttered, eyes narrowing. Every recruit struggled under the same force.
Moments later, Johan released the spell, and the recruits collapsed back into their seats, gasping.
"I don't remember giving any of you permission to speak," Johan said calmly, his voice now cold and commanding. Silence fell immediately.
Dom rubbed his temple, intrigued despite the pain. This guy's no joke.
Johan gave them a moment to recover. "Power determines rank here. A recruit could become the equivalent of a General in a year if they're strong enough." His smirk spread across his face.
He gestured toward the massive portrait behind him, depicting eight legendary mages. Pausing at the image, he said, "Even among the Great Monarchs, only General Anthony served in the Army. The rest were untrained commoners, nobles, and former criminals."
Dom's smile widened as his eyes lingered on the younger Anthony in the painting.
"The Knights were created to do what the Army cannot: operations too small for a full squad or too dangerous for ordinary soldiers," Johan continued. "That's why the entrance exams were so rigorous. Results matter above all else. Power is what allows you to succeed, no matter the risk."
Slowly, the standing rioters sank back into their seats, expressions turning sheepish.
"An average person has E or D-class magic," Johan explained, eyes closed. "Army soldiers? D or C-class. Even the higher officers are limited. Knights? B-class minimum. Proportionally, we hold the strongest mages."
He paused. "Some of you are already close to that minimum. The rest? We'll see if you reach it."
Johan's tone hardened. "For the next three years, your training won't just focus on military skills. We'll shape you into monsters comparable to the Monarchs themselves."
He let the statement sink in before continuing. "Do not listen to the Army. Despite centuries of service, they could not achieve what the first Knights did in mere months."
Cheers erupted from some recruits. Johan raised a hand, silencing them.
"Power is our focus—but not the only one. You'll also learn the basics of an army soldier: conduct, talent, and feats. Even Knights are trained warriors. And remember… your life will be harder than any Army soldier's."
Whispers replaced the cheers, confusion spreading.
"I hate sugarcoating, so I'll just come out and say this." He pauses as his eyes glow threateningly. "Despite their praise, the Capital sees us as tools. Escorts, bodyguards, heroes… sometimes executioners."
Dom's mind flashed back to Anthony ending Elon's life all those years ago, unflinching and completely focused. He clenched his fists.
Johan continued, air quotes emphasizing his words. "Some missions will defy laws or beliefs, all for peace. Break confidentiality, and you'll lose your status—or become a wanted criminal."
The serious teen closed his eyes, thinking.
Dom's gaze hardened.
"To prepare you, training will simulate impossible situations. From my experience over these years, I can boldly say that of the 153 recruits here, fewer than thirty will graduate. The rest will drop out or die. So consider this your final warning to leave if you don't have the balls for this."
With that, Johan left the podium, the hall still silent, every recruit frozen in thought.
An annoyed soldier clicked his tongue. "I should've given that speech myself. All Colonel Johan does is scare recruits away."
A snicker drew his attention. "What?" he snapped at a fellow soldier laughing quietly.
"You're new here," the smiling soldier said with a shrug, gesturing at the recruits. "Most see the Knights as a fast track to fame. They have no idea how hard it really is."
"If we soften our approach, we might get more knights—but most of them will crack under pressure," another soldier added.
"And when that happens," Johan's voice cut through the murmurs as he approached, one hand tucked into his jacket, "…you won't just have weak knights. You might get a broken, deranged mage… like the Mage Cannibal."
"Sir!" The soldiers responded in unison, saluting.
"At ease," Johan said, pulling a cigarette from his jacket. The soldiers lowered their hands. He turned to a female officer standing nearby. "Sergeant Sandra."
The officer nodded and stepped toward the podium to continue the ceremony.
"If I may, Colonel?" a rookie officer ventured, eyes wide. "I understand why you're doing this, but isn't there a… more efficient way?"
Johan exhaled a puff of smoke, letting it curl lazily into the air. "You're the new trainer sent by the Council, right? Let me guess—they told you to find a way to produce more knights for them?"
The rookie flinched at the accuracy of the statement.
Johan gave the rookie a pointed glare. "Tell those selfish bastards to forget it. I'm not changing my methods."
The rookie pointed to the worried recruits. "Look at them. Training hasn't even started, and they're already scared."
Johan's gaze hardened. "Unlike the Army, we value quality over quantity. Water down my methods, and all you'll get are liabilities. When those liabilities cause problems, the Council will be the first to blame me."
Another smoke cloud drifted from his mouth, making the rookie cough.
"Besides…" Johan smirked, eyes glinting, "…you're only looking at the weak candidates. The next generation of monsters is already cooking."
He strode away, leaving the rookie confused while more experienced officers merely smiled knowingly.
Even Sergeant Sandra, now standing at the podium, noticed certain recruits who stood out among the rest. Despite the fear and tension, a few held determined expressions—Dom among them, his grin wide and excited.
Thirty minutes later, proceedings ended. Some recruits had already quit.
Later that night, after dinner, the first-year dormitory awaited. Luggage already in place, recruits filed to their assigned rooms.
Dom frowned, checking the paper in his hand. The number matched the door in front of him.
They said your roommate remains your partner until graduation or dropout, he thought, dreading it. Forcing a hopeful smile, he whispered, "Please give me a fun partner…"
He opened the door—only to find the serious teen making his bed. Their eyes met in a silent, conflicted stare before Dom slapped his forehead.