The Esoteric Academy's dining hall was vast and bustling, illuminated by floating orbs of light and filled with the scent of exotic spices. Indra didn't recognize half the things on his plate—glowing fruits, bluish meats, rice that hovered millimeters above the tray—but strangely, it all tasted delicious.
He and Reid sat side by side near the wall. Across from them, Claire Seguette meticulously diced a vivid red tuber, her expression focused.
After the initial tension, the three had settled into a comfortable silence. Reid and Claire's conversation had started sharp but gradually softened, leaving them all relaxed, trading casual remarks between bites.
"Okay," Reid sighed dramatically, breaking the silence. "Maybe I overdid it." He glanced at Claire. "Not exactly fair to call you 'unhinged' just because you beat up a few heirs here and there."
Claire side-eyed him, brow arched.
"A few?" she countered dryly. "It was five. And they all deserved it."
Reid grinned and raised his hands. "Fine, fine. Five. Selective justice, then."
Indra chuckled.
"So you're making peace?
Claire hesitated, then huffed.
"For now."
The three smiled.
"You're not an Heir, right?" Indra asked, circling back. "But you're not from the Mortal Plane either. So… how'd you get here?"
"There are ways." Claire shrugged. "Some people from the Society's outer regions get in through scholarships or special nominations. Hard, but not impossible. I just wasn't born with Clan blood."
"But you were born with a knack for punching those who were." Reid teased.
Claire smirked, this time without sarcasm.
"A natural talent."
Indra turned to Reid.
"What about you? Where are you from?"
Reid adjusted in his seat, pride subtly threading his voice.
"Ledger Clan. One of the Ten Middle Clans."
"Not as powerful as the Nine Greats, but we've got history, influence, and solid presence. Warriors, mages, even a few alchemists. Nothing flashy, but… respectable."
Indra nodded, absorbing it all. He still felt like an outsider in this world, but piece by piece, the puzzle was coming together.
"Speaking of which…" Reid scanned the hall. "You wanted to know about the Nine Great Clans' Heirs, right?"
Indra perked up.
"They're all here. See those groups where the energy feels thicker? Those are the Nine Thrones."
"You know all of them?" Indra asked.
"Hard not to." Reid smirked. "It's basically required reading here."
"Let's break it down." He chin-pointed toward a curly-haired blond laughing at his own joke.
"Kade Rockefeller, Heir of the Rockefeller Elementalists. One of the top three in our generation. Already a mid-tier Master, and he knows it. Hence the 'world revolves around me' vibe."
Indra had heard the name in Professor Owen's lectures. Now he saw him surrounded by sycophants, treated like royalty.
"Now look there." Reid gestured to a silver-haired girl with golden eyes, posture flawless as she spoke calmly to enraptured listeners.
"Aurora Bianchi, Heiress of the Bianchi Cultivators. Another mid-tier Master. Proud but fair. Probably the most respected among the Heirs."
Indra studied her, recalling Sophie's stories about the Bianchi Clan. There was an effortless authority to her, unforced yet undeniable.
"And the third of the top three." Reid continued, scanning the hall's far end. "Isn't from a Great Clan. It's Ye Chen. Not here now, but trust me, you'll hear that name again."
Indra nodded.
"Sophie mentioned him. Said he's beaten Heirs in open combat."
"Then you know he's a monster." Reid said. "Also a mid-tier Master, and the only non-Great Clan member who rivals them. Might even be stronger than the top three combined… but no one says that out loud."
Claire smirked.
"Bet Kade would love to hear that…"
Reid laughed and pointed to another group.
"There. Messy black hair, red eyes—see him?"
Indra did. A pale-skinned boy with a relaxed posture but eyes like a stalking predator.
"Yamazaki Sosuke, Heir of the Yamazaki Sorcerers. Low-tier Master, but his curse control is insane. Those eyes? Basically hypnotic."
"That one reeks of trouble." Claire muttered.
"Agreed." Reid pointed elsewhere. "Now check out Mr. Perfect Uniform over there."
"William Von Goethe, Heir of the Goethe Warriors. Also low-tier Master. Trains till he bleeds—literally. Discipline incarnate. Still lives in the others' shadows, though."
Next, Reid indicated a tall boy with porcelain skin and white hair tied in a traditional Spiritualist's ponytail, looking like he'd stepped out of a gothic novel.
"Johann Von Der Schulenburg. Schulenburg Clan. Talks to spirits like they're childhood friends. Another low-tier Master."
"He seems… too calm." Indra noted.
"Way too calm." Claire frowned.
Reid thumbed toward the hall's opposite side.
"Now see that girl with auburn hair, piercing gaze, and a black cape with red embroidery?"
"Tanya Romanova, Heiress of the Romanov Warlocks. Rumor says she's pact-bound to some underworld entity. No one knows which, and honestly? No one wants to."
Then, Reid pointed to a slight, slouching boy—but the air around him warped, dense with invisible pressure.
"Now this one's interesting. Shin Jin-Sung, Heir of the Shin Mystic Warriors. Another low-tier Master. Looks timid, but that energy? Oppressive. Something's off about him."
"The dangerous ones never look it." Claire remarked.
Finally, Reid turned to the hall's center. There, seated like the room had been designed around her, was Alexia Valois. Intricately braided blond hair, dawn-sky eyes, a white-and-gold robe shimmering under the enchanted lights. She looked carved from serenity itself.
"Alexia Valois, Valois Clan. Heiress of the Priests. Doesn't fight much, but when she's on the field? No one dies. Literally no one. They say her grandmother cured an entire city of plague in one night."
"Impressive." Indra murmured.
Then Reid pointed to the last figure.
"And finally… the strangest case of all."
Indra followed his gaze—and froze.
A girl of near-supernatural beauty, her gold hair making actual gold seem dull. Deep blue eyes glowing with hypnotic calm. Every movement seemed choreographed by divine hands.
She held court, surrounded by students who laughed like she was the sun.
"Mia Nefertari, Heiress of the Nefertari Mages. Not even a Master yet—just a high-tier Specialist. But no one dares underestimate her. Charisma, presence, and… well, look at her. Her beauty's practically a spell."
Indra couldn't speak. It wasn't just beauty. It was magnetism.
Claire snapped her fingers in front of him, laughing.
"Wake up, mortal. Try not to drool."
"I—I wasn't—" Indra stammered, brain short-circuiting.
Reid cackled.
"Relax. Everyone reacts like that the first time they see Mia. It's universal. And that's the problem—she knows it."
As Indra watched the Heirs—planets orbited by lesser stars—he felt the weight of this world. A world where names meant more than actions, where birth dictated power… and where he was an anomaly.
"And those." Reid concluded. "Are the Nine Thrones. The pinnacle of our generation." He smirked at Claire and Indra. "But who said pinnacles can't be climbed?"
A shiver ran down Indra's spine. Not fear—anticipation. He had no Clan, no fame, no titles. Yet, at that table, he felt his presence wasn't an accident.
It was a beginning.
---
The chime of the academy bell resonated through the halls, crystalline and sharp. The first practical lesson was about to begin.
Indra, Reid, and Claire had finished their meals and now walked toward the Outer Arena, flanked by trees with leaves that shimmered like ethereal glass. Above, astral owls glided past, indifferent to human dramas.
"The Outer Arena." Reid mused, hands behind his head. "This'll be interesting."
"You've trained here before?" Indra asked.
"Once, during a Ledger Clan exchange. That place is a cathedral of violence. The greatest of all time have bled on that floor."
Claire snorted.
"Poetic. It's just reinforced magic stone."
Reid glared.
"You can turn anything into sarcasm, can't you?"
She grinned.
"Natural talent."
As they passed through black stone gates carved with mystic runes, the trio paused. The Outer Arena was colossal—far larger than anything Indra had seen. Floating stands hovered on magical platforms, banners of the Great Houses fluttering around them. At the center, dueling circles formed like living obsidian plates rising from the ground.
And there, waiting, was Professor Aurelia Verdan—leather-clad, steel-eyed, radiating authority.
"Welcome to where masks fall." she declared. "I oversee your Esoteric Combat training. Today, we see who has what it takes to stand here… and who's just dead weight."
She snapped her fingers. The combat rings ignited with glowing runes.
"Duels begin now. I want technique, smart Energy use, and—of course—power. No forbidden enchantments. No permanent maiming."
Then, her gaze locked onto the Heirs.
"We'll start with our pillars. Show the new generation what excellence looks like. Kade Rockefeller. Circle Two."
Kade strode forward, arrogance in every step.
"Yamazaki Sosuke. Circle Two."
Sosuke rose slowly, crimson eyes burning against pale skin—a coiled threat.
The fight began with Kade hurling crystalline fire lances wreathed in cutting wind. Sosuke didn't flinch. His fingers traced runes in the air, summoning living shadows that twisted Kade's attacks off course.
"Curse Magic and Shadow Invocation." Reid noted. "Refined."
Kade retaliated with lightning, but Sosuke's spectral hands erupted from the ground, grasping his ankles. With a roar, Kade encased himself in fire-armor, shattered the shadows, and unleashed a compressed blast of flame and lightning straight into Sosuke's chest.
Sosuke crumpled.
"Victory: Kade Rockefeller." Aurelia announced.
"Aurora. Circle Three. Shin, join her."
Aurora moved like a dancer. Shin shuffled forward, shoulders hunched—but the air around him bent with raw power.
"That's… pure pressure." Claire muttered. "And he hasn't even started."
Aurora remained poised.
Shin struck first: a wild beam of unstable magic. Aurora sidestepped, pivoted, and countered with a palm strike that sent him flying with concussive force.
"She read him perfectly." Reid said, impressed.
"Victory: Aurora Bianchi.
"Mia Nefertari. Circle Five."
Mia entered with effortless grace, her rune-engraved rapier gleaming.
"Johann. Circle Five."
The aristocratic Spiritualist stepped forward, jade staff in hand.
Mia struck first—blinding speed, sparks trailing her blade. Johann blocked with an instant barrier. She flipped back, activated acceleration runes, and lunged again—only for Johann to bind her in ancestral spirit-chains.
"She's good." Indra admitted.
"But Schulenburg's no joke." Reid said.
With a flick, Johann dispelled Mia's runes and sealed her Energy flow.
"Victory: Johann Von Der Schulenburg."
Mia smiled, unfazed.
"Ye Chen. Circle Three."
The arena hushed.
Ye Chen walked to the center, serene as still water.
"William. Face him."
William drew his sword, tense but focused.
The fight lasted one move.
William unleashed seven slashes, each trailing explosive aura. Ye Chen didn't flinch until the last second—then raised his palm and pushed.
An invisible force hurled William across the ring. He landed unconscious.
Silence.
"Victory: Ye Chen."
Indra stared.
There was no question.
This was the level he'd need to reach.
And somehow… something in him thrummed, as if ready to run straight toward it.