As Evan and Fred walked back toward their dormitory, the morning air felt lighter than usual. The academy grounds were already bustling—students moving in groups, some discussing lessons, others already sparring on distant training fields. The place felt alive, driven by ambition and quiet pressure.
Fred broke the silence.
"Do you think," he said casually, hands clasped behind his head, "I have a chance to date our instructor?"
Evan stopped walking.
He turned slowly, staring at Fred as if he had just heard something utterly absurd.
"…What?"
Fred blinked, surprised by Evan's reaction. "What? I'm being serious."
Evan rubbed his temples. "Fred. Where did you even get such a dangerous idea from?"
Fred puffed out his chest slightly, clearly proud of his reasoning. "Among all the students she looked at, she picked me to answer her question. That means something. It means I caught her eye."
Evan felt a chill run down his spine.
"That doesn't mean attraction," Evan said flatly. "That means you were the closest hand she saw."
Fred waved it off. "You're too negative."
Evan grabbed Fred by the shoulder and leaned closer. "Listen to me carefully. Thinking like that will implicate you badly. She's a tier-4 awakened, an instructor of the academy, and you're a first-year student who can just wake up on time. Do you understand how delusional that sounds?"
Fred frowned. "You didn't have to destroy my dream so harshly."
"It's not a dream," Evan replied. "It's a death wish."
Fred stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Eh. I'll survive."
Evan sighed, already regretting engaging in the conversation.
When they reached the cafeteria, something immediately felt off.
There were no long queues like the previous night. The atmosphere was quieter, more restrained. Students stood in front of the counters, hesitating, glancing at small engraved plates placed beside the food trays.
Fred stepped closer and squinted.
"…Why does it say 1 merit?"
Evan frowned and moved beside him. Each meal now had a clearly marked cost: 1 merit per serving.
Fred turned pale. "Why do we have to pay now? Yesterday was free!"
Evan scanned the hall, watching students reluctantly hand over their identity tokens to the staff.
"It looks like," Evan said slowly, "we have to start preparing for our own food expenses now."
Fred swallowed. "That's… ruthless."
Evan nodded.
Three meals a day meant three merits gone daily. Over a month, that was ninety merits—just to eat. And that was before any training materials, manuals, or medical treatment.
"This is training," Evan said quietly. "Not just of strength, but of management."
The academy wasn't easing them in. It was forcing them to adapt.
Fred scratched his head. "At least everyone has C-level treatment, right? That should be enough to survive."
Evan didn't reply.
Something about this setup bothered him.
The very next day, they realized how wrong that assumption was.
They gathered once again in the lecture hall, the atmosphere far more serious than before. Gone was the novelty of the first class. Today, the weight of reality pressed down on every student.
Christine stood at the front, hands resting lightly on the desk.
"Do you know what an aether absorption art is?" she asked.
Many students nodded. Some murmured confirmations.
"It is," Christine continued, "the method by which an awakened refines aether within their body. Without it, advancement is impossible."
She paused, letting the words sink in.
"Advancement requires refinement," she said. "To reach Tier 1, you must refine one thousand units of aether."
The room stirred.
"To advance further," she went on, "Tier 2 requires ten times that—ten thousand. Tier 3 requires another tenfold increase."
Fred's eyes widened.
He raised his hand, then stood up abruptly. "That means Tier 4 requires… one million aether refinement?"
The room fell silent.
Christine's gaze snapped to him.
Her expression darkened. "Sit down."
Fred froze, then hurriedly complied.
"It is beyond your level to think about Tier 4," Christine said coldly. "Do not concern yourselves with realms you cannot reach."
The pressure in the room thickened.
Then Christine waved her hand.
The manuals on her desk lifted into the air, floating gracefully before dispersing toward the students. Each manual landed softly on a desk.
"These are your aether refinement arts," she said. "Study them well."
She demonstrated the process—how to sense surrounding aether, how to guide it inward, how to circulate it safely without damaging the body.
Evan watched intently.
Every movement, every explanation—he memorized it all.
"This month," Christine concluded, "you will focus solely on preparation for the ranking tournament. Major instructors and senior students will be watching. The rewards will be… lucrative."
A student raised their hand. "Why would senior students watch us?"
Christine smiled faintly. "You will understand in time."
Then she dismissed the class.
The hall erupted into noise as students eagerly opened their manuals, excitement and anxiety mixing in equal measure.
Evan sat quietly.
He understood now.
This academy wasn't just training soldiers.
It was forging survivors.
The class was soon dismissed.
They returned to their room without much conversation, both of them carrying the same thought in their minds. Before sitting down, Fred turned serious for once.
"Let's make a pact," he said. "When refinement is going on, no disturbing each other. No talking, no jokes."
Evan nodded immediately. "Agreed."
For Evan, this wasn't just ordinary cultivation. He was especially excited—almost restless—about the prospect of refinement. He knew something Fred didn't. No matter how fast or slow he refined during the day, his aether refinement would be ten percent faster at night because of Star Refiner. This was a head start no manual or merit could buy.
Both of them sat down cross-legged, backs straight, manuals placed beside them. Slowly, they began to follow the instructions—sensing the surrounding aether, guiding it inward, letting it circulate through their bodies.
Time passed quietly.
When Evan finally opened his eyes, his body felt light yet faintly sore. He glanced at the wall clock.
8:00 PM.
Five hours had passed.
He summoned his panel.
[Aether refined: 5]
"So… one unit per hour," Evan murmured to himself.
It was slower than he had hoped, but it was still refinement—real progress. As he stood up and stretched, he noticed Fred staring at him with bright, excited eyes.
Seeing Evan awake, Fred jumped up from his chair. "How did it go?"
Evan smiled honestly. "I refined five units."
Fred's face lit up. "Same! But I did it in four hours!"
Evan's smile stiffened slightly.
He knew Fred had an earth affinity—high-grade, just like his uncle Justin. Still, hearing it confirmed made things clearer. Even within the same talent level, differences existed. Fred's refinement speed was roughly twenty-five percent faster than his own.
Instead of feeling discouraged, Evan felt… grateful.
Grateful that he had the Star System.
Without it, the gap would only grow wider.
They headed to the cafeteria after that. Fred, true to his nickname, ate two full plates of beast meat, while Evan stuck to one.
"It's necessary," Fred said seriously while chewing. "More nutrition means better absorption."
Evan didn't argue.
After dinner, they went straight back to their room. Fred yawned loudly.
"Don't overexert yourself," he warned. "Just refine for a few hours."
Evan nodded—but inwardly, anticipation surged.
The stars were bright tonight.
As Evan sat down and began refining again, he felt something different. The moment he connected to the surrounding aether, a deep sense of calm washed over him. It was as if the stars above were watching, guiding the flow within his body.
The refinement felt smoother. Easier.
Fred stopped after four hours, glanced once at Evan—who was still refining—and shook his head before going to sleep.
The next morning, Fred woke up around 8 AM. There were no classes today, only meals and self-training. He rubbed his eyes and looked toward Evan.
Evan was still refining.
Fred frowned, confused, but decided to wait.
It wasn't until 9 AM that Evan finally opened his eyes.
The moment he did, a surge of satisfaction filled him. He knew he had refined for a long time. Calmly, he checked the system clock—9:00.
Then his panel.
[Aether refined: 20]
Evan froze.
That meant he had refined fifteen units overnight.
His expected amount should have been thirteen at most. Where did the extra two come from?
As he was contemplating, he noticed Fred staring at him suspiciously.
"Good morning," Evan said casually.
Fred narrowed his eyes. "Why did you refine all night?"
Evan lied without hesitation. "I slept. Woke up early to refine."
Fred nodded, impressed. "Hardworking."
Fred revealed he had refined seven units overnight.
Evan responded carefully. "I refined six."
That made Fred's total ten—perfectly believable.
But Evan's mind was racing.
Fred shouldn't have refined seven units.
When Evan asked, Fred answered simply, "Extra plate of meat last night. It helps."
Everything clicked.
Those who invested more in food would refine faster.
Evan leaned back, eyes calm.
With 300 merits, he wasn't just surviving.
He was ahead.