Landen struggled, twisting his body as he tried to break free—but the officers didn't budge.
"Let me go!" he shouted, pulling against the cuffs. "You really think death is a fair punishment for streaking in public?!"
"Calm down, kid!" one of them snapped, tightening his grip.
The other shook his head with a sigh. "This kid really doesn't want to go to school."
Back at the detention center, after a full examination, the officers had estimated his age to be around seventeen or eighteen. In this world, that meant one thing—mandatory enrollment. Anyone within that age range was required to attend a military academy training until they were eligible to be officially drafted at twenty.
The school was located right outside the city. Its campus was quite large, spanning over four thousand acres of land. In addition to its classrooms and research facilities, it featured exclusive housing for both students and faculty, vast training grounds, and multiple specialized arenas. Among them was one of the largest battle arenas in the region, capable of hosting major professional tournaments.
Out of all the schools available, Aegis Vanguard Military Academy was considered the highest-ranking school in the nation. Kids with the highest honors in all aspects have been either recommended or scouted to come here.
And coincidentally, today was freshman orientation to begin the new school year. Kids from all over the country have come here to learn from the very best.
As they walked the corridor, Landen watched the event. There were hundreds—no, maybe even thousands—of people, their voices blending into a constant roar. Rows stretched endlessly, packed with students, all focused on the stage.
"Now, please welcome to the stage," the amplified voice boomed, "Chief Marshal Vanderbilt."
The entire crowd erupted into thunderous applause, and from the side of the stage, an older man emerged. He walked with steady steps as if he had all the time in the world.
A long white beard flowed down his chest, and in one hand, he carried a large wooden staff. Draped over his frame was an aged green robe, simple in design, yet carrying an unmistakable weight of authority.
But it wasn't his appearance that commanded attention. It was his presence. The moment he stepped fully onto the stage, the atmosphere shifted, and the crowd instinctively lowered its voice in respect.
Stopping at the center of the stage, he planted his staff firmly against the ground.
Thud.
The sound echoed through the arena, and silence quickly followed. He paused, scanning the crowd as each student waited anxiously to be recognized.
Then he spoke.
"Sons and daughters, warriors and mages. Future leaders of this land… welcome to Aegis Vanguard Military Academy.
Everyone cheered for a minute—then he slowly lifted a hand to silence the crowd. He continued.
"This academy was not built for comfort. It was built for one purpose… to create legends.
"From these halls have risen names that shaped history—General Saud, Captain Warrior Zeus, and many more. They were not born extraordinary. They stood where you stand now—unproven, uncertain, yet filled with possibility."
"And today, you stand at the same beginning they once did."
"You were chosen because you carry potential. But do not misunderstand me… potential is not strength. It will not win wars. It will not protect your loved ones. It will not carve your name into history."
"But at Aegis, we will push you to your full potential and beyond. You will face trials that will test your will, your strength, and your mind. You will struggle. You will doubt yourselves. And in those moments…you will decide who you truly are."
He raised his staff slightly, his voice rising once more.
"So I ask you—will you remain as you are?... Or will you rise beyond what you ever believed possible?"
He drove the staff against the ground, and a loud boom echoed throughout the area.
The crowd sat in silence as the echo resonated.
He continued.
"Because from this day forward, you are no longer children chasing dreams… You are warriors in the making…"
He opened his arms high.
"This is your moment… to carve your name into history."
For a heartbeat, no one moved or dared to breathe.
Then—the arena exploded.
The crowd erupted into a deafening roar that shook the arena. Cheers crashed together like thunder, wave after wave of raw excitement and burning ambition.
This was why they were here—and Vanderbilt had captured it perfectly. The idea of becoming one of the strongest warriors in the world wasn't just a dream—it was everything. The strongest warriors stood at the peak of society—respected, wealthy, and honored above all others. They were the leaders and protectors of the land, wielding unimaginable power. People looked up to them as role models… as heroes. And now, the path to the top stood open before them.
With that, Vanderbilt gave a final nod and went and sat down at the back of the stage.
A woman walked on to take his place, but Landen couldn't take his eyes off Vanderbilt. There was something about him that he had never felt before. Something out of this world, but what, he couldn't tell.
As Landen and his group walked, a few students began to notice them. One by one, heads turned, and Landen stared back, his expression hard and unyielding. In his mind, they were all here to witness his death—and the thought that anyone could find entertainment in watching someone be killed filled him with disgust.
Seeing him, whispers began to spread.
"Look at that prisoner being escorted by the police. And he's wearing a red jumpsuit."
"Wait, red means that he's an extremely dangerous criminal."
"Why are they bringing someone like that here?"
More and more murmurs and gasps began popping up throughout the crowd.
"He looks like he's being taken to his execution."
"Aww shit, I made eye contact with him. He looks like he wants to come out and kill me."
"I think I'm going to have nightmares."
Amid the commotion, the woman on stage continued speaking without pause. She was Professor Celestine Varro—a middle-aged woman who still retained the beauty of her youth, though she seemed to downplay it behind a pair of glasses and her long black ponytail. She was almost always seen carrying a large book, a clear sign of its importance to her.
Celestine was now explaining the instructions for the students' first test.
"This here is an Essence Reader," she said, revealing a large machine. At its front was a wide, barrel-like structure resembling a gun, with a display screen mounted along its side.
She continued, "This highly sophisticated device is used to measure the energy within your dantian. For those unfamiliar with the term, allow me to explain."
She pressed a button on a controller, and an image appeared on the large display at the center of the stage.
"This is a representation of your body. At its core lies the source of all your power—the dantian."
The image zoomed in, focusing on the center of the body.
"Within the dantian resides your energy. On the left is your light energy, in the center is your soul energy, and on the right is your dark energy. Light and dark energy serve as the sources of your power, while soul energy determines your abilities, attributes, and overall capabilities."
Celestine turned and gestured towards the machine.
"This device here can measure your total light and dark energy, which will determine your Essence Grade."
She clicked another button, and the screen changed again.
"This table you see here shows the first seven Essence Grades associated with the Total Energy Level within your dantian."
Grade: Total Energy Level
Civilian: 0-10
Elementary 1: 11-50
Elementary 2: 50-100
Elementary 3: 100-200
Intermediate 1: 200-400
Intermediate 2: 400-1,000
Intermediate 3: 1,000-2,000
"As a new student, we expect you to be part of these seven grades. Most of you will be stuck within these grades for the entirety of your lifetime. However, a few of you will excel over the others and break into the elite grades."
She clicked another button, and a list of elite grades displayed.
Advance
Master
Grand Master
Renowned
As the presentation went on, Landen's group moved along the side of the stage. Ahead of them was a door leading out, while the entrance to the stage sat off to the left.
Maybe I'm overthinking this, Landen told himself. They're not going to kill me. There's no way.
He kept his eyes fixed forward—the exit was right there. To the left was the stage.
If we turn left, I'm dead. If we go straight, I'm free.
They kept walking, drawing closer.
Don't turn left.
Closer.
Don't turn left.
The moment of truth.
DON'T TURN LEFT.
They went straight toward the exit, and Landen let out a quiet sigh of relief. But just as Ray reached for the door, Doe turned and addressed a man standing nearby.
"We're meeting with Chief Marshal Gordon Vanderbilt?" Doe asked.
The doorman gestured toward the stage.
Landen's eyes widened. "No!" he shouted—but it was too late. Ray shoved him forward and onto the stage.