Inside the massive auditorium of the Royal Knight Academy, more than a hundred newly accepted recruits filled the rising rows of seats beneath glowing crystal lights.
Some recruits talked excitedly. Others were stiff with nerves.
Mana drifted faintly through the air from the countless young mages gathered in one place.
Then the large doors behind the stage opened.
Silence gradually spread as a short but broad-shouldered soldier marched onto the elevated podium with heavy, deliberate steps.
Scars stretched across his dark face, one running directly through his eyebrow, while his military coat rested perfectly over a battle-worn frame.
Several soldiers stood stationed beneath the stage as the man stopped at the center podium, hands folded behind his back.
His sharp green eyes scanned the hall.
"Good afternoon, recruits." He said.
Despite not raising his voice, every word carried effortlessly through the auditorium.
"I am Colonel Johan, overseer of the Royal Knight Academy. On behalf of the Royal Council… welcome to the military arms of the South-Land."
Several recruits erupted into cheers immediately.
Others simply looked overwhelmed.
Johan began pacing slowly across the stage while the applause faded.
"As most of you already know," He continued, "the South-Land's military is divided into two primary factions."
He gestured at the large monument behind him, where two separate symbols were spread on each side.
"The Royal Army." He pointed at the symbol on his right side, a golden shield with the emblem S across its black striped surface.
"And… the Royal Magic Knights." He then gestured at the other side, the golden bow-and-arrow symbol proudly displayed for all to see.
His boots echoed softly across the stage.
"The Army serves as the nation's primary military force. They defend cities, maintain order, patrol borders, and, if the situation calls for it, fight wars on a large scale."
He stopped walking, his body turned towards the Knight's symbol.
"The Knights are different." He said, his tone suddenly sharp and firm. "And because of that difference… many soldiers despise them."
The room stirred immediately.
But Johan ignored it.
"They see the Knights as arrogant mages who skip through the military hierarchy through raw power alone."
His gaze sharpened.
"To them, the Knights are reckless. Unstable. Self-important." He paused, gaze growing distant. "A disgrace to real soldiers."
Murmurs spread through the hall.
"And…" He added, turning his gaze back to the recruits. "…as a former Army Captain myself," He tapped his uniform, which bore both military symbols in its fabric. "…I understand why they think that way."
The room stirred again, this time, more noticeably.
Half of them murmured among themselves, some conflicted, others angered.
Dom's fists clenched instinctively.
Bullshit, He thought—but someone else was faster to voice it.
"That's bullshit!"
One older recruit shot to his feet.
"I've spent the last five years trying to get accepted here!" he shouted furiously. "I worked my ass off to get stronger and nearly died during the exams! How the hell does that make us disgraceful?!"
"Yeah!" Another recruit yelled. "The Knights saved my village from wild beasts when I was a kid! Where was the Army when my sister almost died?!"
More voices joined in, causing the auditorium to rapidly descend into chaos.
"QUIET DOWN!" One of the soldiers barked from below the stage.
But nobody listened; the noise consumed his words effortlessly.
Johan simply stood there, watching the dissatisfied recruits, then closed his eyes.
In that moment, Dom frowned from his seat near the middle rows.
His instincts immediately told him that something felt… wrong.
The air itself suddenly grew heavier, but it wasn't from the protesting recruits.
The serious black-haired teen from earlier noticed it too, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Even Roger's expression grew uneasy, drawing a confused stare from his lackey seated beside him in the back row.
Then--
Johan opened his eyes fully, and a wave of green mana instantly swept across the hall.
Pain exploded through Dom's skull, his hand immediately grabbing his head with a grimace as it felt like hot, invisible claws were digging through his brain.
Around him, recruits cried out in pain.
Some collapsed against their seats.
Others groaned while clutching their temples.
The older recruit who started shouting nearly fell out of his seat entirely.
"A mind-based spell?" The black-haired teen muttered through gritted teeth while Roger groaned as his green mana shrouded his body, instinctively forming a barrier around himself, which still failed to stop the spell attacking his mind.
The crushing psychic pressure lasted only seconds.
Then Johan suppressed his spell.
The recruits gasped collectively as the pain disappeared, finally allowing them to draw in the breath their lungs desperately needed.
As they attempted to regain themselves, Johan stared down at them emotionlessly.
"I don't remember giving any of you permission to speak," He said calmly.
Silence swallowed the room instantly.
Even the air itself felt tense now as his words and glowing gaze shut down all thoughts of riot or arguments easily.
Dom slowly rubbed his temple, a shaky grin creeping onto his face despite the lingering headache. This guy's insane.
Once Johan gave them enough time to recover, he resumed pacing.
"It's true that power determines status among the Knights. I won't deny that," He continued. "A talented recruit can even rise to the rank of General faster than soldiers who've served for decades."
His expression remained unreadable.
"But what the soldiers failed to remember…"
A smirk formed on his lips.
"...was that power was why the Knights were created in the first place."
He gestured toward the massive mural hanging behind the stage, an artistic depiction of the eight legendary figures locked in battle against towering monsters and armies alike.
"Even among the Monarchs, the very first Magic Knights… " He said, pointing at a certain mage flying over the others, a confident grin on his face as he rained flames down on countless enemies.
"Only General Anthony was an actual soldier."
Then his hand lowered as he glanced at the other seven.
"The others were commoners… nobles…mercenaries and…" He paused.
His eyes sharpened as they were directly on Ethan, his white armor and cape catching the light elegantly as he confidently led his team into battle.
"... even former criminals." He added, his voice hardened with heavy nostalgia.
Dom didn't notice that dark tone as his eyes remained on the painting, warmth flushing through his cheek as he stared at the younger Anthony like a fanboy.
"The Knights weren't made for soldiers." Johan continued as he turned towards the recruits.
"They were created for monsters."
The words settled heavily across the hall.
"Mages capable of handling situations that ordinary military forces physically cannot. Operations too dangerous for battalions. Threats too powerful for normal soldiers. In other words…"
His gaze grew darker as he calmly walked towards them.
"Jobs only the Monarchs themselves could handle."
A majority of the recruits stiffened instantly.
At this point, it was common knowledge that the Monarchs were the strongest.
Just like Ethan's clash with the East-Land army during the war at Kingdom Zero. The event that began the spark of the Monarchs and his mark as the 'Emperor of the World,' as he decimated thousands of soldiers single-handedly.
Or Anthony's mighty clash with over a hundred Giants at the dreaded Dead-man's Plains, one of the Westland's most formidable strongholds. The legendary battle that earned him the title of 'the Dragon' as he left everything behind him in ashes.
Each of the Monarchs held power so unbelievably broken, feats so inhumane that the balance of the world literally shifted in their presence.
To think that these recruits would be sent on missions, dangers, and disasters that would require that much power… it made their skin grow cold.
"That's why our entrance exams are brutal," Johan said, his stern voice reaching the auditorium as he stopped just before the edge of the stage.
His gaze then drifted to the first rioter, the single stare sending a chill through the targeted recruit's spine.
"Of course it won't be the same thing the Monarchs went through, but Knights still face worse shit on the field." He said, "If you can't handle that at your base level, then you're just not cut out for this."
The rioter in question frowned, slowly lowering his head as he finally saw the logic in his numerous rejections.
Johan folded his arms and then turned to the others.
"Results matter above everything else here. That's this Academy's aim."
His glowing eyes sharpened.
"We're going to turn every one of you into monsters powerful enough to survive impossible situations. Just like the Monarchs did."
Most recruits swallowed nervously.
Some, like the dark-haired teen and Roger, were indifferent.
But… a few… looked excited.
Dom was definitely one of them.
Johan closed his eyes briefly, his chin lifted. "The average citizen has E-Class or D-class magic."
He motioned toward the soldiers stationed below the stage.
"Most Army soldiers remain within D-Class or C-class for their entire careers. Thought here are some guys like the 5-Star General who've gone beyond this, but it's still just a handful."
Then he looked back toward the recruits.
"The Royal Knights are expected to be B-Class minimum."
A ripple spread through the auditorium.
Even recruits who understood magic rankings seemed stunned hearing it spoken aloud. From the weakest and most common Class, E, the chance of attaining higher classes drops.
For B-Class, only about one in a thousand mages are likely to reach that class even with dedicated, rigorous training.
"Some of you are already approaching that level." Johan continued. "The rest possess the potential to reach it eventually. Otherwise, you would not be here."
His eyes hardened again.
"Bu potential means nothing by itself."
The atmosphere grew colder as he examined each of them, his mana-infused gaze looking past their physical appearance and peering into their minds.
"Over the next three years, this Academy will break you down and rebuild you into something far beyond ordinary mages."
Several recruits visibly stiffened at the statement.
Johan let the silence linger before raising a single finger.
"So here are a few things you fledglings need to understand before training starts."
A few recruits straightened nervously.
"First…" Johan continued, pacing slowly across the podium. "Once you leave this place, don't listen to those Army fanatics whining about how arrogant the Knights are."
His lips curled slightly.
"For centuries, the Royal Army threw bodies at problems they couldn't solve."
He gestured toward the massive portrait of the Monarchs behind him.
"Then the first Magic Knights appeared and accomplished in mere months what entire military divisions failed to achieve in generations."
A few recruits cheered loudly at that.
Johan immediately raised another finger, killing those cheers instantly.
"Don't misunderstand me," He said coldly. "The Army still matters. They outnumber the Knights, a thousand to one, and their role is still important to securing this nation."
His glowing green eyes swept across the hall.
"You'll earn combat, tactics, discipline, survival, teamwork, leadership…all the fundamentals of a proper soldier." He folded his arms behind his back. "Because despite what the Army thinks, we are still this country's warriors…just like them."
"Yeah!" One recruit shouted proudly, earning a few approving nods from nearby soldiers.
"Finally…" Johan said, his scary gaze and tone once again silencing their cheers.
"That special power is exactly why your life will be harder than any ordinary soldier's. They won't be able to comprehend the kind of hell you're about to experience."
Uneasy whispers spread through the recruits.
Johan noticed it and sighed.
"I hate sugarcoating, so I'll just come out and say this."
He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes closed briefly.
"Despite their praise and attention, the Capital and its Council see us as tools."
Silence filled the room again, his words bouncing off the walls like an eerie echo.
"Weapons made to make their biggest, egotistic dreams come true." His stare hardened. "We're not just soldiers or heroes… we're escorts, bodyguards, assassins, hunters and sometimes… executioners."
The word 'executioners' immediately flashed back to Dom's mind to Anthony six years ago.
Elon's terrified face, his desperate attempt to escape, and the absolute lack of hesitation Anthony erased him from existence with his flames.
Johan continued speaking, gesturing calmly with one hand.
"Yes, some missions will involve protecting civilians or maintaining peace as expected."
His expression flattened.
"But others will involve situation ordinary soldiers physically cannot handle. Situations that may violate laws, morals, or even your own beliefs."
Several recruits shifted uncomfortably.
"And if you leak confidential information? Johan asked casually, his eyes glowing brighter. "You'll not only lose your status… but you might end up becoming a wanted criminal and hunted by other knights."
He shrugged.
"And most guys who go down that path end up tortured or executed. And trust me…" He muttered darkly. "…those deaths are rarely quick and painless."
The serious black-haired teen closed his eyes thoughtfully. Roger rested his chin on his hand, expression almost unfazed, while Dom remained completely focused.
"To prepare you for that reality…" Johan continued, hands on his hips. "… our training will simulate those impossible situations."
He finally stopped pacing and slowly looked over the entire hall, his expression cold and calculating.
"And from my experience since this Academy's introduction," He said calmly. "I can confidently bet that of the one hundred and fifty-three of you sitting here today…"
A pause.
"Fewer than thirty of you will graduate. The rest of you will either drop out…or die."
Several recruits visibly paled, with a girl near the back audibly gasping.
Johan took a moment to note their reactions, then turned away dismissively.
"So consider this your final warning." His voice echoed sharply through the hall. "If you don't have the balls for this life…" He glanced back one final time. "Leave."
Then he walked off the podium.
His words drowned the hall in a thick, suffocating silence.
No recruit moved or spoke.
The atmosphere resembled a graveyard more than a ceremony hall.
Eventually, one soldier stationed beneath the stage clicked his tongue irritably.
"I swear the Colonel enjoys traumatizing recruits," He grumbled. "I should've given that speech myself."
A nearby soldier snorted.
"What?" The annoyed soldier snapped defensively.
The older soldier smirked knowingly. "You're new here, so you don't get it yet…" He said.
The rookie soldier frowned, confused.
Another veteran stepped forward with folded arms. "Most people join the Knights thinking it's some fast track to fame, money, and noble status."
"They see the uniforms," Another soldier added, "the prestige… the stories. But they don't understand the pressure."
A third soldier shrugged. "If we soften our approach," She said. "… we might get more knights…but most of them will crack the moment reality hits."
"And when broken mages snap…"
Johan's voice suddenly cut through their conversation as he approached, a hand tucked in his pocket and a cigarette already between his lips.
"...people die."
The soldiers immediately straightened.
"Sir!"
"At ease," Johan muttered while lighting the cigarette.
The soldiers relaxed again as smoke curled upward into the air.
"And weak Knights are worse than useless," Johan continued calmly. "Because once power and instability mix…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "…you end up with monsters like the Mage Cannibal from six years ago."
Several soldiers went quiet.
Johan took another drag and then turned to the female soldier. "Sergeant Sandra," He added, gesturing at the stage.
The officer nodded and stepped onto the podium to continue the ceremony.
The rookie hesitated before speaking again.
"If I may, Colonel? I understand why you're doing this, but isn't there a… more efficient way?" He asked, his gaze serious.
Johan stared at him for a moment, eyes examining him like a textbook before exhaling a puff of smoke into the air. "You're the new trainer sent by the Council, right?" He said, tapping the ash against his finger, "Let me guess… they told you to find a way to produce more knights for them?"
The rookie froze… shocked by Johan's accuracy assessment even though he was sure his mind was protected.
Johan then gave him a pointed glare. "Tell those selfish bastards to forget it." He scoffed, his tone hardened immediately. "I'm not lowering my standards just so they can mass-produce disposable Knights."
The rookie gritted his teeth and gestured toward the auditorium.
"Look at them." He argued quietly. "The training hasn't even started, and half of them already look terrified."
"Good," Johan replied instantly.
The rookie blinked, speechless.
Johan took another drag before explaining.
"Fear filters out idiots faster than training ever could."
Several veteran soldiers smirked knowingly.
"Unlike the Army, we prioritize quality over quantity. If I water down my methods, all I'll create are liabilities."
His eyes narrowed.
"And when those liabilities start creating problems, the Council will be the first pricks to blame me for it."
Another cloud of smoke drifted from his mouth, causing the rookie to cough slightly.
Then Johan smirked.
"Besides…"
His gaze shifted subtly toward the recruits. "You're only paying attention to the weak ones. The next generation of monsters is already cooking."
With that, he walked away.
The rookie remained standing there awkwardly while several older officers exchanged knowing smiles.
Even Sergeant Sandra--now continuing the ceremony announcements from the podium--had noticed it.
Despite the fear gripping most recruits, a small handful remained completely unfazed.
Some looked determined. Others looked excited. And the rest…looked dangerous.
Dom sat among them with a wide grin stretched across his face as he stared at her, eager to tackle any challenge sent his way.
Thirty minutes later…
The recruits were guided around the Academy grounds, touring training arenas, combat halls, libraries, dormitories, and mana testing facilities they'd spend the next three years using.
But before the tour even ended, some recruits had already quit due to the implied pressure.
Dom watched them leave silently.
Not mockingly.
Just thoughtfully…
Later that night, after dinner…
The first-year recruits finally entered the dormitory sector where their belongings had already been delivered.
Dozens wandered through the hall searching for room numbers while introducing themselves awkwardly to future partners.
Dom glanced down at the paper in his hand while walking through the corridor.
Since the Academy operated on a partnership system, roommates would remain assigned partners throughout the entire program unless one graduated, dropped out…
Or died.
Eventually, he stopped in front of his assigned room.
He stared at the number, confirming it, then grabbed the handle with cautious optimism.
"Alright," He whispered dramatically. "Give me somebody fun."
He pushed the door open…and immediately froze.
Inside the room, calmly making his bed with perfect precision… was the same black-haired teen from earlier… the rule-book psychopath.
The teen looked up slowly, and their eyes met.
Silence dragged between them, long and painful.
Then Dom slapped a hand over his face with a loud groan. "For fuck's sake…"