The South-Land Royal Capital.
The beating heart of the South-Land overflowed with life.
Massive streets stretched endlessly between towering buildings of marble, steel, and enchanted stone, their surfaces reflecting the warm golden sunlight overhead.
Beast-pulled carriages rolled across busy roads while merchants shouted over one another beneath glowing magic signs.
Mana drifted faintly through the air like invisible mist, woven so deeply into civilization that even ordinary citizens carried traces of it around their bodies.
At nearly two hundred and fifty square kilometers, the capital housed millions of every rank and nobility, each moving with purpose or ambition.
Among the city's most famous landmarks stood the Royal Castle, home to the ruling monarchy, and the colossal Royal Army Headquarters--the military nerve center of the entire nation and home of the legendary Royal Magic Knights.
But entering the capital itself was no simple matter.
At one of the eight enormous gates, crowds of travelers, merchants, and hopeful migrants stood packed together beneath the watchful eyes of heavily armed guards.
"Next!" One guard barked loudly, waving another caravan forward for inspection.
Nearby, a young woman frantically dug through her handbag.
"Where is it?" She muttered anxiously. "Frank's gonna kill me if I lose those files…"
Her expression quickly brightened, relief washing over her the moment she spotted the papers buried beneath several makeup kits.
Then suddenly--
A scrawny man snatched the bag from her hands and bolted.
"No! HEY! THIEF!" She screamed
Two nearby guards immediately sprinted after him.
But the thief looked over his shoulder with a grin.
Mana flashed across his legs as they suddenly morphed into powerful deer-like limbs. His body launched forward with explosive speed, instantly widening the distance between himself and the guards.
"Damn." One guard cursed.
The thief laughed triumphantly, his escape imminent--
Then a muscular forearm smashed into his face with an audible smack.
His body spun violently, his inertia launching him into the air before crashing face-first into the pavement with a lifeless thud.
The stolen bag never even touched the ground as that same hand causally caught it midair.
The guards skidded to a stop as the figure turned towards them.
"Here, officers." He said, raising the bag for them.
But both guards froze once they set their sights on this self-motivated hero.
Now sixteen years old and already standing at 5'8", Dom looked too mature for his age.
He wore a sleeveless blue-black hoodie, faded jeans, and old sneakers that had clearly survived years of abuse. Despite the casual clothes, his lean physique looked unnaturally toned beneath the fabric, a clear proof of years of intense training.
Dom glanced between the guards awkwardly once he noticed their stunned expression. "What?" He asked, subconsciously, about the long scar on his left cheek, the irreversible reminder of his near-death encounter six years ago.
The male guard slowly took the bag while eyeing the unconscious thief beside Dom.
"It's nothing.. Thanks," He muttered carefully.
Dom nodded once before glancing toward the moving line behind them.
"Shit," Dom grumbled, shoving the bag fully into the guard's hands and jogging back toward the checkpoint before someone stole his place.
The male guard stared after him.
"Something tells me that boy's here to join the knights," He commented, eyeing Dom as he argued with someone further down the line, then glanced back at the motionless thief.
"Seriously… these recruits are getting crazier every year," He added, shaking his head. Then his gaze flicked to the female guard, who hadn't taken her eyes off Dom.
He narrowed his eyes at her before realization dawned. "Are you… blushing?"
She immediately looked away, flustered, clearing her throat loudly. "Let's just get this guy into custody," She said as she conjured a puff of pink clouds that lifted the thief's body off the ground.
"Oh no… we need to talk about this pedophile vibe you've got going on," The male guard teased, grinning.
"Shut up," She snapped, storming away with the thief while the male guard chuckled as he returned the bag to its rightful owner.
Fifteen minutes later…
Dom finally reached the front of the checkpoint line. As he dropped his bag for inspection by some guards, a tired-looking official checked his admission papers.
The official looked up slowly.
"So…" He sighed. "You mean to tell me your folks let a kid like you travel all the way here alone?"
"Unfortunately," Dom sighed, arms folded as he immediately remembered Pops' last words at his hometown gate just before his three-day journey.
< "I only had enough saved for one trip, so you're on your own. Just stay away from sketchy-looking men or women, and you'll be fine… mostly." >
Dom snorted quietly at the memory. That dismissive yet still caring advice was so characteristic of Pops.
Meanwhile, the official shook his head in disbelief before stamping the papers. "Welcome to the Royal Capital, kid." He muttered while handing them back. "Try not to get lost."
Dom grinned as he tucked the pass safely away, excitement bubbling as he moved past the checkpoint.
Moments later, he stepped beyond the city gates, and his grin widened at the massive scenery before him.
Mana lanterns hovered overhead while enchanted advertisements glowed across towering walls. Carriages rolled endlessly across cobblestone roads as merchants shouted beneath colorful storefronts.
Even ordinary civilians radiated faint mana signatures.
Dom slowly removed his hood, revealing his clean temp-fade haircut as cool air brushed against his face.
"I'm finally here…" He whispered.
Some pedestrians glanced his way uneasily after noticing the scar across his cheek and the intensity in his eyes.
Dom ignored them completely.
Instead, he pulled out his admission letter and stopped a passerby for directions.
Half an hour later…
Dom wandered through the massive grounds of the Royal Knight Academy.
Tall marble buildings towered overhead while recruits filled the campus pathways carrying luggage and unique attire. Some laughed confidently in groups while others nervously practiced spells beneath nearby trees.
The academy practically hummed with mana.
After dropping his belongings inside the assigned dormitory building, Dom decided to explore before the opening ceremony began.
Eventually, his wandering led him toward a massive stone courtyard.
And there--
He stopped, eyes set on the elegant monument before him with eight towering statues overlooking the academy grounds.
The Monarchs.
The legendary heroes who ended the Five-Hundred-Year War and founded the Royal Magic Knights.
Each statue radiated an overwhelming presence even while standing motionless in stone.
Dom's gaze slowly drifted across each monument before finally stopping on one.
A huge man standing proudly with a flaming fist raised toward the sky.
Anthony.
Despite six years having passed since they met, Dom still remembered him perfectly.
The smile. The pressure. The fire.
And…the promise.
Dom's fists tightened unconsciously.
A nearby burst of laughter pulled him from the memory.
Groups of young recruits gathered throughout the courtyard, many openly displaying mana as they talked or sparred casually.
His attention was then drawn by a laugh. Nearby, young mages laughed and socialized, each in their own world.
Dom's gaze swept across them slowly.
So these are the guys I'm up against…
A grin spread across his face.
Heh… bring it on,
The expression looked threatening enough that a nearby boy instinctively stepped away from him nervously.
Then--
"Ahem."
Dom turned.
A sharply dressed teenage boy stood nearby wearing expensive formal clothing embroidered with noble insignia. Another boy hovered slightly behind him like an obedient shadow.
The noble sneered immediately, noticing Dom's cheap clothes. "Move aside, commoner," He said, his tone dripping with condescension.
Dom stared at him blankly for several seconds.
Then sighed.
Great. Another Matt,
"Sure," He muttered tiredly. "Whatever, dude. Go crazy."
He turned to leave.
"Wait."
Dom stopped halfway.
The noble's expression darkened.
"Didn't your parents teach you proper manners?" He asked coldly. "You're supposed to bow to someone of higher status than you."
Dom blinked slowly.
"Bro…" He said flatly. "I don't even know who you are."
The noble's face twitched violently.
Before he could respond, the lackey stepped forward furiously.
His nostrils flared, and his fists clenched as if Dom's words were a personal attack.
"Have you been living under a rock?" He snapped. "He's Roger Reginald, third son of the Reginald Noble Family."
He spread his arms dramatically. "One of the Four Great Noble Houses of South-Land."
"And I still don't care," Dom replied immediately, his hand waving dismissively.
Roger's brow twitched again.
Dom noticed it and sighed heavily, dragging his hand down his face. "Look, man, I just got here after a long trip. I'm tired, hungry, and I still need to survive some boring ceremony before I can sleep."
He pointed lazily between them.
"So, whatever rich-people ego problem this is? We can deal with it later. Uh…"
"Roger Reginald," The lackey snapped furiously.
Dom clicked his fingers. "Yeah, that." He gave an awkward thumbs-up. "So… bye."
He turned and started walking away again.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
A pulse of green mana bled from Roger's body, rippling through the air hard enough to make nearby recruits glance over nervously.
"You lowborn piece of trash," Roger growled, raising his hand.
Dom stopped mid-step.
Slowly, he turned halfway back.
His glowering blue eyes were already locked onto Roger's arm before it fully rose. Every muscle in his body tightened instinctively, years of brutal training immediately kicking in.
Then--
A second hand suddenly shot into view and grabbed Roger's wrist before he could cast his spell. The grip landed with enough force to make the air crack softly.
Everyone turned.
A tall boy stood beside Roger now, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere.
He looked around Dom's age, maybe slightly older, with smooth ivory skin and neat black hair that fell in a curtain fringe across sharp, serious eyes.
His formal clothing stood out immediately among the other recruits: a crisp white shirt tucked perfectly into black trousers with polished black shoes spotless despite the dusty academy grounds.
But what stood out most… was his stare.
Cold.
Calm.
Precise.
The kind of eyes that looked like they measured everything.
"Unhand me," Roger demanded immediately, trying to yank his arm free… but the boy didn't budge.
Dom's eyes narrowed slightly.
…He's strong.
Dom concluded once he realized that the boy barely used any mana. His raw physical grip strength was more than enough to completely stop Roger from moving.
"It's against regulations to fight on unauthorized grounds," The black-haired teen stated calmly.
His voice wasn't loud.
Yet somehow it carried more authority than Roger's nobility.
Roger gritted his teeth and pulled harder.
But nothing happened.
For the first time, genuine panic flickered across his face.
"W-What are you doing?" The lackey barked, stepping forward aggressively. "Do you have any idea who you're touching?!"
The teen's violent eyes shifted toward him.
The lackey froze instantly.
It wasn't even mana pressure… just a look.
"As long as His Grace understands that even he has to follow the rules," The teen replied calmly, tightening his grip slightly.
Roger hissed in pain.
"Okay! Okay!" He snapped quickly. " I understand! Now let go!"
The teen studied him for another second.
Then released him.
Roger immediately stumbled backward, clutching his reddened wrist while his lackey hovered beside him anxiously.
Dom folded his arms slowly, his glowing eyes fading back to normal as the tension left his body.
He didn't even use that much mana… He thought; his gaze drifted toward Roger. And that noble couldn't do a thing.
Then his eyes returned to the back-haired teen.
A grin slowly spread across Dom's face
Okay… This guy might actually be fun.
After confirming Roger wasn't stupid enough to attack again, the teen finally turned toward Dom.
His expression remained just as stern.
"And you," he said.
Dom blinked, pointing at himself. "Me?"
The teen stepped closer, now slightly taller than Dom up close.
"Even if you didn't initiate the conflict," He stated firmly, "your responses intentionally provoked him further. So you're also at fault."
Dom stared at him blankly for two whole seconds.
Then slapped a hand dramatically across his forehead.
"Oh no…" He groaned. "You're one of those rule-book people, aren't you?"
The teen frowned faintly. "…What?"
"Strict posture. Formal speech. Emotionally constipated face." Dom pointed at him lazily. "You probably remind teachers about homework, too."
For the first time, the teen looked genuinely confused.
"... Emotionally constipated?"
"Yeah." Dom nodded seriously.
Roger stared between them in disbelief.
"Are you both insane?" He snapped.
Before either side could answer, a loud voice suddenly boomed across the courtyard.
"RECRUITS!"
A uniformed soldier marched toward them with an irritated expression.
"Quit standing around and move your asses! The welcome ceremony's about to start!"
The tension broke instantly.
Roger clicked his tongue bitterly before storming away with his lackey close behind.
Dom and the black-haired teen remained still for a moment longer, quietly studying one another.
Dom saw discipline…control… strength.
The teen saw confidence… instinct…danger.
Neither trusted the other.
With an awkward but tense energy, they followed the crowd toward the Welcome Ceremony, careful to give each other plenty of space.