Time seemed to slow, each heartbeat reverberating through his chest like a war drum. The air was thick with tension, the scent of earth and dust creeping into his lungs. Daven was coming at him fast, his arrogance radiating like a visible aura. But Adlet didn't feel fear. He felt something else—an urge to prove something, not just to Daven, but to himself. This wasn't just about a fight. This was about asserting his strength, his control.
He lunged forward, hands outstretched, his body coiled with the instinctive tension of someone ready to grab hold of his opponent's attack. This was his moment. Not to cower or retreat, but to meet Daven head-on and show that his strength was not something to be taken lightly. It wasn't just physical prowess—this was about the core of who he was.
A cloud of dust erupted where the two were about to collide. And in that instant, just before impact, a third figure appeared between them. The dust settled, and a man in Academy staff uniform stood there, holding both of their arms firmly, stopping them dead in their tracks.
"First warning for both of you. Fighting is strictly forbidden on Academy grounds," the man declared, his voice like a hammer striking an anvil.
Daven jerked his arm away, a flash of anger on his face, but the staff member didn't let go of Adlet until he saw the tension leave his body.
"This wasn't a fight. Just some greetings," Daven muttered, his voice dripping with feigned calm.
Adlet didn't respond. He couldn't find the energy to engage with Daven's arrogance. Instead, he turned and walked away, abandoning the spot that had momentarily felt like a battleground. It wasn't worth it.
A few dozen steps later, Florian jogged up beside him, matching his pace.
"Wait!" Florian called out.
"You're seriously following me again after that?" Adlet groaned, not bothering to hide his irritation.
"No… well, yes, but this time I just want to talk," Florian said, clearly trying to keep things light.
"Then talk," Adlet snapped, barely slowing his pace.
Florian hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Actually, the reason I've been following you is because I thought you didn't belong here. I wanted to prove how much better I was by training near you."
Adlet shot him a confused look, but Florian pressed on. "But after seeing Daven act like that, I realized how stupid I'd been. I wanted to apologize… and thank you for standing up for me."
Adlet frowned but gave a curt nod. "Fine, you're forgiven. Now, can you leave me alone?"
Florian hesitated again, then blurted, "Wait! There's more!"
"What now?" Adlet asked, feeling his annoyance grow.
"I realized something," Florian said, his voice more serious now. "We should train together."
Adlet shot him a sharp glance. "What do you mean, train together? We've been doing fine on our own."
Florian was undeterred. "Think about it—we're stuck here, in the Academy, cut off from the world with only this training ground. Doesn't that seem… strange?"
Adlet considered it. "Not really. It's normal for a Protector to train away from civilization. If we're cut off, it's probably to see what we're capable of without our masters holding our hands."
"But what if there's another reason?" Florian pressed. "What if the staff expects us to find partners on our own? Think about the vermin that attacked us—he came with a whole group. And since he's from a noble family, he's probably been given advice before coming here. What if they're setting us up to work together, to forge alliances?"
Adlet's mind churned. Florian had a point. Training with a fellow Protector could be far more effective than doing it alone, especially if they were expected to face threats together.
"But didn't the staff say fights are forbidden?" Adlet asked.
"This isn't a fight," Florian said, grinning. "This is cooperation."
Adlet's eyes narrowed, but he could feel the truth in Florian's words. "Fine. We can try it."
The two of them set off to find a more secluded training spot, away from the prying eyes of the Academy. After some searching, they chose a dense grove at the far end of the grounds, a place where they wouldn't be disturbed.
Florian's combat style was fluid, unpredictable, almost acrobatic. He moved from tree to tree, launching attacks from angles that Adlet wasn't always prepared for.
Adlet, in turn, focused on countering his partner's movements. His approach was more grounded, using grapples and destabilizing strikes, always looking for the opening. Neither of them used their Aura to avoid injury, sticking to physical techniques that forced them to rely on their raw abilities.
It wasn't about winning. It was about pushing each other, learning from each exchange, and growing stronger. They sparred for hours, and though neither could land a decisive blow, they both left that grove feeling the weight of progress.
Weeks passed. Their partnership flourished, and no staff member intervened—a clear sign they were on the right path.
The days blurred together as Adlet and Florian trained relentlessly. Each morning, they met in the grove, pushing their limits, honing their skills. By now, Adlet's grip on his Aura had grown more intuitive, more refined. He could feel its pulse, its resonance, as if it were an extension of his own body. His strikes had more reach, more power, and his agility had sharpened.
Florian, on the other hand, had taken to using his Aura in increasingly creative ways. His wolf-like tails became an extension of his will, allowing him to block attacks, propel himself through the air, or even use them as additional limbs to strike from unexpected angles. Adlet couldn't help but marvel at the fluidity with which Florian controlled his Aura, a stark contrast to Adlet's more methodical style.
Despite their differences, they complemented each other. Adlet's calculated maneuvers balanced Florian's chaos. They had become an effective team, each learning from the other, growing stronger by the day.
Once a week, all students gathered in the amphitheater for the Academy's only official lesson.
Adlet always dreaded these sessions. The lectures were long and dull, a rote recitation of facts that never seemed to stick. But today was different. Today, he had a reason to be present.
The subject was one that had always intrigued him: the history of the Kingdom of EFU.
As the amphitheater filled with students, Adlet found a seat, his curiosity piqued. The air was thick with murmurs of excitement as the professor finally took the stage. It wasn't just any instructor, though—it was Barno himself, the man who had first spoken to them about the harsh realities of the Academy.
Barno's voice cut through the room with a commanding presence that silenced the chatter. "As you all know," he began, "it is the year 978 of the royal calendar. That means our kingdom was founded nearly a millennium ago."
Adlet leaned forward, his attention sharp. The room was silent now, everyone listening intently.
"Let me tell you what we know about that era," Barno continued, his voice steady. "Millennia ago, humanity was weak, struggling to survive against the Apexes. These beasts roamed freely, unchecked, and humans were scattered, hiding in small groups, struggling to survive. Evolution moved slowly, and it wasn't until one man, Arden Astrea, broke the mold and evolved—forming his own Aura and granting the ability to assimilate it—that humans could finally compete with the Apexes."
Adlet's brow furrowed as he listened. He'd heard rumors about the kingdom's origins, but this was different. Arden Astrea—the first ancestor of the royal family—was the key to their survival. The Aura, that mysterious energy coursing through them all, had been a gift, an evolution. It was the very force that separated them from the beasts they fought.
Barno continued, "Arden Astrea's power still flows in the veins of the royal family today. The Kingdom of EFU was founded in the very spot where the royal city of Nest now stands. A century later, the capital, Tray, was established on a rocky plateau to the south. Over the centuries, humans consolidated their territories, defeating the plains beasts and establishing control over the land."
Adlet's gaze shifted to the stone walls of the amphitheater, the weight of history settling on him. He thought back to his village, where he had learned just enough about the world outside to know there was more at stake than survival. Protectors weren't just guardians; they were the key to humanity's future.
Barno's voice softened, though the message was clear. "Three noble families—Dryad, Neraid, and Horus—emerged as Protectors. They controlled the regions that contained the most dangerous monsters. Their families earned both honor and power through their efforts. And now, you, the next generation, are tasked with carrying on their legacy."
Adlet's thoughts drifted as Barno continued his lecture, the weight of the kingdom's history settling over him. The name "Dryad" lingered in his mind, echoing in his thoughts like a distant bell. Daven's family. He had always known Daven was arrogant, but now that he understood the legacy behind that name, a new clarity emerged. The Dryad family wasn't just a noble house—it was a symbol of power, of history, of something that demanded respect.
Adlet clenched his fists under the table, the tension in his jaw tightening. Respect. The word gnawed at him. He had been taught to respect strength, but Daven's version of respect felt hollow, built on a foundation of privilege and entitlement. His bloodline, his family name, shouldn't be enough to justify his behavior.
But there was a lesson in this, a deeper realization: no amount of bloodline or title could replace true strength. And if Daven's arrogance was a reminder of anything, it was that Adlet had something to prove—not to others, but to himself.
One day, he thought, I'll show him. Adlet would prove that strength wasn't measured by the name you carried, but by what you could accomplish with your own hands.
Months passed. Adlet and Florian trained together, mastering physical techniques and Aura manipulation. By the time Adlet turned 14, the two had become an inseparable team, complementing each other's strengths.
Adlet's control over his Dark Beetle Aura expanded. His reach grew, his strikes became sharper, and his grip, more precise. Every day, it felt like he was inching closer to the Protector he envisioned himself to be.
Florian, too, made impressive strides. His ability to manifest his Aura had evolved into something fluid, something instinctual. The wolf-like tails he could summon now seemed almost alive, shifting and moving with a grace that matched his unpredictable fighting style. What had started as a tentative partnership had grown into a mutual respect. They were no longer just two students training in the same space; they had become each other's greatest assets.
But there was always something lurking at the back of Adlet's mind. The upcoming mission, the one he had been waiting for, still felt distant. There was the Academy's evaluation, of course, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just about the tests. The mission, the first one, would mark the beginning of his true journey as a Protector. The thought of facing real danger, real Apexes, left his pulse quickening with excitement.
As the days blurred by, Adlet noticed that not everything at the Academy was as straightforward as it appeared. Florian had been right about one thing—the Academy's controlled environment, isolated from the world, was pushing them all into a corner. But it wasn't just about training. There was something else. It was the way the students interacted, the subtle alliances, the quiet whispers that passed between them. Adlet felt like a piece of the puzzle, but not yet part of the picture.
The day of the Academy's monthly evaluation arrived.
Adlet stood in line with the other candidates, his heart racing as he watched Daven walk up to the examiner, the arrogance practically radiating off him. Daven's Aura flared, gray and solid, as if it was as much a part of his being as his noble title. Upper Rank 1, the examiner confirmed. No surprise there. Daven's family name carried enough weight to clear even the highest of hurdles, but for Adlet, this wasn't about titles. It was about proving himself.
Florian went next. His Aura shimmered with a rich orange hue, like fire itself was wrapped around him. Upper Rank 1, the examiner said, and Florian smiled at Adlet, a silent acknowledgment that their training had paid off.
Adlet's turn came, and he stepped forward without hesitation. His hands flared with the familiar dark energy of his Dark Beetle Aura, swirling around him like an invisible shield. When the examiner nodded and said, "Received. End of tests," a quiet satisfaction surged through him. Upper Rank 1. He had made it. The path ahead was opening.
Eight students qualified that month. As Adlet stood alongside Florian, the significance of the moment hit him. They were no longer just apprentices. They were Protectors, ready to step into the world and face the dangers that awaited them.
After the evaluation, Adlet and Florian made their way to Barno's office. They had received the results, and now they awaited their assignments.
Barno sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he glanced at the two boys.
"You absorbed a Rank 1 beetle in the Dark Woods, correct?" he asked, his voice deep and steady.
Adlet nodded.
"Now that your Aura is Upper Rank 1, you've nearly reached your full potential," Barno said, his voice steady.
Adlet's chest tightened. He had worked so hard to get here, and part of him was proud—proud of how far he'd come in such a short time. But another part of him, a deeper part, couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Full potential? Was this really it? Had he hit a ceiling this early?
He glanced up at Barno, but the man's expression was unreadable.
It felt like a victory—and a trap.
Barno continued. "Two options: settle here as an apprentice Protector in a region of your choice, or aim to evolve further. To do that, there's only one place I know with a suitable species for your beetle: the Dryad Forest."
At the mention of the Dryad Forest, Adlet's stomach tightened. Daven's name flashed in his mind again, uninvited. But he pushed it down. This wasn't about Daven. This was about his growth, his future.
"When can I leave?" Adlet asked, trying to mask the unease in his voice.
Barno didn't seem to notice Adlet's hesitation. "Starting tomorrow, you will begin your journey to meet your team's leader."
"Our team's leader?" Adlet asked, brow furrowing.
"Yes. As apprentice Protectors, you'll be assigned to a Master Protector who will lead your group during missions. But first, someone from the Academy will guide you to meet your true leader, a Master Protector, who will oversee your training and missions moving forward. You'll travel with Daven and Florian, and the Academy guide will ensure you get there safely."
Adlet's heart sank a little at the mention of Daven's name, but he quickly refocused. This was his chance—his first real step into the life of a Protector.
"If there are no further questions, that concludes today's session. We'll meet again for the departure ceremony," Barno said, standing and signaling that the meeting was over.
The next morning, Adlet packed his few belongings. He wasn't sure how long they would be gone, but it didn't matter. Whatever awaited him, he was ready. He had no illusions—this mission would be dangerous. But for the first time, the prospect of danger didn't make him anxious. It made him feel alive.
At the ceremony, Barno addressed the assembled group.
"You've reached the level necessary to embark on your first mission. As apprentices, you'll patrol the borders of the dangerous zones, observing Apexes' activity. A confirmed Protector will lead your team."
Adlet's heart raced. This was it—the beginning of everything. The real journey had started.
Barno handed them each a stone badge, each etched with the Protector emblem: three swirling branches within a circle.
"You are now officially apprentice Protectors. Good luck," he said.
With that, Adlet, Florian, and Daven bowed slightly before stepping through the Academy's gates. The world beyond was vast, dangerous, and full of promise. As the gates closed behind them, Adlet felt the weight of destiny settle on his shoulders. This was only the beginning.