Imperial Palace Throne Room – Morning.
The King sat still on his massive golden throne. Tall pillars towered around him. Red banners draped the walls like blood. The huge hall felt heavy, silent.
A dark shadow swirled suddenly before the throne.
A cloaked man stepped from it, his face was hidden. He dropped to one knee, fast and held up a sealed letter in hands.
The King snatched the letter and broke the wax seal. He read the words, eyes scanning quick.
___________________________
We discovered a dead body inside the Training Centre. There were strange patterns on the dead body.
It may be my guess, but I think the Demon Empire summoning (Demon Heroes) was successful before us.
Commander Darius Ironfist
__________________________
The his eyes narrowed to slits and rage boiling slow inside him.
His fingers gripped tight—crunch. Flames leaped from his palm, hot and wild. The paper turned to black ash, drifting down.
His face turned dark and annoyed.
"So… the Demon Empire moved first," the King muttered.
He lifted his hand.
"Bring Saintess Elowen to me."
A guard bowed and hurried away.
Moments Later
After some time, the large doors of hall are opened.
Saintess Elowen entered inside the hall.
Her face was calm, eyes were sharp. She was wearing white robe there is symbols of holy church on back of robe. Holy vibes coming from her.
She bowed respectfully in front of King.
"Your Majesty."
The King looked at her with serious face.
"The Demon Empire also successfully summoned heroes," he said in cold voice.
Elowen slowly raised her head.
Her eyes widened slightly after hearing this news.
"So it has begun…" she whispered, her voice was soft but heavy with dread.
The King leaned forward, the throne groaning.
Urgency burned in his eyes."Go to the training base," he commanded her in an iron-hard tone. "Push the Heroes. Finish training fast as soon as possible. No delays."
Elowen nodded quickly, stealing her spine."Yes, Your Majesty," she said steady.
His eyes turned blade-sharp, piercing.
"And hunt the Demon spy," he added low, deadly. "Their Hero hides among our summoned ones."
Her fists clenched tight and knuckles white. Anger flared hot in her heart.
"I'll find them," she vowed, voice firm as stone. "I swear on the Goddess name."
The King waved his hand.
"You may leave."
Saintess Elowen bowed once more and turned to leave the hall.
As she walked away, her face became serious.
A demon hero among the summoned students…
This will not be easy.
The palace fell silent again.
But a storm was quietly growing.
Sword Field Section – Morning.
The sun shines over the Training Centre.
Students (heroes) are taking sword class.
In front of them stood Instructor Knight Borin.
He was tall, eyes were sharp and have two scars on face.
He was wearing heavy silver armor and arms were crossed tightly over his chest.
His sharp eyes looked across all the heroes like a hawk.
His loud voice cut through the air.
"Listen up!" Borin shouted.
"Before training, we warm up!"
"First exercise — push-ups for forty-five minutes!"
"Start!"
Everyone quickly dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups.
The field soon filled with heavy breathing and groans.
Their sweat dripped onto the ground.
James was doing pushups easily and fast compared to other students.
"Heh… this is easy," James said proudly.
He looked around and laughed when he saw others struggling.
"Come on! Is this all you got?" he mocked.
Some students glared at him but had no energy to argue.
Tom was also doing push-ups calmly.
His breathing was slow and controlled.
His movements were clean and balanced.
He was not as fast as James, but he looked much more relaxed.
Instructor Borin walked between the students, boots thudding against the ground.
"Keep your back straight!"
"Don't slow down!"
"If you stop, you start again!"
After a long time, Instructor Borin raised his hand.
"Stop!" he shouted.
Everyone dropped to the ground or sat where they were.
Some students lay flat on their backs, breathing hard.
"Haa… haa…"
"My arms are dead…"
Sweat covered their faces and uniforms.
James stood up quickly and stretched his arms.
This was nothing back in the previous world. I have done this normally. And this is the reason why I dominate school. He thought proudly.
A few students looked at him with an angry face.
Tom slowly stood up and he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
His breathing was steady.
Borin walked in front of them.
"Warm-up isn't finished yet," he said firmly.
Borin pointed toward the track around the field.
"Running. Ten rounds."
"WHAT?!" many voices shouted together.
"No talking," Borin said coldly.
"Start running. Now!"
Students started running around in a large field.
Dust rises under their shoes when they are running.
Some of them ran fast.
Some of them ran slowly and were already tired from pushups.
"My legs are shaking…"
"I think I will faint…"
Ray ran in front of them and he look at back and shout it
"Too slow! Like this we are not able to get revenge for our classmates," he said in a loud voice.
"So, please put in more effort."
He sped up even more.
Tom ran behind him at a steady pace.
His breathing was controlled.
Endurance is important, he thought calmly.
Borin looked at them.
"You have thirty minutes to rest," he said.
"Drink water. Stretch your body."
Students rushed toward the water barrels, drinking water.
Some sit under the shades of trees and others lay on the ground.
Maxwell drank water and sighed.
"This training is crazy."
Jack laughed weakly and said.
"Yeah, it reminded me of basketball training in school…" he stopped before completing the sentence.
Maxwell looks at him and says in a soft voice, "you remembering your basketball team and parents."
Tom sits alone in a corner under a tree and closes his eyes.
This training is nothing compared to what's coming, he thought.
James sat nearby, cracking his knuckles.
"I hope sword training is fun," he said with excitement.
"Listen up! Stance first! Feet wide apart—like this." He planted his boots firm, knees bent. "Weight on balls of feet. Ready to move fast. Grip sword tight but not white-knuckled—control the swing."
Jack held the wooden sword steady in his hand muscles tense. Sweat beaded on his forehead already. Basic stance: sword point forward, guard up to block hits.
Maxwell sighed deep but fixed his grip—hands one over the other on hilt—and lifted again.
Nearby, James swung his sword hard—whoosh!—wood cracking air. Show-off power but sloppy form.
Their fists clenched ready to punch anytime. The air got thick between them and anger ready to explode.
Instructor Borin bellowed loudly, stepping between. "Enough chatter! Pair up—spar now!"
Students shuffled quickly into pairs. Jack faced a skinny kid. They bowed short to show respect before start daul.
"Begin!" Borin roared.
Wood swords crashed. Tak! Tak!
Jack danced light—feet sliding smooth in wide stance, sword whipping precise. Block high, strike low. Clack! The opponent's sword flew from numb hands.
The knight nodded sharp, impressed. "Solid control, Jack. Perfect balance—keep that footwork."
Maxwell flailed wild nearby, sword wobbling. His partner pressed hard—slash, thrust.
"Hey! Slow down!" Maxwell yelped, barely blocking, sweat flying.
Maxwell's foot caught dirt. He tripped hard—thud!—sword flying. Face red, dust everywhere.
Laughter erupted from the group. Pointing fingers, chuckles loud.
"Get up you, clown!" James jeered, smirking.
Maxwell sit up, scratched his head sheepish. "Man... magic's more easier than swords to me."
At the field's edge, Tom trained solo. Away from the noise.
His wooden sword sliced air—sharp, deadly arcs. Too perfect: fluid spins, instant blocks, strikes like venom. Stance flawless, every move lethal.
A cold chill hung around him, prickling skin.
Instructor Borin watched from afar, throat tight. He swallowed hard, voice a whisper. "That kid... his killing vibe scares me deeply."