A few uneventful days slipped by, mostly indistinguishable from one another, until at last, the marked dates arrived. The ones Yerin had spoken of in her message. Their squad’s first official training session was finally at hand.
In the meantime, Ruvian had managed to gather a modest handful of Plot Points—nothing awe-inspiring, though not for lack of discipline. Simply put, the world hadn’t offered much of interest lately.
[Plot Points: 4700]
Morning lectures came and went with the usual flavorless repetition. Sometimes tolerable, often tedious, their value swung unpredictably with the temperament of whoever stood at the podium that day.
The rest of his time had been split between maintaining his exercise regimen, refining his personal casting techniques, and reading through the mountain of material he still hadn’t fully digested. Once the final bell rang and the classroom emptied into yet another forgettable day, Ruvian slipped out conveniently.
In one hand, he carried the transmission scroll—its letters glowed, acting as a guide toward their destination. The training hall Yerin had secured for their squad wasn’t part of the standard scholar facilities. It was further in, tucked past the outer wing of the eastern complex.
When he stepped through the reinforced double doors, the scent of polished stone and tempered mana struck him first. The hall was vast with a vaulted ceiling stretching high overhead, lined with concentric rings of silvery conduits that traced elegant arcs across the surface.
Pillars flanked the perimeter. At the side stood the array console. An advanced system capable of conjuring fully-simulated combat constructs, from elemental hazards to bestial opponents drawn from the Academy’s library of magical data.
It was a training ground tailored for the serious.
Ruvian’s squad were already there, waiting.
Yerin stood nearest the control pillar, her posture composed and steady. Her longsword had a subtle curvature, balanced perfectly between speed and control, and rested across her back. Arlok leaned slightly on his poleaxe, the massive weapon looking almost ornamental in his grip. His stance was loose, casual even, but his eyes tracked Ruvian’s entrance with measured interest.
Shima stood to the side, adjusting the strap of her gloves. Her falchion, wide-bladed and slightly chipped at the edge, hung low at her waist. Unlike the others, her stance wasn’t fixed. Foot to foot, she was already halfway into motion. And Horren remained near the archway quietly, fingers playing lightly on the curve of his bow. His expression was restless, as usual, but his eyes flicked briefly toward Ruvian.
Ruvian stepped forward, sliding the scroll back into his coat as the doors sealed shut behind him.
The group naturally gravitated toward Yerin, who stood near the control array with her usual composed focus. Without needing to raise her voice, she addressed them all with her authority as the leader of the squad. “We’ve got the hall until midnight,” she said, fingers already gliding across the etched control of the console.
Mana flickered in response to her touch, feeding into the core of the array. “So we’ll be training until then. Make the time count.”
Horren shifted slightly, his restlessness barely concealed. “I think we should start with something straightforward, like just one or two Lesser Rank beasts, just to test our footing.”
Arlok snorted. “What’s the matter, Horren? You afraid a little simulated dog might bite your ankles?”
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At the same time, he turned to Ruvian with a grin. “Also, you at least know the class range of Voidspawn, right? Or do they not bother teaching that to Class E?”
“They covered everything in theory. But let’s just say that most of the instructors couldn’t tell a Wretched-Rank from a weather anomaly. Their notes were often half-written, recycled from two decades ago, and occasionally contradicted themselves halfway through the page. Inspiring education, I would say.... But, at least, there was an interesting instructor who actually knows what he was talking about."
Arlok chuckled, thumping the end of his weapon against the floor. “Hahh!! They probably don’t want to scare you off with the juicy stuff.”
Of course, what he didn’t say was that he’d never needed their notes in the first place. He had once combed through the classification system himself. He had rewritten, restructuring, and refining it long before arriving in this world.
Yerin, unaware of the extent of his knowledge and ever the responsible one, took it upon herself to step in. Her fingers stilled above the array as she turned slightly, ready to explain. “Then let me walk you through it properly, in case your education has holes… and in Arlok’s case, a few caverns.”
She stepped away from the array, just enough to command their attention. “Voidspawn are classified across six ranks. The first is Lesser-Rank—mindless, usually driven by base instincts. These are the ones used in early training, and while common, they shouldn’t be underestimated. Their simplicity can make them deceptively dangerous in groups.”
“They're just a bunch of stupid monkeys,” Arlok muttered.
Yerin ignored him. “Next is Wretched-Rank. These are less common, and unlike Lesser beasts, some of them display limited intelligence. More importantly, each tends to possess a unique ability. Maybe acid breath, spitting flamethrowers or invisible.”
“I’ve read reports that some of those things fake death or mimicking their environment,” Horren said.
“Yes, some actually do,” Yerin nodded before moving to the next rank.
“Above that is Malice-Rank. Rare and significantly more dangerous. They’re smarter, sometimes even tactical. And they don’t stop at one unique ability; they have more in their arsenal. And harder to kill.”
Shima, who had been silent until now, shifted slightly. Her voice was calm, quiet, and low.
“If you fight one, expect yourself to die. That’s how dangerous they are.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” Arlok said while swinging his poleaxe.
Yerin nodded. “Next is the Reaper-Rank. Super rare and fully intelligent. They’re capable of unnatural powers, often beyond comprehension. They operate like generals. Few elite adventurers encounter one and walk away without losing a limb.”
“And then there’s Exile-Rank. These are no longer part of the standard curriculum. They’re capable of commanding lesser beasts, acting as singular forces of destruction. They’re usually only found in Forbidden Regions and only mentioned in restricted texts. The kind of entity that entire battalions are deployed to avoid. Of course, the dreadful ones are the last rank.”
“Eh? Wait, wait,” Arlok said, holding up a hand.
“Are you saying there’s a rank above that? I thought Exile-Rank was already the final boss tier.”
“No,” Ruvian answered this time. His voice had turned cool and distant. “Above them is the Calamity-Rank.”
“Oh, you knew?” Yerin added.
“Yes. The Calamity-Rank. They don’t appear in textbooks, only in oral tales passed down by old folks. True, the tales are not that accurate… because their documentation tends to end where before they begin.”
Horren let out a slow breath. “So? Like legends?”
“Not legends,” Shima said simply. “They're just warnings, I believe.”
Arlok let out a short laugh. “Damn. Could’ve just said bedtime stories and left it at that.” He rolled his shoulder, poleaxe shifting on his back. “So, basically, they’re like the kind of monsters that crawl out of the world when the gods look the other way.”
“They’re the ones you should look away from,” Ruvian said flatly with a smirk. “If you’re lucky.”
Horren clicked his tongue. “I’ve heard one of the older hunters talking about a beast that made a whole forest vanish. Said the trees withered overnight, rivers dried, and people started hearing voices that weren’t theirs.” He looked toward Yerin. “That kind of thing?”
Yerin didn’t answer, but she tilted her head, gaze distant for a moment as though weighing truths she couldn’t fully confirm.
Then, she shook her head. “Who knows, it could be. And it could not be.”
A second passed between them.
The array console gave a soft tone; the calibration was finally complete. The hall glowed in full around them. Yerin looked around, her gaze steady. “Anyway, the settings are done. We’ll be starting at the bottom,” she said, stepping back toward the center.
“Then, we slowly raise the level.”
“We're not at the level where we can go toe-to-toe with a Wretched-Rank. Let alone all five of us. We need to work on our understanding first.”
PP= 4700
ME= 325