An oppressive atmosphere reigned in the meeting hall of the local headquarters building. The people gathered there were the experts that came all the way from the neighboring large cities, and every one of them had a grim expression.
As they sat at a large round table, patiently awaiting the arrival of the rest of their group, a messenger suddenly entered the hall.
"Speak," one of them said without opening his eyes. He was dressed in a simple monastic robe, and not a single hair or wrinkle was visible on his bald, shiny head.
"Young noble Brighthawk and his squad have arrived and are waiting outside for further instructions." The messenger kept his head lowered as he spoke.
"Ask him to come in; the rest can wait outside," the monk said, finally opening his white, cloudy eyes; it turned out he was blind.
"Yes, milord!"
***
"Who is this 'young noble'? His name sounds familiar," asked a bronze-skinned, middle-aged man with a deep, ugly scar that ran through his entire face. He had two giant battle-axes on his broad, muscular back. "Wasn't that captain also called Brighthawk? We've rarely met each other, but I heard that he was one hell of a daredevil."
"That was over four decades ago," the monk sighed, then added, "He has long since changed. But in the end, time spares no one."
The scarred man just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "So who..." He was about to repeat his question but got interrupted by the blind monk.
"A disciple of mine. Don't make things difficult for him; he has suffered enough," he said while looking at the burly man. Even though he was blind, he could 'see' much farther and clearer than any of the experts present.
"Hmph, it's better for young folks to learn it the hard way. This has always been the rule and will always be."
He closed his eyes, seemingly falling asleep.
***
"Elders, I'll be back soon," Kirk said and followed the messenger who led him inside the building. They didn't exchange any words as they quickly walked through the corridors.
Shortly after, they arrived at the large round table where sat a total of eight men and one woman; most of the seats were still empty. The blind monk smiled as soon as he saw Kirk but the others stared at him in shock.
"Elders." Kirk bowed politely.
"Hezekiah," the monk was the first to speak, clearly amused, "what's with your face?"
"To hell with your jokes! You clearly knew everything beforehand."
The latter glared at him menacingly.
"Weren't you explaining a while ago that young folks have to learn it the hard way? Ahhahahha! I haven't laughed so hard in centuries!"
The monk started laughing like crazy, once more shocking everyone present.
The messenger was the most shocked of them all. He would never have thought that the esteemed headmaster of the Regal Phoenix Academy would conduct himself so... childishly. Everyone at the table exchanged weird glances while Kirk scratched the back of his head, a bit embarrassed.
"A brat in his twenties who has already formed the Profound Core!" Another expert who sat at the table exclaimed in amazement after he came back to his senses.
This same thought crossed everyone's mind. Most people of Kirk's age were still working hard to open the chakra points, while the more talented had already begun to accumulate elemental energy within their Etheric Bodies, gradually learning how to control the new-found power without harming themselves.
"Such astonishing talent," remarked a young-looking enchantress. She had velvet purple hair and violet phoenix eyes that were a perfect fit together.
"Profound Core?" gasped the messenger as he staggered back a few steps, looking at Kirk as if the latter was a monster.
"It's time for you to leave," the purple-haired woman shifted her gaze to the messenger, who then hurriedly left the meeting hall without another word.
"Halifax, why didn't you say it earlier? You made us look like fools," she pouted while staring at the bald monk.
"I made my breakthrough earlier this day, so my master couldn't have known." Kirk hastily explained and bowed in the woman's direction.
"You are underestimating him far too much." The woman smiled at Kirk.
Kirk glanced at the blind monk, his master, only to notice that the latter was also smiling at him. Although his white eyes made the smile look a bit creepy, overall, he looked like a friendly grandpa. Kirk stood there, thinking about the implications of what he just heard.
"Young man, how old are you this year?" asked a white-haired old man who was the only one in the room describable with the words 'ordinary' and 'unremarkable'. Everyone would pass by without sparing him a second glance. Kirk only noticed him the moment he spoke.
"So there were ten people sitting at the table all this time?" Kirk found the fact quite shocking. In battle, ignorance of your enemy's presence was akin to a death sentence!
"I'm about to turn 21," he replied politely.
"We cannot let him join the expedition!" someone immediately intervened, "Just think about it; in a decade, he will probably have a chance of joining the Imperial Court. Such a young representative will elevate our city's status by a great margin! If he dies, there will be no one else to blame but us for sending him to his premature death! We have to get our priorities straight before it's too late."
"What kind of bullshit is that, Peregrine?" Hezekiah gave the man a ridiculing look and continued, "Imperial Court? Fuck them! Those turtles deserve a good beating for abusing their power and running from their responsibilities! Besides, with his current strength, I think we all agree that he has the right to decide for himself."
"Gentlemen," Halifax backed his voice up with elemental energy to get their attention, "Everyone here has their own opinions, I understand that. But I think you forgot something: he is my disciple, not yours."
"Old man, tell me," Peregrine, the man whose face was hidden under a black hood, suddenly asked, "What will you tell the Praetor after he hears the news of a young prodigy dying on a stupid mission?"
"The truth, of course. Besides, who said that he is going to die?"
"Hmph! He made his breakthrough a few hours ago. Do you think he can control his power? He will explode the moment he loses control over his energy."
Kirk closely listened to their discussion, feeling quite nervous. If they decided to ban him from entering the Forbidden Territory, what could he do? Despite his increased strength, he was still nothing but a child in front of the experts who have gathered here today. As for exploding due to lack of control? Kirk didn't have such problems; his powerful soul has never failed him before.
"I have a suggestion." Hezekiah slowly stood up from his seat, drawing attention from everyone present.
"I will gauge the boy's strength so that the esteemed sir over there can finally shut up. What do you say? Any objections?" he said, not paying attention to Peregrine, who was trembling from anger under his hood.
"You old coon..." said the latter, gritting his teeth.
"No objections."
"I have none as well."
Everyone except for Peregrine soon agreed to his proposal.
"Great! Young man, follow me to the sparring arena. Let's hope it won't collapse... too soon, ahhaha!"
Hezekiah patted Kirk on the shoulder, and without waiting for anyone, walked out of the meeting hall.
***
A swarm of dark clouds was closing in on the military settlement. The people noticed it long ago and already made all the necessary preparations. No one wanted to get their clothes and equipment wet and dirty before they even hit the road.
Aside from the army and the experts who had spatial rings, there were also civilians— mercenaries and merchants—who couldn't afford such luxury. They made up the majority of the population. They used this small town as a temporary resting place where they could sell their goods, take on assignments, or simply catch their breath before embarking on another journey. All in all, this place could be called a small city with its own developed infrastructure.
The town was divided into five rough sections, each surrounded by a wall, with some of them overlapping, creating a spiral image that left a large open area at its center. The inner sector was mainly dedicated to the army's training grounds and some of the most important buildings, such as the headquarters.
Despite the rain, the soldiers were in no hurry to finish their training. Some of them wielded swords, while others preferred to use bare fists and powerful fighting techniques. Their attacks didn't look flashy and were filled with thick killing intent.
Soon, one of them noticed a group of people heading toward the central sparring platform. The one leading them was a muscular tall man with a scar on his face and two battle-axes on his broad, wide back.
Behind him followed a young man who was two full heads shorter. His black hair was tied up in a ponytail with a white ribbon. Dressed in a white robe, he carried a great black sword on his back. They were followed by people in groups of two, three, and five: twelve in total.
"Hey, look!" the soldier called out to his friend. "Do you know who is the man leading them?"
"Are you kidding? Don't forget to take your memory pills next time! He is our Commander-in-Chief!" replied his friend hastily.
The soldier gulped and asked, this time in a hushed voice, "What about the rest?"
"They should be the experts from the Fifth Southgate City who arrived earlier this day."
Others also started to notice the unusual activity. Some were confused, others shocked, but a good portion of them was waiting in anticipation for what would happen next.
***
Hezekiah's gaze traveled across the training grounds and the thousands of soldiers, finally landing on Kirk. "Already feeling nervous?"
He grinned at him. The scar distorted his grin, making his face even more difficult to look at without getting cold feet.
"Not at all," Kirk replied, looking straight into his eyes.
"Heh. Your courage is commendable but it's still nothing in front of the real strength."
He walked up to the edge of the fighting platform. He touched it with his hand and frowned.
"It feels more like cotton than stone. This won't do."
"Let me help." Halifax gently touched the ground with his staff, and it soon began to transform. The stone turned from white to light-grey, then dark grey, and finally black.
Hezekiah once again tested its toughness and said reluctantly, "It can barely pass. But, as they say, don't look a gift horse in the mouth."
The monk smiled wryly, then turned around and said to the crowd that had already gathered around them and numbered in thousands, "Those who haven't formed their Etheric Bodies, please distance yourself from the platform."
In the end, only a few dozen of them moved further away.
"Ultimately, the choice is yours," the monk said and turned back, focusing on the upcoming battle between Hezekiah and Kirk.
"Kid, come on stage and entertain the public!" Hezekiah took off his shirt and jumped onto the platform, crossing a few hundred meters in an instant, which sent waves of shocked cries through the crowd.