It had been a week. A whole week of dead silence from my so-called godly "System." Not a whisper, not a flicker, not even a lousy ping to say, "Hey, still here!" I couldn't access a thing—no stats, no character window, no helpful tooltips. Just… radio silence.
At first, it was like someone had ripped out a vital organ. But after a few days, I started to adjust. It was weirdly freeing if you ignored the nagging feeling of being blindfolded before a sword fight. I'd grown stronger, more independent, and maybe I didn't need the system like I used to.
But still… it was unsettling, like someone had unplugged the universe's WiFi without asking.
Life at Arcadia Academy, though? That marched on at its usual breakneck pace. My friends were knee-deep in a fresh frenzy—Spellblade Order invitations.
These weren't your average student clubs. No, they were practically factions with real-world influence, the sort of groups that didn't just prepare you for the academy but opened doors to whole new worlds after graduation. Think magicians-turned-mentors, long-time graduates still calling the shots, and, oh yes, legendary reputations.
For top students like Dorian, Leon, Claire, and Selene, these orders were practically begging them to sign on. Dorian alone had thirty-plus invitations—including all of the top five. Honestly, the guy could open a dedicated mailroom.
There were over a hundred of these orders across Arcadia, each one a kingdom in its own right. Red Phoenix, Arcane Talons, White Tiger, The Exodus, and Eclipse Vanguard—they were the elite, dripping with talent and ambition, with members who'd probably made history long before I even set foot in this academy.
Being invited by one of them was like winning the lottery; it came with power, protection, and prestige. You joined one of these, and suddenly, your odds of survival improved drastically.
Naturally, my friends were buzzing with debate over which orders they'd go for, each considering where they'd gain the most advantage. Dorian, of course, had his eye on White Dragon, the academy's reigning powerhouse. It fit his trajectory in the original story like a glove.
I nodded along as he rattled off his reasons, but honestly, my mind drifted. Because while Dorian could stroll into any order he pleased, for most of us, getting in wasn't that easy.
No, joining an order was serious business. For every "golden child" with thirty invitations, there were ten students fighting for a single spot, facing rejection after rejection. Apply all you want; the orders could—and would—turn you down if they didn't think you measured up.
And if you somehow reached your second year without a place? You got one last shot. You could either join an order or, if you were feeling ambitious, create one. The catch? You'd need at least ten people willing to back you. If you couldn't manage that, well, good luck. You were out.
No order, no place, no safety net.
Orders would be our lifeline over the next few years. This wasn't just about status or popularity; the academy actually used orders as the first line of defense. Some would even be sent to the front lines in real-world skirmishes when Arcadia was low on soldiers.
And here's the twist: the orders weren't required to protect you in the heat of battle. If things went south, they'd defend their own, but… you were only a priority if you had a name. If you were just another body in the crowd? Tough luck.
The pressure was on.
Dorian's voice pulled me back to the present with all the subtlety of a cannon blast. "Lucius!" he called, loud enough to make my train of thought derail spectacularly. "You good over there?"
I blinked, finally focusing on the group again. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Just… thinking."
He chuckled, raising an eyebrow with that classic "I don't believe you for a second" look. "Right, 'thinking.' So, back to the actual question here—are you even leaning towards any of the orders yet? You're one of the top students; come on, you've got options." He nudged me like I was supposed to have this all figured out already.
I scratched the back of my head, stalling. "Oh, you know... still figuring it out," I said, forcing a casual shrug. "A guy's gotta weigh his options. Don't want to rush into anything life-altering, right?"
Claire shot me a look that could only be described as pure confidence. "See?" she said, smiling at Dorian. "Told you he just needs a bit more time." She turned back to me, her expression softening in that unnervingly supportive way. "And honestly, you've got two months. The right choice will come to you," she added with a reassuring smile, which, for some reason, made the decision feel even weightier.
"Maybe it'll just hit me like a bolt of inspiration," I said, trying to brush it off with a grin. "Or, you know, the need for survival. Whichever comes first."
Selene, who'd been quiet for most of this, finally chimed in, her eyes glinting with her usual sharpness. "Just don't leave it too late, Lucius," she said in a low voice. "The orders are already watching us, and they'll be judging every move." There was a hint of warning in her tone that made me stand up a little straighter. With her, even the simplest words sounded like they'd been laced with just a bit of ice magic.
The conversation shifted as the others started talking strategy, comparing the perks of different orders, and debating which mentors they hoped to work with. Dorian, of course, was still dead set on White Dragon. "They've got the best combat records, and their resources? Insane," he was saying, clearly picturing himself as the crown jewel of the order's roster.
I gave him an absent nod, though my mind was already wandering again. I had two months to figure out where I belonged in this complicated power chessboard of orders and rankings, all while trying not to get annihilated in the upcoming semester exam. But it wasn't just the usual exams coming up. I knew that Episode 3, the next major incident from the original story, was creeping closer. And if I remembered it right, it would make the last one look like a friendly training session. Whatever they had in store for us, survival was going to be anything but guaranteed.
Dorian, naturally, would survive just fine—he was the protagonist, the "chosen one" with plot armor thick as dragon scales. But me? I wasn't even sure I had a backup plan, let alone a guarantee.
The academy bell rang, jolting me back to reality for the second time that day. Combat class was next, which meant a one-way ticket to a brutal session with our favorite drill sergeant, Instructor Isaac Mavis. If "grueling" was an art form, Isaac had mastered it.
As we packed up, Leon clapped a hand on my shoulder, his usual grin in place. "Cheer up, Lucius! Worst case, you've got us to bail you out of trouble." He gave me a hearty pat, as if he could singlehandedly boost my survival odds with sheer optimism.
"Yeah," I said, grinning. "Just what I need—my own personal rescue squad."
Dorian snorted, adjusting his gear. "With Lucius's luck? He'll be the one rescuing us." He threw a smirk my way, like he half-expected me to pull some last-minute save.
"I'm all for heroics," I replied with a shrug, "as long as it doesn't involve sprinting headfirst into fire."
Claire rolled her eyes. "Oh please, you love the drama, Lucius. Don't even try to act like you don't."
I held up my hands in mock surrender. "Caught me there. I'm all about the flair, but hey, maybe this time, I'll stick to a strategic approach. We're not exactly talking game levels here."
With a few more laughs and some good-natured jabs, we finally broke off, each heading to our lockers to prep for Isaac's class. As I made my way down the hall, my thoughts lingered on the orders, the exams, and that shadow of an impending disaster.
The training field buzzed with energy as students clashed, spells crackled in the air, and bursts of elemental power lit up the space like a magic-fueled fireworks display. Isaac stood at the edge of the field, his arms crossed and his gaze sharp as a hawk. Even without saying a word, his mere presence made everyone push a little harder, like we could actually feel his judgment hovering over us.
"Listen up!" His voice sliced through the noise like a sword through butter. "Today, we're adding a new twist. You'll be paired up and tethered by a spell cast by the arena itself. This link will force you to feel each other's movements, fatigue, and yes, even pain. You're not just fighting as a team—you're surviving as one."
The academy's combat arena wasn't exactly ordinary. Thanks to some powerful enchantments, it could transform into different terrains and project hyper-realistic simulations, turning training into something that felt a lot closer to a life-or-death struggle. The students around me muttered nervously, well aware that fighting while linked to someone else's strengths—and weaknesses—was a challenge no one was eager to test.
Isaac's gaze landed on me with that "I expect miracles" look. "Lucius! You're with Dorian. Show me you're more than a fancy sword-swinger."
Dorian grinned, clearly unfazed. "Ready to feel the sheer power of my magic?" he said, clapping me on the shoulder with way too much enthusiasm.
I rolled my eyes. "Let's just hope we don't end up incinerating each other."
The arena's enchantments kicked in with a tug deep in my core, linking me to Dorian. We took cautious steps, adjusting to the tether's strange pull. Isaac watched us like a hawk, then began the countdown.
"Three minutes. Focus, or get flattened."
Our surroundings shimmered and morphed into a dense forest. Towering trees cast deep shadows across the uneven ground, and a low fog clung to the air. Somewhere in the darkness, I caught the low growl of something big lurking nearby. The arena's enchantments were impressively realistic—the air even smelled damp and earthy.
A creature leaped out from behind a tree, all claws and teeth. Dorian reacted instantly, hurling a burst of fire that lit up the forest. I dashed forward, summoning my mana sword—the dark energy wrapping around my blade, crackling and pulsing. As I slashed through the creature, the tether jerked, throwing me slightly off balance.
"Stay in sync!" Dorian yelled, fending off another creature with a gust of wind. "I can't keep babysitting you if you're stumbling over the tether!"
Gritting my teeth, I adjusted my movements, trying to match his rhythm. Dorian was a whirlwind, alternating between fire, water, and lightning as if he were simply breathing. The tether meant that every spell he cast drained both of us, and his fatigue was hitting me hard. Each labored breath, each bit of energy he burned, weighed me down too.
"Brace yourself!" he called, crackling energy gathering around him. With a shout, he unleashed a torrent of lightning that arced through the trees, illuminating the forest in blinding bursts of blue and white. The creatures recoiled, but they kept coming, their growls blending with the snapping of twigs and rustling leaves.
I dodged another swipe from one beast, sidestepping to counter with a powerful slash. The mana sword cut clean through, and as the creature dissipated, I adjusted to avoid pulling Dorian off balance. He compensated, sending a burst of water into the pack advancing on us, drenching them.
Just as I was gathering dark mana for an Elemental Shot, a larger beast charged at us from the shadows. I fired, the energy striking it square in the chest, leaving it staggered just long enough for Dorian to follow up with a wall of fire.
Before we could catch our breath, the forest dimmed, and an enormous creature emerged from the shadows—a clear signal that this was the final test. Isaac's voice echoed through the trees. "This is survival training! If you can't work together, you're done for."
The beast lowered its head and charged, its massive form trampling everything in its path. Dorian's face broke into a half-tired, half-excited grin. "Let's go big. Follow my lead."
I took a steadying breath as the tether pulsed between us, syncing my movements with his. He began gathering energy, his magic flaring brighter as he pulled from his elemental well. Fire, water, wind, and lightning all converged, swirling into a brilliant white energy—the divine element, his ace. I tightened my grip on my mana-wrapped blade, ready to strike.
"Now!" he shouted, releasing his spell just as I lunged. My blade met his spell at the creature's core, the combined force slamming into it in a massive explosion. The flash of light was blinding, and the shockwave sent me skidding backward, nearly throwing me off balance. I managed to steady myself, breathing hard, as the creature dissipated into smoke.
The forest faded, and the arena returned to its normal, empty state. Isaac strode over, arms crossed and eyes assessing.
"Not bad," he said, though his tone was as close to impressed as I'd ever heard. "But remember—one slip, one mistake, and that's the end of you. Dismissed."
As we headed toward the exit, Dorian slapped me on the back, his grin undiminished. "That was something, huh? At this rate, semester exams are going to feel like a stroll in the park."
I managed a tired smile, Isaac's words still echoing in my mind. Survive together, or fall alone.