I've been naïve.
Two years of intense training and a month's worth of experience wasn't nearly enough. There were flaws in my swordsmanship—clear ones I couldn't ignore anymore—and then there was my aura. That word still echoed in my mind, "fake." I think I understood now why they called it that.
"Delilah?" I called out into the emptiness of my thoughts, hoping for a response.
But there was only quiet.
Recently, Delilah had been uncharacteristically silent. She was always there, guiding me, warning me, but now... nothing. I feared Hans might have damaged her, or worse, maybe she was sulking? I had no idea how she truly worked, what her thoughts or emotions, if any, might be.
[Rebooting at 27%.]
I blinked. Rebooting? What did that even mean?
[Please be patient, Ron.]
Her voice was faint, mechanical, and far from reassuring. Still, it was something.
"Are you there?" I asked again, a bit more desperately this time.
Silence.
Something was happening to her, something beyond my control. And I had no idea what to do.
I arrived at the gates, feeling a mix of uncertainty and curiosity. Kids my age gathered, all from different backgrounds, if their clothing was anything to go by. If Delilah were active, she would have told me with a thought exactly how many of us were here. But I had to estimate, maybe forty at most.
I glanced down at the token Zatria had given me. Engraved on it was the number one. I didn't know what it meant yet, but it felt heavy in my hand—like it carried a weight beyond just its metal.
A serious-looking man with a scarred face and armor stepped forward, pushing open the giant gates by himself. The noise it made was deafening, and I couldn't help but wonder how much those gates must weigh. Following closely behind him was a fully plated knight, their features completely concealed, and a woman wearing customized steel armor, her dark hair flowing freely despite the battlefield-like atmosphere.
"My name is Henfor," the scarred man began, his voice carrying authority, "and I will be the chief proctor for the entrance exam. Beside me is Lady Farah and Sir Korman."
I watched them closely as he continued, "The tokens you've received aren't enough to get you admitted easily into this prestigious learning institution. We need to see willpower, potential, and a willingness to give it your all."
His words sent a ripple through the group.
"Let me make one thing clear," Henfor's voice cut through the crowd, sharp and stern. "The Free Knights' Academy is no charity case. So believe me when I say we won't be wasting it on an idiot, on the talentless, or on someone who won't put in the work. The tokens given to you are laced with the hopes, dreams, and expectations of the Free Knights that chose you. Don't disappoint them."
I gripped my token tighter. I hadn't come here for glory or recognition. I came to get stronger, to learn how to master this aura and avenge my village, friends, and… family. That was my only focus. I hardened my resolve as I listened.
Lady Farah spoke next, her voice rising above the murmurs. "These are the rules: you have a token in your hand. Lose it, and you're out. Take one away from someone else, and you gain a point. Collect ten points, and you're in. Fail, and you may try again next year. We give second chances, but never a third."
I scanned the crowd. Some kids clutched their tokens defensively, already nervous. Then there were others—eyes sharp, hungry, already sizing up their competition. They were likely repeaters, kids who had failed before and were trying their luck again.
Sir Korman, in full armor, spoke last with an unexpectedly calm tone. "The time limit is ten minutes. No killing. If your token is taken, you have one minute to recover it or steal from another. After that, you're out."
Ten minutes. Ten points. I glanced at my token again, feeling the pressure mounting. Around me, the tension was building as everyone braced for the chaos to come. I wasn't just here to survive—I was here to win.
"Start!" Henfor's voice rang out, abrupt and sharp, catching most of the kids off-guard.
I didn't waste a second. The moment the word left his mouth, I burst forward, my aura flaring to life. I knew it was cheating—at least, it felt like it. Most kids my age couldn't even dream of tapping into aura, let alone wielding it with any real power. To them, I must have appeared like a blur.
I felt the gazes of the three knights on me, their eyes tracking my every movement. For just a moment, I caught a glimpse of surprise—something I wasn't expecting from seasoned knights like them.
Nine other kids who had stood out to me as strong, the ones I thought might be real competition, crumpled to the ground. Face-first. All at once. Gasps echoed through the air as the crowd realized what had just happened.
I walked straight up to Henfor, not sparing a glance at the chaos behind me. I dropped exactly ten tokens into his hand. His eyes widened, and he almost fumbled them in his shock.
Without a word, I walked past the knights and through the academy gates, leaving the stunned silence behind me.
While inside, I didn't know exactly what to expect. The academy was different from what I had imagined. Pillars of stone rose up on either side of the path, carved with intricate designs of knights from times long past. Murals stretched along the walls, depicting battles, oaths, and moments of glory. And then there was the garden—lush, peaceful, and out of place in a world of stone and steel.
"That was an impressive display, but you could use a bit more practice," a voice said behind me.
I turned around and saw a blind old man standing there, dressed in simple robes. His eyes were cloudy, but his stance was solid, and a sheathed sword hung loosely at his waistband.
"I came to learn," I said, unsure why I felt the need to explain myself to him. "I was told to learn in this place, so I came."
The old man smiled faintly. "And learn you shall, if you're willing."