It was Friday, which meant the awaited class, Practical Application of Spell Arts, was finally here. The course would run all day, and Croy and the other students had received a message on their Smartwatches yesterday instructing them to show up at the Academy's main square at exactly 7:00 a.m. with all their equipment, including Spellweapons and any other gear they would be using.
And so, here Croy stood, with his Spellsword at his hip. He'd left his Spellpistol at home, as it was no longer part of his toolkit. He was tired from the day before, but not exhausted the way he would have been after training.
Beside him stood Inera and a pale-faced Fredrik, looking like death itself. Fredrik had his longbow strapped to his back, and Inera's whip was coiled at her belt. She glanced between the two boys with questioning eyes… until she shrugged and lost interest.
Were he and Fredrik really that rough?
All the other students in their program were gathered on the square as well. There was young Lord Jradan with his metallic Spellspear, the Imperial twins with the Emperor's katanas — long live the Emperor — and, of course, Princess Kadutor and her friend Emma.
Croy glanced at them only briefly. He wasn't angry at Princess Kadutor anymore, but he didn't want anything to do with her just yet.
"There comes the professor," Inera said.
A man approached from the main building. He was very young, younger than Cookoff, and strolled over with his hands in his robe pockets, exuding a casual air that contrasted sharply with the students' tension.
The man had thick black hair and an attitude uncharacteristic of a professor — but to Croy, his young age spoke volumes about his abilities. This wasn't just anyone.
The man clapped his hands, though he already had everyone's attention.
"Good morning, everyone!" he called out enthusiastically.
"I'm Professor Tass, and I'll be your instructor for the Practical Application course. Does anyone know what that means?"
Someone raised a hand, and Professor Tass nodded to them to speak.
"We're finally going to use our spells?"
Some students murmured excitedly. So far, any real training had mostly been focused on Spellweapon handling, so most hadn't had many chances to demonstrate their actual spellcasting skills since the first day.
Professor Tass laughed.
"I see you're motivated. Wonderful — then let's not waste any time, and I'll explain what's happening today."
Croy listened intently. He'd been looking forward to this class and was curious to finally learn what it would actually involve.
"First, you need to know that no week will be the same. Each week, your skills will be tested in one way or another," Professor Tass explained cheerfully.
"The second thing you need to know is that today is special. Since you've had a week to settle in, it's time to assign you your ranks."
A ripple of excitement ran through the crowd.
'Our ranks?'
Croy thought first of his identification card and the mysterious number that was engraved on it. Was that what the professor meant?
Professor Tass let the excitement build for a moment before taking charge again.
"Yes, you heard me right. Did you think that everyone at the Imperial Academy would be treated equally?"
Now Croy's brow furrowed. Professor Tass was still speaking as politely and cheerfully as before, but Croy didn't like where this was going. Other students looked equally puzzled.
"Let me explain," said Professor Tass. "You are not all equal. And I don't mean in terms of your personalities, appearances, or status. No. It's simple. There are the strong and the weak."
Some students were visibly offended.
But Professor Tass silenced them with his next words, spoken with the friendliest smile in the world.
"In my eyes, some of you simply don't deserve to be here. That's why today you'll find out whether you're worthy of wearing this uniform."
A few students shouted in protest.
"How dare he?"
"What gives him the right?"
Others, however, looked pleased. While Croy wasn't a big fan of individual rankings, he couldn't deny that he was curious to see how he measured up against the others. But it seemed to mean something entirely different to Professor Tass.
"Say what you want, but your ranks won't lie. After today, you'll know who deserves to stand at the top, and who deserves to be called trash. You're wondering what gives me the right to say these things? I give myself that right. Because I am strong - and only the strong will be left standing in the future."
There was a moment of silence. Then came an uproar. Some were angry, others visibly fearful of what lay ahead. Still others burned with anticipation for the challenge.
"For those of you who can't even move due to anxiety today, don't worry, your rank will be adjusted weekly," added Professor Tass over the commotion.
And no matter what anyone said, it was clear that everyone was asking themselves one question:
'How strong am I?'
A small sound suddenly came from Croy's Smartwatch. He glanced at it, and shortly afterward, the students around him received the same message. It was a single file. Croy opened it and found a map displayed on his Smartwatch.
But it wasn't a map of the Academy. It looked like a city plan.
Professor Tass answered the question on everyone's mind.
"What you just received is the map of where today's course will take place. It's the neighborhood right next to the Academy. Nothing special, just a normal residential area with a few shops and a main street."
Croy suppressed a grimace. Professor Tass was relentless — even though he smiled like a priest, he was merciless as he continued his announcement.
The professor's plan had clearly been to ignite a fierce, competitive spirit in the students — and he'd succeeded.
"Today, we're going to play a little game. You'll be divided into teams of three — 67 teams in total. Scattered throughout the neighborhood are buildings that belong to the Academy, though we won't tell you which ones. Your task is simple: win and take down anyone who dares to stand in your way."
His friendly smile turned into a fiery grin. The students stopped murmuring and talking to one another, all of them focused on Professor Tass's words.
"And one last thing you need to know about this course before I explain the rules: this is the only class where your life might be in danger."
After this unconventional introduction, Professor Tass explained the remaining necessary details.
The rules of the competition were simple, but that didn't make things any easier. Hidden throughout the Academy's buildings were Terminals that each team could activate by being within a ten-meter radius and connecting via their Smartwatch.
Once a Terminal was activated, all nearby teams would immediately be alerted to its location. A team would need to hold a Terminal for ten minutes to claim it definitively. However, during the process of claiming it, any other team could override this control by touching the Terminal directly for thirty seconds.
Victory meant ending the day with the most Terminals under control by six p.m. — a seemingly simple concept, but with potentially chaotic consequences. Spells and Spellweapons were allowed, but the buildings themselves were so heavily warded with Barrier Spellrunes that destruction was out of the question.
Fights were inevitable, but the Academy's Smartwatches served as a safety net. The enchantments on the Smartwatches would activate an automatic barrier if a student took a hit severe enough to count as unconscious or even dead.
However, triggering the automatic barrier would mean immediate elimination from the competition.
The whole event would last all day. Anyone endangering civilians would be disqualified, and using Spells outside the Academy grounds could lead to severe punishment — potentially even by imperial law, if the consequences were serious enough.
A risky test, a game of control and strategy, and the absolute freedom to use Spells without restraint as long as it stayed within Academy grounds.
Croy clenched his fists. This was exactly the kind of challenge he'd been waiting for. He didn't care about the rank, but he wanted to prove himself against his fellow students.
He wanted to win.
And he had a crucial advantage. Because this competition was nothing less than urban combat in a disaster zone.
Nothing less than the war in the ruined cities of the Empire.
A grin crept onto his face.
This time, he wouldn't lose.
***
Nearly an hour had passed since Professor Tass's introduction. Croy stood with his two teammates in the middle of the city district. For the capital, there were surprisingly few civilians around — doubtless, the Academy's doing. Their starting position had been determined randomly, as had his teammates.
In just five minutes, the competition would begin.
Speaking of teammates, Croy had somehow expected fate to play a cruel joke on him again. After being challenged by the Lord of Chins and then reduced to a pawn in Princess Kadutor's boredom, he wouldn't have been surprised to find himself "coincidentally" paired with the Imperial twins or something similar.
Fortunately, this wasn't some novel.
His teammates were strangers, and, to his surprise, they seemed like normal students! Nervous yet friendly and excited for the competition!
He could hardly believe it.
Their names were Ben and Portis.
Ben was the well-trained son of a minor noble family — but Croy had quickly discovered that he'd been well-raised, as Ben was as kind as they come.
Portis was the oldest among them. He had attended a different academy before getting the chance to transfer to the Imperial Academy. His background was nothing special, but he was a friendly young man.
Croy was almost relieved. Working with Fredrik and Inera would've been fun, but they always seemed to end up in the strangest situations.
Portis shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, barely able to contain his excitement.
"So," he said, "what's the plan?"
So far, they had only introduced themselves and analyzed the situation and rules. They all agreed on one thing — whoever activated a Terminal first would clearly be at a disadvantage.
At least, it seemed that way at first glance. But Croy had a key advantage on his side: experience.
"We'll steer clear of the strong teams at first. No fights with any monsters — the competition will last all day, so we need to conserve our energy," he said, and the two boys nodded in agreement.
"Should we wait until someone activates a Terminal?" Ben asked.
A fair question, but Croy had already considered it.
"More or less. We'll find a Terminal — but wait to activate it. With so many eager teams, some won't be able to resist claiming a Terminal right away. The fact that our ranks depend on our performance in this competition only heightens that urge," Croy began.
Ben and Portis nodded in understanding.
"So what will we wait for?"
"For another Terminal nearby to be activated. Since we don't know if we'll receive the notification while inside a building, two of us will stay inside while one keeps watch outside. Once another team activates a Terminal, we'll wait a bit, then activate ours as well."
"I get it. That way, we won't draw too much attention."
"Exactly."
"But how do we even find a Terminal? The buildings are supposed to look like any other," Ben asked.
A valid question. But Portis seemed to have an answer.
"It must be the barriers on the buildings — they're likely large-scale rune spells. We should be able to sense the Mana."
Croy had reached the same conclusion.
"Then we have our plan," he said, satisfied.
Then he turned to his two teammates with a smile.
"And once we're inside a building and ready to activate the Terminal, follow my lead."
He almost felt sorry for the other students.