Ren's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the glowing blue screen hovering in front of him. The numbers and words stared back at him in silent derision, their presence too bizarre to comprehend.
[Status: Activated]
Name: Ren
Lifespan: 17 yrs (87+ years)
Race: ???
Class: None
Mana Circle: 0 Star (0.10%)
Strength: 6 | Defense: 5
Stamina: 4 | Agility: 4
Constitution: 6 | Mana: 0.5
Techniques: None
Skills: None
He stared at the screen, his brows drawing together in disbelief. "What the hell is this...?" he muttered under his breath.
Ren instinctively reached out, but his fingers passed through the glowing text. He jerked his hand back, eyes narrowing. Am I seeing things? He took a step back, his mind racing for a rational explanation. Maybe it was some kind of augmented reality trick—something slipped into his food, or an experiment being run without his knowledge. The academy was known for testing out strange technology.
He glanced around, but Wolfe and Vance were walking ahead without a care in the world, completely unaware of the surreal display before him.
No way this is real.
Ren exhaled sharply through his nose and shook his head. The screen still lingered in front of him, unwavering. He blinked once, twice, but it didn't fade away. His stomach twisted with unease. It was too structured, too precise to be a random hallucination.
His gaze locked onto the numbers. Strength: 6, Stamina: 4... Mana? Since when do I have mana? He swallowed hard, forcing himself to analyze it objectively.
"This is stupid," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Maybe I'm just exhausted."
He dismissed the screen with a wave of his hand, half-expecting it to disappear like a bad dream. To his relief, it flickered and vanished, but the uneasy feeling in his gut remained.
"Kid?" Wolfe's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Ren straightened up instantly. "I—I'm fine," he said, brushing it off. His voice came out steadier than he felt.
Wolfe studied him for a moment but didn't push. Vance, on the other hand, simply motioned forward. "Come on. You're wasting time."
Ren fell in line, his mind still replaying the screen over and over. He could still see it in his head, burned into his memory. He flexed his fingers unconsciously, testing his strength. 6... Is that good? Bad?
As they walked down the long corridors of the academy, Wolfe shot him a sideways glance. "You're gonna have to take a test," he said, almost too casually.
Ren glanced at him. "A test for what?"
"To see what you're made of," Wolfe replied with a grin. "Strength, agility, stamina—the works. They need to know if you're worth their time."
Ren frowned. "Great. Just what I needed," he said, sarcasm lacing his words.
"Don't think too hard about it," Wolfe said with a shrug. "Just don't embarrass yourself."
Ren scoffed. "Yeah, thanks for the encouragement."
"Anytime," Wolfe smirked. Then, he stretched and rolled his shoulders. "Anyway, I gotta head off. Work calls. But don't slack off. I'll be watching."
Ren gave him a nod, keeping his expression neutral. "Yeah, sure."
Wolfe clapped him on the back before heading off, leaving Ren with Vance.
Vance didn't wait. "Let's go," he said, already turning toward the training grounds.
Ren followed Vance down the endless corridors of the academy, his fists clenched at his sides. The banners lining the stone walls, depicting long-dead warriors, felt like they were staring at him, mocking his presence here. His tail flicked sharply behind him, his frustration mounting with every step.
"So this test," Ren started, his voice edged with irritation, "what exactly does it prove? That I can swing a sword? That I can take a punch? Is that all that matters here?"
Vance didn't even slow down. "It proves if you're worth the effort. Some of us don't have time to waste."
Ren's jaw tightened, his frustration boiling beneath the surface. "And you've already made up your mind about me, huh?" he muttered, his voice low but dripping with defiance.
Vance glanced over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. "That depends. You planning to prove me wrong, or are you just gonna run your mouth?"
Ren's eyes darkened. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the familiar fire that had always driven him. "I'll do more than that. Just wait and see."
As they neared the courtyard, the noise of combat swelled—clanging weapons, grunts of exertion, the sharp hum of mana crackling through the air. The thick scent of sweat and burnt energy filled his nose, but Ren didn't care. His eyes locked onto the training grounds, taking in the rows of students engaged in intense sparring.
Then, the whispers started.
"That's him?"
"He doesn't look like much."
"He won't last a day."
Ren's teeth ground together. His shoulders squared as he met the stares head-on, his gaze daring them to say it to his face. Let them talk. Let them think whatever they want. I'll shut them all up soon enough.
"Relax," Vance said, though his tone was laced with amusement. "You'll have your chance soon."
Ren barely heard him. His eyes locked onto a student striking down his opponent with ease, the victor's gaze meeting his with a smug expression.
"Another one for the grinder, huh?" the fighter called out with a laugh.
Ren's lips curled into a sneer. "You wanna find out?" he shot back without hesitation, his voice carrying across the courtyard.
Vance grabbed his arm, pulling him forward. "Cool it, rookie. Your time's coming."
Ren wrenched his arm free, his glare fixed ahead. I don't care what it takes. I'm not losing to anyone.
Ren stepped onto the academy's sprawling training grounds, his dark blue eyes scanning the vast courtyard ahead. The space stretched far and wide, filled with students practicing sparring drills, mana manipulation, and endurance exercises under the watchful gaze of instructors. The sharp clang of steel against steel echoed in the air, mingling with the occasional grunt of exertion and the murmur of quiet conversations. He could feel the tension radiating through the atmosphere, thick and suffocating.
I'm not weak. I won't be weak, he thought, fists clenching at his sides. His jaw tightened as his eyes flitted to the looming training dummies ahead. Wolfe had said the test would measure his capabilities—but Ren knew the real test wasn't just the numbers. It was proving to himself and everyone else that he belonged here.
Vance led him to the first station: a towering, reinforced dummy made of dense steel and infused with mana, its surface covered in intricate engravings designed to absorb and measure impact force. The crowd of onlookers, mostly students taking a break from their own training, gathered around, whispering and eyeing him with disdain.
Ren tuned out the noise, his focus sharpening to the task at hand. "What do I do?" he asked, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
Vance crossed his arms, his gaze cold and unwavering. "Hit it. Hard as you can."
Ren took a deep breath, stepping up to the dummy. His fingers flexed, the knuckles tightening until they turned white. His body coiled with tension, muscles straining as he reeled back and threw a punch with everything he had.
BANG.
A dull, echoing thud resonated through the courtyard. The mana crystal embedded in the dummy's chest flickered, displaying the number:
[Strength: 6.0]
A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd.
"That's it?" one voice jeered.
"I've seen cadets hit harder than that!"
Ren's teeth ground together. His tail twitched violently in irritation. He drew his fist back and struck again, harder this time, sweat beading across his brow.
BANG.
[Strength: 6.3]
The jeering intensified. "What a joke! Guess demons aren't as strong as they say."
Ren's breath came faster, his frustration mounting. He wasn't going to let them get to him.
With a guttural growl, he tightened his core and slammed his fist into the dummy again, channeling every ounce of his anger and determination into the strike.
CRACK.
[Strength: 6.4]
It still wasn't enough.
He stepped back, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his academy-issued uniform. Vance's face remained impassive, but the disappointment was clear in his posture.
"That all you've got?" Vance muttered, jotting something down on his clipboard. "Move on."
Ren swallowed the lump in his throat and turned away from the dummy, his chest heaving with exertion and frustration.
Vance led him to the next challenge: a floating ring of mana-infused orbs designed to test his reaction speed and flexibility. The orbs pulsed rhythmically, waiting.
"Dodge them," Vance ordered. "They'll get faster. Don't get hit."
Ren stepped onto the platform, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. The first orb shot toward him, and he sidestepped quickly, avoiding it with ease. Another came, and he twisted, ducking under it just in time.
The pace quickened.
His breathing grew labored as the orbs came faster, striking at unpredictable angles. He dodged left, right, ducking low, but his reflexes weren't enough. An orb clipped his shoulder, sending a sharp sting through his body.
BEEP.
[Agility: 4]
Ren gritted his teeth, repositioning himself. His movements became more frantic, more desperate. He had to do better. His eyes darted from orb to orb, trying to predict their trajectory, but exhaustion crept into his limbs, dulling his reaction time. Another orb slammed into his leg, knocking him off balance.
BEEP.
He stumbled off the platform, panting heavily.
"Sloppy," Vance muttered. "You hesitate when you should move. That'll get you killed."
Ren clenched his fists. He knew that. He knew that. And yet his body just wouldn't listen.
Stamina Test
The final test was an endurance platform, its gravitational field designed to push cadets to their limits. Ren stepped onto it, and the moment the test activated, he felt the crushing weight press down on his body.
His legs trembled.
His breaths came in short, ragged bursts. The pressure intensified, digging into his muscles like lead weights. He could hear the murmurs around him, the whispers of his failure waiting to be solidified.
No. I won't lose. I won't fall here.
His fingers curled into fists as he fought to remain standing, his tail flicking in defiance. Seconds stretched into eternity, his vision narrowing, sweat dripping from his chin.
The gravity increased again.
His knees buckled.
His body screamed in protest, and finally, he collapsed to the platform with a painful thud.
[Stamina: 4.0]
The crowd erupted into murmurs and chuckles, but Ren couldn't hear them over the sound of his own ragged breathing. He clenched his fists against the cold stone, forcing himself upright despite the shaking in his limbs.
Vance clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Weak. Barely acceptable."
Ren staggered off the platform, his pride bruised more than his body. He felt every fiber of his being screaming at him, demanding he do more, push harder—but he couldn't, not now.
Duel Test
Vance's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "One last test. A duel."
Ren looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered cadet stepping into the sparring ring. Roland. His smirk was enough to make Ren's blood boil.
"All you have to do is land a single hit," Vance said. "Simple enough, right?"
Ren stepped forward, his legs still trembling, but his resolve burning hotter than ever.
"Begin!"
Roland moved first, fast and aggressive. Ren barely dodged the first strike, his body sluggish from the previous tests. Roland's fist slammed into his ribs, sending him skidding across the arena floor.
Ren coughed, tasting blood in his mouth. He pushed himself up, glaring at Roland. His mind raced. He needed a plan.
Wait for an opening.
Roland charged again, his stance revealing a slight weakness in his right side. Ren feinted left, then spun with his tail, catching Roland's ankle and sending him off balance.
With a roar, Ren lunged forward, landing a solid punch to Roland's jaw.
The crowd gasped.
[Duel Performance: 5/10]
Vance raised an eyebrow. "Barely passable. Training starts at dawn."