The cafeteria smells of spiced meats and something…floral? Definitely not the greasy diner aromas I remember. I head for the line, stomach rumbling, finally ready for a proper meal. Just as I'm about to step up, a trio of cadets barrel past, bumping into me.
"Move it, trash," one sneers without even a glance.
Sigh
They're not worth it
I step into line, focusing on what more important than some idoits. This academy has everything, apparently. A menu board lists options I can barely pronounce, but a burger and fries jump out. Feels normal. I order, adding a sprite, no ice—an old habit. It's the little things, I guess, the echoes of a life I barely remember, that make this feel almost real. Almost.
I snag my tray and scan the room for an open table. Most are packed, clusters of laughing students already claiming their territory. Finally, I spot one tucked away in the corner, thankfully vacant. Perfect. I settle in, savoring the quiet for a moment. It's a small victory, a sliver of peace in this chaotic new world.
The burger smells incredible. I take a bite, and…wow. It's not a Five Guys burger, not even close, but it's damn good. Real meat, a toasted bun, crisp lettuce. A wave of contentment washes over me. I chase it with a sip of sprite, the fizz a welcome sensation, and then a handful of perfectly golden fries. This…this is livable.
I'm halfway through the burger, utterly absorbed in the simple pleasure of eating, when shadows fall over my table. I slowly look up.
"Hey, trash."
It's the guy who shoved me earlier, flanked by his two equally unpleasant friends. They're grinning, clearly looking for a reaction. My jaw tightens. So much for peace.
The leader stops directly in front of me, chest puffed out like a puffed-up bird. "Enjoying your meal, trash?" He emphasizes the word, dripping with contempt. "Thought I recognized you. The Heroic Corps' little pet. What, they send you here to spy on us?"
I don't bother looking up. Just take another bite of burger, savoring the taste.
"I said, are you spying on us?"
He's getting louder now, attracting glances from nearby tables. Still, I chew, swallow, and take another delicate sip of sprite.
That seems to push him over the edge.
Suddenly, a hand smashes into my own, sending the burger and fries flying. They land with a splat on the floor, a greasy mess. I blink, surprised more than anything, as his fingers tighten around my collar, yanking me forward.
"Who do you think you are, commoner trash, to ignore me?" he snarls, face inches from mine. "You think just because the Heroic Corps took a liking to you, you're better than everyone else?"
Seriously? This is a hero academy? I was expecting… I don't know, honor? Decorum? Apparently, it's just a breeding ground for entitled bullies.
I let a slow smile spread across my face, tilting my head slightly.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," I say, my voice dripping with mock sincerity.
"Did my refusal to acknowledge your magnificent presence wound your delicate ego? It's a tragedy, truly. Maybe you need a safe space that allows you to express yourself."
His face turns an alarming shade of red. All the bravado seems to deflate, replaced by pure, blind rage. "You little…" He winds back his fist, aiming for my jaw.
Honestly, I barely register the movement. My hand shoots up, catching his fist in a firm grip.
His eyes widen in disbelief. For a moment, he just hangs there, suspended in mid-air, his knuckles white. A collective gasp ripples through the cafeteria.
Around us, the chatter dies down. Heads turn. Forks pause halfway to mouths. I can feel dozens of eyes on me, A few look genuinely surprised.
He tries to yank his fist free, but I hold firm. It's not even exerting much effort. His strength is…underwhelming. I could probably fold him in half like origami. Which I refrain from doing. For now.
"Is that all you got?" I ask, my voice calm, almost bored. "I expected a little more from a future hero. Honestly, I've seen more threatening kittens."
The cadet tugged again, a frustrated grunt escaping his lips. What the fuck? he seemed to think, his eyes wide with disbelief. Why is this trash's grip so strong? "You guys gonna help me or just watch?" he barked at his two friends, a desperate edge to his voice.
They started to move forward, eager to join the fray, but a voice cut through the rising tension. "What's going on here?"
A hush fell over the cafeteria. Every head turned. It was Selene Halix.
She rarely graced the cafeteria with her presence. Her appearance stirred a ripple of surprise through the crowd. She moved with a quiet authority, a composed grace that commanded attention.
She walked directly towards Cael and the other cadet, her expression unreadable. Anticipating her arrival, Cael loosened his grip, releasing the cadet's hand just before Selene reached them. The cadet, clearly relieved, stumbled back, adjusting his collar.
Selene stopped directly in front of them, her gaze sweeping over both of them. "What happened here?" she asked, her voice cool and even.
The cadet quickly recovered, a practiced innocence washing over his face. "Nothing, Miss Halix. We were just…talking."
Selene's face darkened. It was a subtle shift, a tightening of her jaw, but it didn't escape anyone's notice. "We're all equal in the academy," she stated, her tone laced with steel.
"Yes, Selene," the cadet stammered, quickly correcting himself. What a simp, Cael thought, a flicker of disgust crossing his features.
He was about to turn and walk away, wanting to avoid a pointless lecture, but Selene's gaze locked onto his. "And you?" she asked, her voice sharp and direct. "Is that true?"
Cael turned back, raising an eyebrow. "You talking to me?"
"I know you're new here," Selene continued, her expression unyielding, "but you shouldn't be causing trouble unnecessarily."
Is she an idiot? Cael thought, his irritation growing. He'd dealt with enough naive do-gooders in his past life. Then, he remembered. This wasn't some anime cliché. This was a B-ranker, a prodigy, someone he definitely shouldn't provoke. Still, he wasn't about to let her dictate the narrative.
He casually slipped his hands into his pockets, met her gaze with a brazen confidence. "You weren't even here to know what happened, and you're already placing the blame on me?"
Selene's annoyance flickered across her face, betraying her composure. A murmur rippled through the surrounding students. Someone, a nobody, was actually talking back to Selene Halix.
Before Selene could respond, she took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. He had a point. "You're right," she conceded, her tone softening. "My apologies."
"It's fine," Cael replied, a charming smirk playing on his lips. "I'm a very forgiving person." He turned and walked away, leaving Selene standing there, a frustrated expression etched on her face.
As Cael disappeared into the crowd, the cadet from earlier, emboldened by Selene's earlier attention, tentatively approached her. "Selene, I… I was wondering if you'd like to see a movie sometime?"
Selene barely glanced at him, her expression radiating pure disdain. Seriously? she thought to herself.
* * *
The stale air of Arena 4 hangs heavy with the scent of sweat and ozone. Seriously, do they not air this place out? I lean against the cool stone wall, watching Liorra effortlessly dismantle some poor sap with a flurry of ice shards. She moves like liquid mercury, graceful and deadly. Makes it look too easy.
Evan's up next, and he's predictably tearing through his opponent. He's all smiles and playful jabs, but there's a precision to his movements. He's a swordsman's and he has an interesting fighting style too, it seems like he's dancing with his sword with not rigid movements. Impressive.
Professor Finhald, a gruff man with a permanent scowl, barks out instructions between matches. "Foundations, cadets! Weapon mastery is the bedrock upon which all else is built! Cultivate it, amplify it, or be swept away!" Dramatic much?
They call name after name, each duel a short burst of controlled chaos. Then, the inevitable.
"Ardentis," Finhald booms, his eyes sweeping over me with a dismissive glance. "You're up.you will go against Kalen Volkov"
Volkov. Great. The guy is built like a brick shithouse, all muscle and grim determination. He favors a massive warhammer, and from the way he's testing the weight of it, I suspect he likes to hit things. Hard.
I push off the wall, retrieving my katana from my inventory.
Evan strolled over to where Selene, Aria, Nyra, and Liorra were huddled, a smirk playing on his lips as he surveyed the arena. "Looks like it's our mystery transfer student that's next," he commented, his gaze fixing on Cael as he stepped into the ring.
Aria bounced on the balls of her feet, excitement radiating from her. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to seeing what he can do to warrant sponsorship by the Heroic Corps! It's not everyday they throw money at a random transfer."
"Did you hear?" she continued, turning to Nyra, "apparently he got into it with Cedric yesterday, and people are saying he held his ground? What really happened?"
Nyra adjusted her glasses, her expression thoughtful. She turned to Selene, seeking confirmation. "Is that true? You were there, right? Did you see what happened?"
Selene paused, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "I'm not sure," she finally said, "By the time I got there and questioned them, they were already separated."
Evan chuckled, leaning back against the railing. "Well, we're about to find out if it's true or not." He fixed his eyes on the stage, watching Cael face off against Volkov.
Cael Ardentis stepped into the arena, the gritty dust crunching under his boots. Volkov towered over him, a mountain of muscle and simmering aggression. He barely glanced at the katana in Cael's hand before letting out a booming scoff. "You won't be able to touch me with that twig."
Cael blinked, genuinely surprised by the sheer size of the man. It wasn't just height; Volkov was wide, a walking fortress of bone and sinew. He hefted the warhammer, testing its weight with a casual flex. "We'll see about that, won't we?" Cael retorted, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. It wasn't bravado—more a detached curiosity. He hadn't truly tested Void Flash against a moving target, and Volkov looked like an excellent candidate.
Instructor Finhald, looking supremely unimpressed, barked, "Begin!"
Volkov moved. And he moved fast. For someone his size, the initial rush was startling. He covered the distance between them with terrifying speed, the warhammer whistling through the air.
Cael didn't bother waiting to be tested for durability. He activated Spatial Sense, the world momentarily blurring as he mapped Volkov's trajectory, calculating the precise moment to displace himself. Then, Void Flash.
One moment he was facing the hammer's descent, the next he materialized directly in front of Volkov, close enough to smell the man's sweat and the metallic tang of exertion. Volkov's eyes widened in astonishment, his swing thrown off balance. The warhammer sailed harmlessly over Cael's head.
Before Volkov could recover, Cael activated Void Flash again, reappearing directly behind him.
The hammer swung again, a brutal arc aimed to flatten anyone in its path. Cael teleported. Missed. Again he rematerialized behind Volkov as the hammer slammed into the dirt, sending a tremor through the arena floor.
Volkov spun, a furious roar escaping his lips, swinging the hammer in a wide, sweeping motion. Cael teleported in a flicker of blue energy, and reappeared just out of reach.
The crowd gasped, a collective intake of breath that echoed across the arena. A ripple of murmurings spread through the stands. Spatial magic. It wasn't unheard of, but it was rare. And to witness such control over it, to blink in and out of existence with such precision…it was remarkable.
"He can use spatial magic?" Aria shrieked, practically vibrating with excitement. "I knew there was something different about him!"
Evan grinned, a flash of white teeth against his tanned skin. "Interesting. Very interesting." He leaned forward, his gaze unwavering.
Nyra, was already analyzing, her brow furrowed in concentration. "The fluidity of his transitions…minimal distortion, near-instantaneous relocation. He has a good, natural control over it for someone so new."
Selen remained silent, her icy blue eyes fixed on Cael, an unreadable expression masking her thoughts.
Volkov, meanwhile, was not pleased. The initial shock of Cael's ability had given way to incandescent rage. He roared, a primal sound that rattled the stone walls. And then, something shifted. A red, almost purplish hue began to envelop him, radiating outwards like a heatwave.
"He's activating his Gift," Evan noted, his voice losing its playful tone. "Enhanced Strength. Standard for Volkov's lineage. Nasty stuff."
Volkov moved. Not just moved—exploded into motion. The change in speed was jarring, inhuman. Cael barely had time to register the shift before Volkov's warhammer was whistling towards his head again, a blur of metal and fury.
Cael teleported, calculating the distance and timing with practiced ease. He materialized a hair's breadth away from the descending hammer, the wind from its passage ruffling his hair. It was a tighter escape than before, dangerously close.
He reappeared behind Volkov, taking advantage of the momentary disorientation. Now.
Cael activated the Eye of Power, channeling a small fraction of its potential. Odin's echoed in his mind. "Eye of Power activated – ten percent."
A surge of energy coursed through Cael's arm, a tingling warmth that focused into a single point. He didn't bother with finesse; didn't bother with a complicated technique. Just a simple, direct punch, aimed at Volkov's side.
The impact was…catastrophic.
It wasn't the technique that mattered, but the sheer force amplified by the Eye of Power. The sound was sickening – a dull thud followed by a cracking whimper. Volkov's body, a fortress of muscle and bone, launched across the arena, propelled by the force of the blow.
He didn't just stumble. He didn't just fall.
He flew.
Sailing through the air like a ragdoll, Volkov crashed into the stone wall surrounding the arena, impacting with a resounding boom that shook the entire structure. Dust rained down from the ceiling, and cracks spiderwebbed across the stone where Volkov's body had collided with it.
Silence descended. A stunned, absolute silence.
Instructor Finhald was the first to break the spell, his face a mask of disbelief. He hadn't expected a D-Rank cadet, especially a transfer, to display that level of raw power."What… was that?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "he didn't even activate his gift."
Evan wore a sheepish grin. He leaned toward Lyra, whispering, "Seriously, who is this guy?" His eyes darted between Cael and the incapacitated Volkov with barely concealed intrigue. He was a competitor, after all, and Cael had just thrown a wrench into the rankings.
Nyra, the analytical one, was visibly shaken. She hadn't anticipated Cael possessing that kind of physical strength, let alone the ability to channel it with such devastating precision. Her meticulous worldview was crumbling at the edges. Aria, predictably, was buzzing with excitement. "Oh. My. Gods! Did you see that?! That wall is totally wrecked!"
Selene, normally composed and unreadable, had momentarily lost her composure. Her eyes widened for a fleeting second before regaining their composure. Then, she fixed Cael with an intense, scrutinizing stare.
Selene's gaze remained locked on Cael and now, she saw the surprise mirrored on his own face. He stared at his hand, flexing the fingers as if unsure if they still belonged to him.
Cael stared at his hand, flexing the fingers as if unsure if they still belonged to him. What was that? Ten percent. He'd been trying to hold back, consciously limiting the Eye of Power's output, and that was the result? A slow grin spread across his face. Okay, that was…interesting.
He glanced around, taking in the stunned faces. Instructor Finhald was slowly emerging from his daze. The man's gaze swept over Cael, lingering for an uncomfortable moment before snapping back to the motionless form of Volkov.
"Umm," Cael said, raising a hand tentatively. "Instructor? I think you should call the duel."
Finhald blinked, as if remembering his duties. "Right. Right." He cleared his throat. "Ardentis wins! Volkov" He barked orders at nearby assistants, summoning medics to haul the groaning Volkov away.
Cael didn't waste a second. The stunned silence of the arena was a suffocating blanket, and he needed air, needed space to process what had just happened. He slipped away from the lingering crowd, disappearing into the echoing hallway outside, leaving the murmurs and confusion behind. As he reached the relative quiet, he sighed, sucking in a breath of cool, filtered air. "Gotta be more careful," he muttered to himself. He hadn't even thought about the implications of using the Eye of Power, hadn't considered the reaction.
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice, laced with amusement. "So you're just gonna disappear after putting on a show like that, huh?"
Cael turned, recognizing the dark-haired youth leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Evan Kael. He recalled the name being called in class. Evan sauntered forward, a confident swagger in his stride.
"I'm Evan Kael," he announced with a grin, extending a hand. "Resident ladies' man."
Cael shook his hand, noting the firm grip. "Cael Ardentis."
Evan's smile widened. "That was kinda cool what you did back there. That's some serious strength. Didn't even look like you were trying." He paused, studying Cael with shrewd, assessing eyes. "and your spatial magic how are you able to teleport so precisely?"
Cael shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Just got lucky, I guess."
Evan's grin widened, a flash of white teeth. "Well, for a guy that looks so weak, you sure are full of surprises." He scanned Cael's attire, his gaze lingering on the simple metal band on Cael's finger. "You don't even seem to be wearing any magical artifacts. Even that ring looks plain."
Cael glanced down at the ring, a smirk playing at his lips.
"Well," Evan continued, holding up his hands in a gesture of camaraderie, "if you ever need any help, let me know. I'm pretty famous around here." He gave a final, jaunty wave before turning and heading back towards the arena.
Cael watched him go, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. Weird. He thought to himself. And do I really look that weak?
A cool, detached voice echoed in his mind. "Affirmative.
"Shut up"
To be continued…