"Kid, you're quite greedy!"
The old man's voice was dry, but his tone was light. He didn't seem angry, just amused.
Julian grinned. "Isn't it better to be hungry for more than to be satisfied with nothing?"
"A greedy snake trying to swallow an elephant often chokes," the old man countered. "Now, hurry up and choose. There's a line forming behind you."
"Fine, fine," Julian nodded. He knew he was pushing his luck, but in this world, if you didn't ask, you didn't get. "I'll take the Solar Flare Meditation and the Sun-Gathering Manor."
He pointed to the entries in the ledger. The old man didn't say another word. He simply waved his hand, and two items appeared on the counter: a glowing jade slip and a tiny, intricate model of a white stone palace.
"Now get out of here, you greedy brat," the old man grunted, closing his eyes and leaning back.
Julian didn't wait for a second invitation. He scooped up his rewards and left the Vault.
Once Julian was gone, the old man—known as Elder Silas—opened one eye. "Greedy indeed," he muttered to himself.
He had overseen the Vault for ten years and had seen hundreds of students. Most were too terrified to ask for extra. But Julian was different. Silas shook his head slightly.
"If you have the talent, there are treasures in this school far greater than these basic trinkets. But the real question is: can your Hallowed Realm handle it?"
Even a basic Relic required a foundation. If a student tried to force a high-level treasure into a weak, newly-formed Realm, the space would shatter like glass. And if your Realm shattered, your journey to the Eternal stage was over.
Julian didn't hear the Elder's warning. He was already heading toward the hall assigned to the High Dragon Class.
When he stepped inside, he stopped short. There were about thirty students already there, and the air in the room felt heavy—thick with the scent of ozone, fire, and raw power.
"Wait," Julian whispered. "Are there really this many geniuses in the Academy?"
"Welcome to the den, brother!" A boy with a wide smile walked over. "I'm Cyrus. My Realm has the 'Blaze' trait. Everything I grow there is infused with fire. What about you?"
Julian looked around. He was a Rank 7 Mortal, yet he felt like he had just walked into a wolf's den. The auras of the other students were far more intense than his own.
"Does everyone here have a Realm Trait?" Julian asked, genuinely confused.
Cyrus blinked, then laughed. "Of course! You can't get into the High Dragon Class without a Trait. Didn't you know?"
"Cyrus, leave him alone," a familiar voice rang out. Elena Vane stepped forward, her arms crossed. "Julian isn't from a Great House. He doesn't know how the game is played yet."
"What do you mean?" Julian asked.
"Most of these people," Elena gestured to the room, "used a Trait Stone. It's a rare item found in the Stargates that forces a Trait to appear when you ignite your Realm. The Great Houses buy them for their children."
Julian's heart sank. "So... Traits aren't one-in-a-million?"
"Using a stone is common for nobles," Cyrus explained, his voice turning more serious. "But those forced Traits are usually low-grade. They don't grow or evolve. But a natural Trait? One given by the world itself? That's still incredibly rare. There are probably only five of us in this room who didn't use a stone."
Julian felt a surge of pride. He was one of the five.
Before they could talk more, a man with a messy beard and piercing eyes walked into the room. This was Instructor Orrin, a veteran of the Stargates.
"Listen up," Orrin barked. "You've all got your Relics. You've all got your Traits. But don't get cocky. A Relic is a tool, not a win-button. If you try to force a treasure that is too powerful into a Realm that is too small, you will explode. Your Realm will collapse, and you'll spend the rest of your life as a cripple."
He glared at Julian and the other commoner students specifically. "You don't have elders at home to tell you this, so listen: Foundations matter more than shiny toys."
Julian realized why the old man at the Vault had called him greedy. He hadn't realized the danger.
"You have three days," Instructor Orrin continued. "Log into the Aether-Net and study the manuals. In three days, the High Dragon Class will take its first mission. We are heading into a Level One Stargate."
The room went dead silent. The Stargates were where the real monsters lived—and where the real legends were born.