Diana clapped her hands twice.
The crisp sound echoed throughout the enormous Gravity Chamber, instantly silencing the chatter of the seventy-five first-years.
“We’re not here to socialize,” she said, her calm voice carrying effortlessly across the chamber.
“Each of you will enter an individual Gravity Chamber, adjust the gravity according to your current limits, and then begin training.”
The students immediately dispersed, making their way toward the rows of transparent chambers surrounding the arena.
“…Guess it’s my turn,” Dylan muttered, following the crowd.
“…Hey.” A familiar voice suddenly came from directly behind him.
Dylan nearly jumped out of his skin.
“What the hell, dude?!” Dylan said, startled.
“…That scared you?” Kalen said, blinking his eyes in disbelief.
“Yes, It did” Dylan said.
“My bad.” Kalen raised both hands in surrender.
“I just wanted to say see you later.”
“…You almost sent me to an early grave.”
“I’ll apologize at your funeral.”
“…That doesn’t even make sense.”
Kalen laughed.
“See you later.”
“…Yeah.” Dylan said, shaking his head.
“Oh, and try not to pass out,” Kalen said, casting a final backward glance as he made his way toward the other chamber.
“…I’ll do my best.”
The two parted ways, disappearing into different Gravity Chambers.
The reinforced door behind Dylan slid shut with a low mechanical hiss.
A faint vibration spread beneath his feet.
Immediately, he felt it.
The change in gravity.
It was not enough to make movement difficult, however it was enough for his body to recognise that he was standing somewhere different.
“…Runecraft.” Dylan muttered, looking around the chamber with quiet appreciation.
Every Gravity Chamber in Nexus Academy had been constructed through an extraordinary fusion of modern engineering and ancient Runecraft.
Thousands of engraved runic arrays hidden beneath the floor, walls, and ceiling continuously manipulated gravitational force with incredible precision.
The technology simply wouldn’t exist without Glyph Magic.
His eyes drifted toward the transparent walls.
To an ordinary student it appeared they could see straight outside.
But appearances were deceiving.
A faint smile formed on Dylan’s lips.
“Selective transparency.”
Another invention born from Runecraft.
From inside the chamber, students believed the walls were completely transparent.
In reality the professors outside could observe every movement with perfect clarity.
While the students couldn’t see them at all.
Even if Professor Diana stood directly in front of his chamber and stared him in the eyes.
He would only see an empty space.
It was one of the academy’s many methods of observing students naturally, without making them self-conscious.
“…Pretty clever.”
Outside the chambers…
Professor Diana slowly walked between the rows of transparent rooms, a digital tablet resting comfortably in one hand.
Her sapphire-blue eyes calmly observed every student’s movements.
Some had already assumed combat stances, practicing family martial arts beneath increasing gravity.
Others dropped to the floor, struggling through push-ups against the overwhelming pressure.
A handful simply stood still, allowing their bodies to gradually adapt before attempting anything more demanding.
Without realizing it, every movement they made, every hesitation, and every decision was already being carefully evaluated.
Professor Diana watched the students for another few moments before quietly letting out a disappointed sigh.
Most had already begun complaining.
Some were struggling under gravity they had chosen themselves.
Others had given up almost immediately.
Without another word, she turned away and began walking toward the chambers occupied by the academy’s highest-ranked freshmen.
“…Pathetic,” she murmured, barely above a whisper.
Inside his own chamber, Dylan sat cross-legged on the floor, resting his cheek against one hand.
“…One.”
“…Two.”
“…Three.”
Right on cue.
“She’s definitely going to call the students pathetic,” Dylan said, letting out a quiet sigh.
To most people, Diana Everhart was the embodiment of beauty and elegance.
To Dylan, she was also one of the harshest instructors in the entire academy.
As someone who had reached the pinnacle of talent at an age most Awakeners could only dream of, she had little patience for excuses, laziness, or complacency.
In her eyes…
Talent without diligence was wasted.
Diligence without conviction rarely lasted.
Students who possessed neither simply failed to earn her attention.
Everyone in the academy knows that Professor Diana Evarhart has notoriously stringent standards.
But what most students don’t know is…
The reason Diana Everhart held such dauntingly high standards wasn’t because of arrogance.
“It was trauma.” Dylan muttered, leaning against the chamber wall.
Everything traced back to the Great Crimson Rift Catastrophe, the disaster that transformed her into the Awakener the world would one day fear as the Infernal Witch.
Long before that day she hadn’t even been an Everhart, she had been born Diana Smith, the daughter of an ordinary family.
Everything changed the day her Potential was measured.
S-Grade.
The result was enough to change her fate forever.
Unable to refuse the astronomical sum offered to them, her parents sold her adoption rights to the prestigious Everhart Family, one of humanity’s most influential Awakener clans.
Within the Everhart household, Diana excelled at everything she touched.
There was only one person who treated her as family instead of an investment.
Juliana Everhart.
The biological daughter of the family head.
Unlike Diana, Juliana awakened with only D-Rank Potential.
To the Everhart patriarch that single letter was enough to determine her worth.
When Juliana’s results were announced, he cast her aside without hesitation.
Diana argued.
She pleaded.
She even openly defied the family head.
None of it mattered.
Juliana was disowned. Find the original chapter at g.com.
The event left a wound Diana never truly recovered from.
For months, she isolated herself from the world, refusing dungeon expeditions and neglecting the very training that had once defined her.
Then a letter arrived from Juliana that brought relief to Diana.
In the letter, Juliana told Diana that she had joined a modest Bronze-ranked guild called Taurus, where she was living a peaceful life.
The two began exchanging letters in secret, rebuilding the bond distance had failed to break.
Eventually the Everhart patriarch discovered the correspondence.
Rather than forbid it outright he devised something far crueler.
When the Great Crimson Rift appeared, he arranged for the Everhart Guild and the Taurus Guild to participate in the same subjugation operation.
To Diana, it felt like a miracle.
After so long apart, she would finally see Juliana again and thus she accepted the expedition without hesitation.
For a while everything proceeded according to plan.
Then the impossible happened a second Rift erupted nearby.
An unprecedented surge of mana flooded into the battlefield, causing the original dungeon to mutate beyond every prediction.
Within moments order collapsed.
The operation descended into absolute hell.
Diana watched helplessly as veteran Awakeners fell one after another.
Then she saw Juliana die.
Not long after nearly every participating Awakener had been wiped out.
Something inside Diana shattered.
The infernal flames she unleashed that day consumed countless monsters, reducing the battlefield to a sea of crimson fire.
When the catastrophe finally ended the system bestowed upon her a title.
Infernal Witch.
She returned alive.
Juliana did not.
Consumed by grief and rage, Diana confronted the Everhart patriarch.
The battle ended with his death.
The Bureau of Authority erased every trace of the incident before it could become public knowledge, preserving the Everhart family’s reputation for the sake of political stability.
As he lay dying the family head left Diana with words she would never forget.
«”Talent without diligence is wasted.
Diligence without conviction never lasts.”»
They had once been the philosophy of a ruthless man.
After the Crimson Rift they became Diana’s own.
She never forgave him nevertheless she never forgot those words either.
To Diana, weakness was not merely unfortunate.
Weakness got people killed.
She had watched it happen.
She had lived through it.
That was why she had no patience for excuses.
No tolerance for complacency.
Yet despite her unforgiving standards, she would give everything she had to any student willing to struggle and improve.
If a student genuinely wished to improve, no matter how untalented they were, she would dedicate every ounce of her knowledge to helping them grow.
She had no interest in teaching those who refused to try.
But those willing to struggle would never find a better mentor.
That duality was precisely why the students both feared and adored her.
“Whatever,” Dylan muttered under his breath, not sparing another second to dwell on it.
“I don’t have time to waste here.”
With a quiet mental prompt, he whispered, “Status.”
Instantly, a soft, cobalt interface materialized out of thin air, casting a gentle glow across his face.
Name: Dylan Harrow
Age: 17
Race: Human
Hunter Rank: F-Rank
Potential: C-Rank
Path: Swordsmanship
Mastery Realm: Initiate
Titles:
None
Parameters
Strength: F-
Agility: E+
Stamina: E+
Intelligence: E-
Spirit: F
Mana Capacity: G
Mana Circulation: F
Mana Meridians: E-
Luck: G-
Charisma: D
He clicked his tongue in dissatisfication.
“…Tsk.”
The only improvement was his Stamina, which had barely climbed from E to E+ after everything he’d gone through.
Everything else unchanged, yet he couldn’t even bring himself to complain.
After all no one was responsible for his lack of progress except himself.
Even the stamina parameter grew only because of the journey through Ashveil Summit, which had pushed his body harder than anything else he’d experienced since arriving in this world.
Without it, even that tiny increase probably wouldn’t have happened.
The Ashveil Summit had rewarded him well, granting him a growth-type armament and an SSS-grade combat scripture.
And now, it turned out to have indirectly boosted his stamina, too.
Dylan then closed the status window.
“…I still haven’t figured out how to change my Potential beyond C-Rank.” Dylan let out a quiet sigh before dismissing the thought.
“One problem at a time. That one’s for another day.”
What Dylan had learned after entering this world was simple: knowing something didn’t mean he could do it.
Knowledge was undoubtedly a source of strength but on its own, it was never enough.
Even though he possessed a Unique Skill capable of copying the abilities of others, it meant very little if he couldn’t use it properly.
His mana reserves were far too limited to support it, and his body was too weak to withstand the burden.
As things stood, forcing its use would only invite severe side effects.
In his current state, his body simply wasn’t capable of making proper use of everything he had gathered.
Whether it was his Unique Skill, his armament, or his Combat Scripture, they were all beyond what his body could handle.
The Nine Bends Flowing River Sword Art demanded absolute control over one’s body, mana, and breathing.
In his current condition forget the Second Form.
He couldn’t even execute the First Form without risking serious injury.
Trying to force it now would accomplish nothing except tearing apart muscles that were far too weak to handle the strain.
“…Getting stronger isn’t about collecting powerful techniques.”
“It’s about becoming someone capable of using them.”
A slow breath escaped his lips
“Then I’ll start from the beginning.”
Kalen’s words had affected him more than he’d expected.
For the first time since arriving in this world, Dylan truly accepted that strength wasn’t something that could be attained overnight.
No amount of knowledge could replace time, discipline, and consistent effort.
Unlike Ethan Walker, who possessed the Player System and could rapidly grow stronger by overcoming adversity, Dylan had no such advantage.
All he had was the knowledge he’d carried over from his previous life.
“…I can’t train like that damn protagonist,” Dylan muttered with a self-deprecating smile.
“So, I’ll start with Body Tempering.”
Body Tempering was one of the most fundamental cultivation techniques.
Rather than focusing on combat, it emphasized refining one’s mana circulation and strengthening the mana meridians.
As those internal pathways gradually became more resilient and efficient, the body itself was naturally tempered, becoming stronger and better suited to withstand greater amounts of mana.
Instead of drawing his sword, Dylan slowly closed his eyes and steadied his breathing.
With each measured breath, mana began flowing through his meridians in a smooth, rhythmic cycle, spreading from his Mana Core to every corner of his body before returning once more.
Outside the Gravity Chambers, Professor Diana walked calmly between the rows of transparent rooms, her sapphire-blue eyes quietly observing each student.
Most had begun showing signs of fatigue.
Some struggled to maintain proper posture beneath the increasing gravity.
Others swung their weapons recklessly, wasting both stamina and mana in an attempt to impress no one but themselves.
Then one chamber drew her attention.
A young man with radiant golden hair stood at its center, a katana resting loosely in his hand.
Ethan Walker.
His blade moved, smooth, weightless and Elegant.
Rather than overwhelming power, every swing possessed remarkable precision.
His footwork flowed naturally into each strike, the blade tracing graceful arcs through the air with almost artistic beauty.
Watching him felt less like observing sword practice…
And more like witnessing a butterfly dancing through a spring breeze.
“…Beautiful,” Diana murmured almost unconsciously.
It was far from perfect there were obvious flaws, movements that lacked experience.
Transitions that were still immature.
Yet beneath those imperfections lay extraordinary talent.
Not talent that had reached its peak but talent waiting to bloom.
The chamber next to Ethan belonged to Leonard Caesar.
His sword struck with ruthless precision, every movement sharp and efficient, devoid of unnecessary flourish.
“…As expected.” Diana muttered sparing him a brief glance before continuing.
Her gaze shifted to another chamber.
Megha Roy.
Unlike Ethan’s elegant swordsmanship, Megha focused on unwavering discipline.
Megha’s accuracy was exceptional, her arrows never missed the target.
She trained without the slightest distraction, completely absorbed in correcting even the smallest imperfections.
A faint nod escaped Diana.
“Excellent fundamentals.”
She continued walking.
The next chamber crackled with brilliant blue lightning.
Kalen Barthalemou laughed as arcs of electricity danced across his forearms, weaving naturally around his movements as though the lightning itself enjoyed following him.
Despite his carefree personality his control was exceptional.
“…Just like Vincent,” Diana thought, watching the lightning coil effortlessly around his limbs.
The resemblance was unmistakable.
Finally, she stopped before another chamber.
A silver-haired elf stood silently with a slender sword in hand.
Clarice Ventrova.
There was no unnecessary movement, no wasted motion, each swing was quiet.
Measured.
Perfectly balanced.
Her sword seemed to glide rather than cut, flowing continuously from one form into the next with an elegance refined over countless years.
It was beautiful.
Beautiful enough that even Diana found herself watching several movements longer than intended.
“…The swordsmanship of the elves…” she whispered.
“No wonder it’s still regarded as one of the greatest styles in the world.”
A small smile appeared on her face.
“This year’s first-years…”
“…might be extraordinary after all.”
Leaving the academy’s highest-ranked freshmen behind, Diana resumed her slow walk through the remaining Gravity Chambers.
Most students were either forcing themselves through repetitive exercises or struggling simply to remain standing.
Then one chamber caught her attention.
Dylan Harrow.
Instead of swinging a weapon or performing physical drills, he sat cross-legged in the center of the chamber with his eyes closed.
The gravity indicator above the transparent chamber read: 1.2×
Diana’s brows knitted together ever so slightly.
“…Meditating?”
On the very first practical lesson.
At only 1.2 times gravity.
To anyone else, it might have looked as though he was taking the easy route while everyone around him pushed their bodies to the limit.
“…Pretentious,” she thought.
Her gaze lingered for another moment, intending to move on.
Then she noticed it.
His breathing, slow, steady.
Perfectly rhythmic.
More importantly the mana surrounding him wasn’t dispersing aimlessly.
It flowed through his body in deliberate cycles, circulating from his Mana Core through his meridians before returning again, each circuit smoother than the last.
“…Body Tempering.”
Recognition flickered across her eyes.
He wasn’t avoiding training.
He was strengthening the foundation that every Awakener relied upon but so few had the patience to cultivate properly.
His movements were invisible to ordinary students, but to Diana the subtle refinement of his mana pathways was unmistakable.
“…Not bad.” She said, with a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Without another word, she continued walking.
Though for the first time that morning the name Dylan Harrow remained quietly in the back of her mind.
Thanks so much for reading!
Just a heads-up updates will be less frequent going forward since my college schedule is picking up.
I hope you understand, and I really appreciate you sticking with the story.