BANG.
The heavy wooden door of the barracks room flew open, slamming violently against the stone wall.
“What the hell, man!
We’re sleeping!” Jahek shrieked, instantly jumping up from his cot, his blanket tangled around his ankles as he glared at the doorway with wide, bloodshot eyes.
Zaiden stood in the threshold, his arms crossed over his chest, his half-white, half-black hair perfectly neat despite the early hour.
“I’ve been knocking for hours already,” the captain stated flatly.
In truth, he had only been standing outside for about sixty seconds, but Zaiden possessed a notoriously short fuse when it came to waiting for anything, preferring to force his way in rather than waste another breath.
Jahek blinked at the high window, realizing the sun was already baking the courtyard.
“Oh god, it’s almost noon.
I have some errands Xan asked me to do before the shift.” Without missing a beat, Zaiden marched past Jahek’s cot, grabbed the edge of Ambo’s heavy wool blanket, and violently ripped it away.
Ambo, who was an incredibly deep sleeper, rolled completely off the mattress from the sudden movement, landing hard on the cold stone floor with a muffled groan.
“Wakey wakey, morning sunshine,” Zaiden said, his voice entirely devoid of actual warmth.
“We have another training session today.
We really need your Astral manipulation improved if you’re going to fight back against the Gen Z out in the open.
Quick change and meet me at the practice area.” Ambo scrambled to his feet, rubbing his sore shoulder.
He quickly threw on his Culler vest, buckled his boots, and sprinted through the corridors, not wanting to test the captain’s short patience any further.
When he arrived at the dusty, isolated western practice court, Zaiden was already waiting, tossing a blunt wooden training sword from hand to hand.
The captain stopped when Ambo entered, his heavy gaze narrowing.
“Before we swing,” Zaiden said, leaning against a stone pillar.
“Tell me about yesterday.
The thing that covered your body when Leeroy cornered you.” Ambo slowed his pace, looking down at his palms.
He chose to explain it as casually and honestly as he could based on what he actually knew.
“I can’t control it, Captain.
I don’t know how to force it out on command.
It just…
it came out on its own when I was cornered, like a survival reflex.
But I think if I focus more, I might be able to figure out the thread to drag it back out.” Zaiden nodded slowly, absorbing the answer without pushing further.
An absolute void of Astral light, yet it mimics a Kwarta-tier physical shroud, the captain thought to himself, the riddle of the boy growing heavier in his mind.
There is still a massive, dangerous amount of mystery locked inside this kid.
He tossed a second wooden sword straight at Ambo’s chest.
Ambo caught it clumsily.
“Then let’s see if we can find that thread,” Zaiden commanded.
“Engage.” For the next few hours, the courtyard was alive with the sound of cracking wood and heavy breathing.
Zaiden didn’t use his elements or his heavy aura, but his raw physical speed was relentless, forcing Ambo to dodge, block, and stumble across the dirt just to keep from getting bruised.
“Ambo!
Hey, rookie!” The heavy iron gates of the practice court groaned open, and Jahek stepped through, wiping sweat from his own brow after finishing his errands.
He jogged up to the duo, looking directly at Ambo.
“Xan needs to meet you in her office right now.
It’s regarding your registration process.” Ambo dropped his wooden sword, his chest heaving as he followed Jahek out of the courtyard and back toward the central hall.
As they navigated the torch-lit corridors, Jahek bumped his shoulder against Ambo’s, his usual talkative, energetic persona fully returning.
“So, here’s the breakdown, buddy.
Your official registration is scheduled for tomorrow’s afternoon.
Don’t sweat it too much—it’s just a simple, single mock battle against a random guild member.
Whether you actually defeat them or get your ass handed to you doesn’t matter at all to the high-ups.” Jahek held up his fingers, mapping out the logic.
“All that matters is how you perform using your abilities.
The instructors are just going to assess your reflexes, your stamina, and whether you classify as a Segonda element or a Premera user.
As for me?
Well, my official file says I’m a Sentinel rank.
I didn’t perform well during my mock match back then.
But my raw Astral energy signature can technically be considered Segonda tier—I just chose not to use it during the test.
It’s called a tactical strategy of low expectations.” Ambo let out a quiet chuckle.
“Sure it is, Jahek.” They reached the heavy wooden doors of the command center and stepped inside.
Xan was sitting behind her desk, a stack of blank parchment sheets and an official Culler registry ledger spread out before her.
“Sit down, Ambo,” Xan said, her tone sharp and business-like.
She dipped a quill into her inkwell, filling in the preliminary details exactly as Jahek had described.
“Your assessment will take place in the Pit tomorrow’s afternoon.
Standard protocol dictates that the registry selectors assign a random low-ranking Vanguard or Sentinel to test your capabilities.” Xan paused, her hand freezing over the paper.
She looked up, a dangerous, cold gleam flashing across her eyes that made both Jahek and Ambo instantly freeze.
“But we are not dealing with standard protocols anymore,” Xan murmured, a malicious smile twisting her lips.
“I am personally choosing your opponent for this mock battle.
I have already drafted the mandate.” Ambo tilted his head.
“Who is it?” Xan leaned forward, tapping the desk with her quill.
“I am matching you against Leeroy Jenkins.” The room fell into an absolute, suffocating silence.
Jahek and Ambo both went entirely rigid, their jaws dropping in utter, paralyzed shock as the gravity of the cliffhanger settled into the room.