The golden-spire city of Aethelgard rose against the autumn sky like a monument carved from solid sunlight.
As the heavy wooden wheels of the royal carriage rattled along the polished marble highway, Kaelen Ashford looked out the glass window, taking in the suffocating splendor of the High Capital. Towering aqueducts of white stone arched over pristine canals; floating mana spires hummed with soft blue light, stabilizing the weather above the city; and far in the distance, perched atop the highest cliff in the realm, stood the colossal ivory citadel of the Royal Summoner Academy.
It was a world away from Oakhaven.
There were no smog-choked alleys here, no stench of damp beast stables or coal dust rising from the docks. In Aethelgard, even the cobblestones seemed scrubbed clean, and the citizens walked in robes of dyed silk and silver-embroidered velvet, accompanied by sleek, high-grade mana beasts that trotted proudly alongside their masters.
Beside Kaelen on the cushioned leather seat, Nox lay curled into a silent, shadowy ring. To any passing observer, the creature looked like nothing more than an unusually sleek, black-furred house cat sleeping peacefully. None of the guards at the capital gates, nor the wealthy merchants along the avenue, could perceive the dark, light-devouring aura swirling beneath its fur.
Under the cover of Void Shroud II, Nox’s true nature as an Ancestral Primal Void-Stalker—a legendary dragon-hunter boasting a True Combat Rating of 770—was completely invisible.
At Kaelen’s left wrist, concealed beneath the frayed cuff of his linen sleeve, a cool, smooth coil shifted slightly. The Ancient Jade Sky-Serpent, a Calamity-Grade beast from the era before dragons with a True Combat Rating of 3,200, rested comfortably like an emerald bracelet, its slit pupils gleaming with ancient intelligence.
Master... this city smells of stagnant magic and weak beasts, Nox’s voice echoed directly into Kaelen’s mind through the Primitive Mental Mesh. The creatures walking these streets are soft. Their bloodlines are diluted.
That is because the Architects locked away their ancestral memories, Kaelen replied silently, stroking Nox’s soft fur. They only know what the System allows them to see.
The carriage slowed to a halt before a set of towering wrought-iron gates adorned with the crest of a winged dragon coiled around a glowing staff.
"We have arrived at the Grand Entrance, Candidate Ashford," the royal driver called out from the box, his tone clipped and formal. "This is as far as transport vehicles are permitted. You must proceed on foot to the Registration Pavilion."
"Thank you," Kaelen said calmly. He picked up his canvas pack, stepped down onto the marble plaza, and looked up at the majestic entrance of the Royal Summoner Academy.
The plaza was teeming with hundreds of newly arrived candidates and returning upperclassmen. Aristocratic youths from across the seven provinces of Solis gathered in distinct groups, surrounded by personal attendants, tutors, and bodyguards. Elegant carriages bearing noble crests unloaded young men in tailored doublets and young women in enchanted riding dresses.
Around them, magnificent beasts preened and growled, displaying their lineage to the admiring crowd.
A young lord from the Western Marches stood beside a majestic Frost Griffin whose feathers shone like spun ice, boasting a Silver-Grade rating of 180. A noble heiress from the Southern Duchy walked with a pair of Flame-Spotted Leopards, their fur crackling with orange embers. Near the grand fountain, a group of senior students laughed while feeding strips of dried meat to a juvenile Armored Drake whose crimson scales glistened under the sun.
Kaelen adjusted his shoulder strap and walked toward the registration lines.
He wore his simple dark tunic and patched leather trousers—the cleanest clothes he owned, but hopelessly out of place amidst the sea of silk, velvet, and mithril-woven cloaks.
As he walked, eyes began to turn toward him.
"Look at that one... is he a servant?" a noble girl whispered behind her silk fan, eyeing Kaelen's worn boots.
"Servant? Look at his collar—he doesn't have a noble badge," her companion chuckled softly. "He must be one of the bursary commoners from the outer territories. I heard the Academy accepts a handful of charity cases each year to satisfy the King's decree."
"Charity cases? Look at what he's carrying!" another student snickered, pointing at Nox trotting quietly at Kaelen's heels. "Is that a cat? Did he bring a stray alley pest to the Royal Academy?"
Amused chuckles ripples through the nearby crowd. Kaelen kept his gaze fixed ahead, his expression a wall of calm unreadability. He had endured years of verbal abuse in the Iron Docks; the superficial sneers of spoiled aristocrats were like raindrops bouncing off granite.
He joined the shortest queue before the main registration pavilion, where three senior proctors in violet robes sat behind long oak desks, reviewing candidate credentials and operating the Master Evaluation Crystal.
Standing in front of Kaelen in line was a tall youth with slicked-back blonde hair, wearing a crimson cloak embroidered with gold thread—Julian of House Vane, a cousin to Captain Vane whom Kaelen had defeated in Gloom Ravine. Beside Julian stood a fierce, bipedal Thunder Hound whose blue fur crackled with static electricity.
Julian stepped up to the desk, presenting his parchment credentials with a confident smirk.
"Candidate Julian Vane of House Vane," the senior proctor announced, placing Julian’s hand on the glowing crystal sphere at the center of the table.
The crystal flared with a bright amber light, casting a projection onto the large floating display board above the pavilion:
[ACADEMY REGISTRATION FILE] [NAME: JULIAN VANE] [ORIGIN: HIGH CAPITAL - HOUSE VANE] [CLASS: THUNDER SUMMONER] [REGISTERED SUMMON: THUNDER HOUND (GRADE: SILVER)] [COMBAT RATING: 210] [ACADEMY RANKING: 45 / 1,200]
"Impressive," the proctor nodded approvingly, handing Julian a polished silver student token. "A Combat Rating of two hundred ten places you in the Elite Class Tier, Master Vane. Proceed to the East Wing Dormitories."
"Thank you, Proctor," Julian preened, slipping the silver token into his pouch. He turned around, casting a disdainful glance at Kaelen standing behind him. Julian's eyes lingered on Kaelen’s worn tunic and the small black cat at his feet.
"Careful where you step, commoner," Julian sneered, pulling his velvet cloak back as if afraid Kaelen’s presence might stain it. "The Academy floor isn't for dirt-gatherers. Make sure your little rat doesn't shed on the marble."
Kaelen didn't answer. He simply stepped forward as Julian strutted away, placing his wooden referral letter from Overseer Malakor onto the proctor's desk.
The senior proctor picked up the letter, adjusting his spectacles as he read the seal. His eyebrows twitched in surprise. "Oakhaven? A direct recommendation from Overseer Malakor?"
The proctor looked up, examining Kaelen's face and humble attire with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. "Very well. Candidate Kaelen Ashford, place your palm flat against the Master Evaluation Crystal for verification."
Kaelen raised his right hand and pressed his palm against the cool, translucent surface of the crystal sphere.
Deep within his spiritual core, Kaelen felt the crystal's magical wave sweep over him, scanning his mana channels and the beasts bound to his soul. Immediately, Void Shroud II activated seamlessly, projecting the false data matrix Kaelen had configured.
The crystal shuddered. The ambient light around the table dimmed slightly, as if the device was struggling to process something anomalous, before emitting a dull, greyish pulse.
High above the pavilion, the floating projection display flickered to life, displaying Kaelen's evaluation in large, glowing runes for the entire courtyard to see:
[ACADEMY REGISTRATION FILE] [NAME: KAELEN ASHFORD] [ORIGIN: OAKHAVEN - IRON DOCKS] [CLASS: FAILED SUMMONER] [REGISTERED SUMMONS: 2] [SUMMON 1: UNKNOWN PEST (CR: 1)] [SUMMON 2: MINIATURE GREEN SERPENT (CR: 1)] [TOTAL COMBAT RATING: 2] [ACADEMY RANKING: 1,200 / 1,200 - LOWEST EVALUATION]
Silence fell over the immediate registration area.
For three seconds, no one spoke. The students, proctors, and noble guards all stared at the floating projection in utter disbelief.
Then, a sudden burst of laughter shattered the quiet.
"A Combat Rating of TWO?!" a student roared with laughter from the fountain. "Did I read that right? Two?!"
"Failed Summoner!" another mocked, slapping his knee. "He has TWO beasts and his total rating is two! That means each of his summons has a rating of ONE!"
"Hahaha! He brought a stray cat and a garden worm to the Royal Summoner Academy! Is this a joke?"
"How did someone like that even get an invitation? Did Overseer Malakor lose his mind in the southern fogs?"
Julian Vane stopped in his tracks, turning back to look at the display board. A malicious, triumphant grin spread across his face. "A CR 2 trash-tier... and he dares to stand in the same courtyard as House Vane! The Overseer must have sent him here as a festival clown!"
The senior proctor pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy, exasperated sigh. He stamped Kaelen’s file with a red ink seal and reached into a wooden drawer, pulling out a dull, iron-plated wooden token.
"Candidate Ashford," the proctor said, his voice completely devoid of warmth. "Your Combat Rating is the lowest ever recorded in the hundred-year history of the Royal Summoner Academy. By institutional regulation, you are assigned to the West Wing Annex."
He tossed the cheap wooden token onto the desk. "You will attend General Theory lectures with the auxiliary class. Do not enter the High-Tier Training Grounds or the Noble Quadrangle without explicit permission from a faculty professor. Understood?"
"Understood," Kaelen replied smoothly. He picked up the wooden token and slipped it into his tunic pocket.
Master... Nox’s voice growled in his mind, its golden eyes narrowing as it glared at the laughing students nearby. The yellow-haired fool with the static dog is babbling again. Allow me to sink my fangs into his spine. His blood will taste like sour copper.
Control yourself, Nox, Kaelen whispered mentally, feeling a subtle pulse of irritation from the Jade Sky-Serpent at his wrist as well. Let them laugh. A quiet hunter is a dangerous hunter. We didn't come to Aethelgard to win a popularity contest.
As you command, Master, Nox rumbled softly, melting back into Kaelen's shadow.
Kaelen turned away from the registration pavilion and walked toward the western perimeter of the campus, completely ignoring the mocking stares and pointing fingers that followed his every step.
"Look at him walk! He doesn't even look ashamed!" "The weakest student in history... he won't last three days when the ranking trials begin!"
Kaelen navigated through the sprawling grounds, passing magnificent marble lecture halls, glowing training arenas, and lush botanical gardens where high-grade beasts roamed freely.
The further west he walked, the grander architecture slowly faded. The polished marble gave way to cracked cobblestones, and the pristine white towers were replaced by older, moss-draped stone buildings that had seen decades of neglect.
Finally, he reached the West Wing Annex—a crumbling three-story stone dormitory standing at the very edge of the Academy grounds, bordering an ancient, overgrown forest enclosure.
The air here was quiet, away from the loud arrogance of the noble section.
Kaelen pushed open the heavy oak door of his assigned room on the second floor. The room was small and austere—a narrow wooden cot, a plain desk, a chair, and a single tall window overlooking the deep, dark valley behind the Academy.
Kaelen set his pack down on the table and unbuttoned his linen cuffs.
The Ancient Jade Sky-Serpent uncoiled from his wrist, gliding smoothly across the wooden desk before rearing its delicate head, its slit emerald eyes reflecting the afternoon light. Nox leapt up onto the cot, stretching its long, black-scaled body and yawning, revealing rows of razor-sharp void fangs.
Kaelen sat on the edge of the bed and summoned his translucent System panel.
[ANCIENT BESTIARY INTERFACE ACTIVE] [CURRENT LOCATION: ROYAL SUMMONER ACADEMY - WEST WING] [ENVIRONMENTAL SCAN IN PROGRESS...]
Lines of pale golden text swept across his field of vision as the System mapped the surrounding mana signatures.
[SUBTERRANEAN MANA RESONANCE DETECTED] [DEPTH: 120 METERS BENEATH ACADEMY MAIN TOWER] [IDENTIFIED STRUCTURE: IMPERIAL FOSSIL VAULT] [CONTAINMENT: 14,800 UNCATALOGED ANCIENT SPECIMENS] [ANCIENT GENETIC SIGNATURES DETECTED: 32 CALAMITY-GRADE / 12 PRIMAL-GRADE]
Kaelen’s eyes flared with a sudden, intense light.
Fourteen thousand uncataloged fossils... thirty-two Calamity-Grade genetic signatures sitting directly beneath the feet of the arrogant Academy professors who believed they knew everything about monster taming.
To the noble scions, the Royal Summoner Academy was a place to parade their wealthy mounts and secure political prestige.
To the professors, Kaelen Ashford was a pathetic Failed Summoner with a total Combat Rating of two.
But to Kaelen, this Academy was not a school.
It was an untouched goldmine of extinct power—and he held the only key in the world to unlock it.
A cold, razor-thin smile touched Kaelen’s lips as he looked out the window toward the central spires of the High Capital.
"Let them call me the weakest student," Kaelen whispered softly, stroking the smooth emerald scales of the sky-serpent as Nox purred quietly beside him. "The higher they build their towers, the harder they'll crumble when the extinct rise."