Arthur had a smile on his face as he tinkered with a black pouch adorned with an insignia—a horse with flames for eyes.
"A storage item!"
He didn't understand how it worked, but when he looked inside, it appeared dark, as if nothing was in there. The moment he reached in, however, something clicked—images of the items inside flashed into his mind. The space wasn't large, barely the size of a car trunk, but what he found inside made his smile widen.
"158 spirit stones, a dagger, some clothes, and a few books and tokens!"
He quickly scanned through the items, threw the clothes aside without hesitation, and began flipping through the books.
"A total of three books: the first one is Basic Herbology, the second is Basic Guide to Magical Artifacts, and last but not least, Orion's Basic Apprentice Meditation Technique."
Arthur's grin brightened. Although the herbology book wasn't useful to him right now, the guide and meditation manual were exactly what he needed.
"Too bad this place isn't safe to go through them… but I should have enough time once I'm in the academy."
He eyed the pouch thoughtfully, then nodded.
"I'm not sure if with the insignia on it, they can figure out I killed her or not... especially when I don't know if my plan even worked. I hung her from a tree, cut her wrists, and ran. As fast as I could, that should cover the cause of death and the distance, hopefully. I'm not even that far from the light pillar anymore…"
He transferred the 68 spirit stones from his own pouch. Luckily, spirit stones were pebble-sized—so the storage pouch still had some space left.
"226 spirit stones in total now. That should be enough."
***
"Congratulations, everyone!!"
Arthur had reached the end. He looked around as a large group of apprentices gathered within the glowing light circle. Unfortunately, he didn't encounter the group that had attacked him on the ship, and he didn't bother looking for them—too many people were around.
"For your success, a small reward will be provided by your respective academies. Please proceed to the camps displaying the insignia matching your academy tokens. There, you may receive your rewards and exchange any extra tokens for a reward. Good luck to you all!"
The bearded man finished his announcement and turned to leave.
'I don't know if those kids are from the same academy as me or not, but the trio responsible for this mess are. I'll find a way to repay their generosity…'
Arthur moved toward a camp bearing a banner with the image of a serpent's head—its pupils eerily dark.
The process was smoother than expected. Rows of tables were staffed by what appeared to be low-level apprentices in gray robes, each bearing the academy's insignia on the right chest. Some had a single vertical line running beneath the insignia; others had two.
"They look middle-aged... Some even seem to be in their fifties. Why are they still working for the academy?" he muttered.
"Simple," a boy next to him responded cheerfully. "The academy offers ideal cultivation conditions, resources, and good pay. Some haven't given up hope, others have simply built their lives in the academy's city."
The blond boy offered his hand.
"Jacob. Nice to meet you."
Arthur raised an eyebrow but shook it.
"Arthur," he replied. "Is it really that hard to break through each realm? It's just the Apprentice realm."
Jacob laughed.
"Fifty percent of these new apprentices might barely even break into the first realm, let alone the second or third. The Wizarding path is nothing like the Knight path. Even the weakest second-realm apprentice can overpower a knight without effort."
He looked around, nodding toward some distant tents.
"You see the escort wizards? The ones that make kings bow and grand knights tremble? They're not even official wizards. They're third-realm apprentices."
"What?" Arthur blinked, stunned. To him, the escort wizards had seemed godlike.
Jacob leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
"Here's a favor. Listen closely—just a drop of your blood, or even something that belonged to you, is enough to kill you. Curses, tracking spells, assassination spells—trust no one. Even inside the academy, people die under mysterious circumstances. The law enforcers are powerless."
Arthur's body stiffened. He quickly tucked the pouch and books deeper inside his armor and coat.
'Her family don't even need to enter the academy… Just getting their hands on something that belonged to me… and I'm dead.'
He glanced sideways at Jacob.
"Alright. You did me a favor. I'll do you one back."
"What is it?" Jacob asked, cautiously.
"You're a noble, aren't you? Or used to be back in the old continent. I'm guessing you know who I am, or at least heard of me. That's why you're trying to get close."
"What are you talking about?" Jacob frowned. "I am a noble, yes, but what does that have to do with—"
"I saw you. Someone pointed me out, and then you made your way toward me slowly, walking beside me for a while before starting a conversation." Arthur glanced over his shoulder. Several people flinched under his gaze. "You're trying to get close. That's fine. In return, here's my offer. Fin, his friends, and the group that attacked me on the ship—kill them. Then hand over 100 spirit stones. I'll let the matter go."
Jacob went silent, stunned.
'He's dangerous. Smart. Too cautious. That ring on his finger, it looks like a magical artifact— he's fought someone with a wizard background and won!' Jacob concluded
His thoughts were quick and cold. Then he nodded.
"Gon's group isn't part of our academy—I won't be able to do anything about them. But as for Fin and the others… they're already dead."
"They are?"
"They were cowards. During the trials, we found each other thanks to a small device I bought from the escort wizards. But every time we fought, they hid. Made mistakes. Nearly got us all killed. We left them behind. I never saw them die, but they didn't make it to the beacon from the direction we came, so either they're dead or disqualified."
Arthur considered it, then nodded again.
"Alright. You seem smart enough. Then hand over 300 spirit stones, and we'll call it even."
"Three hundred?! We don't have that many even combined! I can give you 100 for now, and pay the rest later."
Arthur shrugged.
"That'll do. For now."
He knew he wouldn't be getting the rest anytime soon. And after learning that Gon's group wasn't from the same academy, and Fin's group was most likely dead or disqualified, his rage had cooled slightly.
'I'll let them think I've let it go… Later, I'll settle it properly.'
Jacob handed over the pouch. Arthur placed it next to his other one in his armor, to not arouse suspicions with the storage pouch, he didn't bring it out. After waiting for a bit, he approached an empty table, ignoring Jacob and the nobles behind him.
"Hello, sir," Arthur greeted respectfully, eyeing the man's insignia and the two lines beneath it.
"Hello, kid." The man nodded and took his tokens. "Your hunt went well. Give me a moment."
He took out 80 spirit stones from his pouch and slid them forward along with a slip of paper.
"You had 8 tokens—10 spirit stones per token. Also, for reaching the beacon in time, you get this: a ticket for a free level-0 spell. Redeem it at the academy's exchange hall. Keep it safe."
"Thank you, sir."
Arthur pocketed his reward and made his way to the road where rows of carriages waited. Some were already full and moving. Others still waited to fill remaining seats. He climbed into one. Thirty minutes later, it departed.
The beasts pulling the carriage were like centaurs, but their upper halves resembled reptiles rather than humans. The carriage didn't shake. The seat was padded, almost luxurious. Outside the window, the landscape began to blur as their speed increased immensely.
The others remained quiet. Some were bandaged, others visibly shaken. Arthur didn't care. He leaned against the side, eyes fixed on the view outside.
He saw odd-looking herbs growing out the sides of the road, and giant trees so tall they blotted out the sun. Birds and animals unlike anything he had ever seen chirped and moved around with strange, almost intelligent behaviors. It looked magical. The colors were vibrant, the air thick with life, and every breath tasted like something ancient and untouched.
But as the hours ticked by, the forest began to change. The lively green turned darker, less welcoming. The trees seemed older, twisted, and watchful. The grass lost its luster. Birds stopped singing, and animals were no longer seen. Once, he spotted a lone bird fluttering past the carriage, only for something unseen to lash out from a branch and snatch it from the air without a sound. Arthur flinched, but he couldn't see what it was.
"Do not look into the forest for too long," warned one of the two apprentices at the front, who had been guiding the Centaurs. His voice was low, serious. "Those things might look back at you... take interest... and remember you."
"Ye... yes, sir," the apprentices answered, Arthur among them. He swallowed hard, disturbed by the weight of the statement. The forest felt predatory, aware. He looked away and kept his gaze fixed on the sky, even as it grew overcast and gray.
Two days passed. The carriage only stopped a few times—mostly to give the Centaurs quick breaks or distribute food and water to the passengers. The ride was surprisingly comfortable. The inside of the carriage was large enough for them to sit and sleep without trouble, and the apprentices managing it provided meals at regular intervals.
At some point on the third day, the carriage began to slow. The blur of trees turned still, and Arthur, roused from a half-sleep, looked around. Before them stood a towering mountain, ancient and covered in a blanket of trees and creeping moss. Mist coiled around the base like it was breathing.
"Everyone step off. We've arrived," one of the apprentices said.
They dismounted. The carriage drivers didn't explain anything further and simply began walking toward the base of the mountain, vanishing between gnarled roots and stone.
Arthur and the rest, confused but curious, followed.
They had barely walked ten paces before someone gasped behind them.
"It's gone!" shouted one of the apprentices, pointing back.
Arthur turned. The carriage and the Centaurs had vanished—completely. No hoofprints. No wheels. Not even disturbed grass. Just an empty forest.
Unease prickled the back of Arthur's neck, but the others began moving again, so he followed.
They approached what looked like a dead end: a flat rock wall at the base of the mountain. Vines draped over it like veins, and small white flowers bloomed in narrow cracks, glowing faintly.
One of the apprentices stepped forward and placed their hand against the stone, whispering something Arthur couldn't hear. The mountain groaned.
The vines began to twist, slithering upward like snakes awakening from slumber. The air became still. A low hum filled the air—deep, resonant, unnatural.
Then, something pulled. Not from in front of them, but from inside their minds. Arthur blinked, dizzy. It felt like the world had momentarily inverted, like the mountain had looked at him and decided to allow his presence.
The vines shifted, revealing a large circular opening. Fog poured out, glowing with a bluish tint. Within it stood an impossibly tall archway etched with faint, shifting inscriptions. The air was still. Cold.
Silhouettes emerged from the mist—tall, robed figures, motionless yet impossibly present. They didn't walk. They glided, soundless, robes trailing behind as if untouched by gravity. Their faces were hidden beneath deep hoods, but their presence pressed against the minds of everyone watching, like something standing just beyond the veil of comprehension.
Arthur felt his breath catch. One of the guiding apprentices looked back at them, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Don't stare at them too long. They're the… gate sentinels. Or guardians. Or something." He paused, glancing warily at the silent figures. "We don't really know. No one talks to them. They've been here longer than any of us."
The group fell into silence as they walked past the sentinels. One of them turned ever so slightly as Arthur passed, and for a moment, he felt like something ancient had marked him, as though a seed had been planted in the back of his mind. He dared not look again.
The air grew heavier. The mist thickened, clinging to their skin like static. The deeper they walked, the less sound there was—no footsteps, no breath, only the low hum that seemed to vibrate in their bones.
And then it stopped.
Just like that.
The mist broke.
Arthur blinked.
The forest was gone.
They stood at the edge of a low rise in utter stillness, the air thin and cold, as though holding its breath.
Below stretched a city—broad, quiet, and unsettlingly pristine. Roads of smooth obsidian stone cut clean paths through clusters of pale buildings with dark slate roofs. The layout was precise, almost surgical—sharp angles, mirrored symmetry, and a sense of order that bordered on unnatural. There was no smoke curling from chimneys, no clatter of carts, no bustle. Only motion, slow and exact.
Figures walked here and there, measured and silent. Some wore long coats or flowing robes, others dressed in simple uniforms of muted color. No animals. No carriages. No shouting or hawking. Only the whisper of fabric and footfall, swallowed quickly by the ever-present breeze.
"This is Lirae," one of the apprentices murmured, as though speaking louder might disrupt the balance of the place.
"Noctis Arcanum lies beyond."
A whisper drifted past them on the wind—thin, unintelligible. One apprentice shifted slightly, sensing more than hearing.
"There were others," he said. "Two groups. Escorted by their guides. They passed through before us."
He pointed toward a winding road at the base of the hill. Fresh footprints marred the thin layer of dust—still crisp, still undisturbed by time or wind.
Arthur's gaze followed the path, just in time to glimpse distant figures vanishing around a corner. Children, like them, accompanied by robed escorts. No voices. No gestures. Just silhouettes dissolving into the cityscape.
They all stood there, frozen in quiet contemplation.
Arthur turned. His chest tightened.
The entrance behind them—gone. Where the forest path once stood was now just a shallow cave of stone, jagged and empty. The world had shifted. There was no transition. No sound. No light. Just was—and then was not.
"We didn't walk here," someone muttered.
"No," the other apprentice said softly. "We passed through what they call a gate!" he explained. "Don't ask any more, even we don't know what it is exactly"
The group of kids kept looking around, the guides waited for them to finish, as they remembered their first time here as well.
Far in the distance, rising above the city like a beacon of the arcane, stood Noctis Arcanum Academy.
It was not a castle.
It was a structure born of a different logic—geometric, tiered like colossal steps of polished onyx and silver. Each platform floated just above the next, defying gravity, suspended by invisible forces. Pale veins of light pulsed through its form, like the living circuits of some great machine. And at its peak hovered a vast circular platform encased in a translucent dome, stars shimmering and shifting across its surface like reflections in deep water.
It looked summoned, not built. A construct anchored to this world by ritual and force of will.
Arthur felt its weight—not on his shoulders, but in his soul. A presence that made him shiver.
A chill ran down his spine. Not fear.
He had arrived.