Fredozy
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Chapter 29: New program
🕑 Added 2025-10-06 10:04:15 +0000 UTCHis gaze swept the crowd.
The Arcanums from Caelora, proud and composed, gathered behind their leader, the tall blond Irian Veyl, who sneered openly at the Archetypes.
The Sigils from Gravenholt, tighter in number, rallied behind a lean boy with glyphs shifting across his throat Cairon Delth.
And the Regained Archetypes, those who had already tasted this academy's trials, stood silent, watching the newcomers with the eyes of wolves.
All these egos, all these paths colliding.
'When The Pit opens,' Riven thought, 'all of this will change. Pride and sneers won't matter when death is staring them down.'
His chest thudded once, heavy. For a split second he swore something crawled along his spine with heat. Beneath his shirt, the black tattoo shimmered faintly along his back, fading in and out with the rhythm of his heartbeat.
—————
The endurance yard was not what some of the students had expected except for the ones that have already been here waiting to graduate through the exams of course.
The entire area stretched wide, an expanse of hard-packed earth surrounded by stone walls that carried the faint shimmer of sigils embedded into them, other sections had mechanical structures humming with energy.
The space they currently all occupied smelled faintly of dust, a place already marked by the echo of countless drills. The sun was still climbing into the sky, its light stretching over the training grounds, cutting long shadows across the yard where the newly Awakened stood in uneven lines, each student wearing uncertainty on their face.
In front of them stood the three instructors that were smiling at there new Vict..students.
Dorian was the first to step forward, eyes sharp as flint, his voice carried with the weight of a soldier who was very much eager to get the show on the road and see some of them struggle.
"From this day forward," he began, his tone leaving no room for hesitation, "you will report here every morning. No excuses, no delays. This yard will be the place where you bleed, sweat, and break before you earn the right to stand as protectors of the Federation."
A ripple of unease passed through the crowd. The younger students straightened their posture, while the older ones clenched fists or exchanged uneasy glances.
Before they could think to murmur, Amira stepped in beside Dorian. Where he was iron, she was steel, colder and much sharper than the gentle woman they saw at the orientation. Her cloak shifted slightly as she folded her arms, her pale eyes scanning the lines with the precision of a blade.
"This," she said, gesturing to the space around them, "will not just be your training ground. It will also serve as your classroom. Here, you will learn the basics of survival, how to control your powers properly along with how to use them bettet, and most importantly, how to endure. You are not here to pass time. You are here to grow strong enough not only to survive yourselves… but to ensure the survival of the Federation itself."
Her words left a chill in the air, and for a heartbeat, none dared breathe.
Then Selvar strode forward, casual where the others were commanding. His lean frame moved with the ease of someone who never worried about outcomes. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he smirked, tilting his head as though amused by the tension.
"This yard," he said, voice smooth and laced with a mocking humor, "will be divided into three sectors, each one designed to test and mold a different power type. Archetypes with me. Arcanum with Dorian. Sigils with Amira."
The students shuffled, the old students nodding, others whispering in confusion. Selvar's smirk widened.
"But don't get too comfortable. Don't expect to always train with your own powertype."
That sent a stir through the group. Whispers erupted, questions muttered in low tones. "That doesn't make sense," one boy hissed under his breath. "How can they—"
Riven caught Kevan's eye, raising a brow. "So… instructors of different types are going to be training us, huh?"
Lynn, standing nearby, tilted her head thoughtfully. "Normally, it wouldn't make sense," she admitted softly. "But if you think about the merits and the flaws… it might actually help. It could prepare us for situations where our natural power types won't be enough."
Her words were sharp enough to catch the ears of those around her. A few turned toward her and nodded at the logic.
Amira's lips curved ever so slightly. "Oh? We've got a clever one among you." She sighed, shaking her head. "What a pity you're not an Arcanum."
Her tone was dismissive, though her eyes gleamed with interest.
Dorian let out a short laugh, breaking the heaviness. "A promising girl. And she's right." His voice grew heavier now, dragging the weight of his experiences into every syllable. "Out there, you will face Deviants unlike anything your minds can yet imagine. Creatures whose very nature will bend logic.
Some will not fall to a simple strike or a storm of fire. Some will be impervious to elemental forces. Against such beings, punching harder or burning brighter will do nothing. You will need another way of thinking… another angle to survive."
The stillness that followed was suffocating. Even the most arrogant students straightened at his words.
Dorian raised his hand slightly, as though painting the scenario in the air. "Imagine a Deviant impervious to flame, frost, or storm. Yet a single concussive strike with enough blunt force might shatter it. What then, when your training has taught you nothing but to wield fire or light? You would die, unprepared."
Murmurs spread again, but this time it was hushed and uneasy.
Amira's voice cut across like a blade. "That is why you must learn not to rely only on only your powertypes. Adaptation. Combination. Survival demands you wield knowledge on all front and not just an ability that will leave you defenseless when it can't come to your aid."
Selvar stepped in then, his smirk returning as though he enjoyed pulling the strings of their tension. "And that," he added, "is where things will get interesting."
From the crowd, a sharp voice broke the silence.
"This better not be a waste of my time."
All eyes turned to see who it was. It was Irian, his chin lifted in defiance with his arms folded.
Kyra, standing just behind him, scoffed loudly. "Spoken like someone who'll be the first to collapse." Her tone carried arrogance, sharp enough to draw a few chuckles.
Nelson rolled his eyes so hard it was audible. "Both of you should shut up. It's too early in the morning for this."
Irian ignored him, though his gaze lingered on a white haired girl at the far end of the line. Unlike the others, she hadn't reacted at all not to Dorian, not to Amira, not even to Selvar's taunts. Her eyes were fixed forward, unwavering, as though she was already somewhere far away. The fact that she gave him no attention at all made Irian scowl.
'Myra', Kyra's fraternal twin sister.
Before the tension could build further, the instructors split them into their groups to begin their new training program.
