ã€ŠThe Broken Starã€‹


 Chapter 0: Prologue

    War.

    They''ll tell you it''s about justice, about protecting your home, your family, your people. They''ll paint banners of honor and sing songs of glory, but in truth, war is nothing but ash and ruin, no matter which side you stand on.

    I used to believe in it¡ªthis idea of a "right side." I thought there were lines drawn in blood and steel that separated heroes from monsters. But when the fires fade and the smoke clears, the only thing left standing is regret.

    In war, there are no victors. Only survivors who carry the weight of what they''ve done. The flags you fought under, the ideals you bled for¡ªthey mean nothing when you''re staring at the bodies of those you couldn''t save. Your enemies, your allies, your loved ones... they all end up in the same grave.

    I see that now. I see the faces of the people I failed to protect, the lives I destroyed trying to justify my revenge. I fought to bring justice to a world drowning in chaos, but all I ever did was add more fuel to the fire.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    But war doesn''t just make corpses. It makes heroes.

    The world reveres them, casting them in bronze and gold, singing their names in eternal praise. But heroes are not born. There is no divine spark, no destiny etched into their souls. They are forged in silence, in moments no one else sees. They are shaped by failure, honed by the weight of choices too heavy for anyone else to carry.

    A hero isn''t fearless¡ªthey''re terrified and still take the next step. A hero isn''t unbreakable¡ªthey''re shattered and still pick up the pieces. The world demands perfection, but perfection is a lie. The truth is messy, filled with stumbles, missteps, and the kind of pain no one wants to acknowledge.

    If you''re reading this, then you already know the weight of that burden. Maybe you''ve felt it crush down on you, making it hard to breathe, hard to move forward. Maybe you think it''s impossible to rise again.

    But I''ll tell you this: being a hero isn''t about never falling. It''s about standing back up, no matter how many times you''re knocked down.

    The songs of glory won''t mention the nights you spent crying in the dark. The statues won''t show the scars etched into your soul. But none of that matters. What matters is the choice you make, here and now, to keep moving forward.

    Because even in a broken world, even with the odds stacked against you...

    Even you can be a hero.

 Chapter 1: Ashes on Fire 1

    The sharp clang of steel echoed across the battlefield, breaking the oppressive silence like a drum signaling war. Dust and sparks danced in the air as two figures collided with fierce precision, their swords locked in a struggle of raw determination.

    A young man, his jet-black hair clinging to his sweat-soaked forehead, gritted his teeth as he pushed against the weight of his opponent. His dark blue eyes burned with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the chaos around him. His black armor, marked with glowing blue veins that pulsed faintly, bore scars from countless battles, but he refused to falter.

    Across from him stood a golden-haired boy, his blue eyes clouded with exhaustion and conflict. Blood streaked down his cheek from a fresh cut, trailing onto his pristine silver armor, now dented and scratched from the unrelenting assault. Despite his battered state, his grip on his sword remained firm.

    Their blades clashed again, the force of the impact reverberating through the ground beneath them. The golden-haired boy stumbled back slightly, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. His voice carried both desperation and resolve.

    "Stop this, Ren!" he shouted, his chest heaving with exertion. "You don''t have to do this! It''s not too late to turn back!"

    The black-haired fighter pressed a hand to his side, where blood seeped through the seams of his armor. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned on his sword for a brief moment, his voice sharp and unyielding.

    "Get out of my way," he growled.

    The golden-haired boy took a shaky breath, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of his weapon. "I can''t let you cross this line. You''ll regret it."

    Ren straightened, dragging his blade from the ground with a slow, deliberate motion. His voice, though calm, carried the weight of his anguish.

    "That line was crossed the moment they took everything from me."

    The words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable. The golden-haired boy faltered, his resolve visibly shaken. Yet he raised his sword again, his voice quieter this time.

    "Then I''ll stop you, even if it kills me."

    Without hesitation, they charged at each other once more. The force of their collision sent shockwaves through the ground, the earth splintering beneath their feet. Dust swirled around them as they fought, their movements a desperate dance of steel and fury.

    Their battle was relentless, each swing of their blades a clash of ideals, a struggle for something far greater than themselves.

    ***

    Present Day - Command Center

    The bridge of the dreadnaught was a hive of controlled chaos. Rows of consoles hummed with life, manned by officers in sharp black uniforms, their faces illuminated by the glowing screens before them. The air was tense, punctuated by the low hum of the ship''s engines and the occasional barked order.

    At the center of it all stood Commander Darien Kane, a tall, broad-shouldered man with sharp features and a presence that demanded attention. His black uniform was immaculate, adorned with silver insignias denoting his rank. His cold gray eyes scanned the holographic display hovering above the central table¡ªa map of Earth with multiple red markers flashing near Sector 49.

    An officer turned from his station, his voice urgent but steady. "Commander Kane, the Rebels have breached our perimeter. They''re advancing on Sector 49 at an alarming rate."

    Kane''s jaw tightened as he studied the display. His tone was calm, yet carried the weight of authority. "What''s the closest military stronghold to Sector 49?"

    Another officer quickly tapped at his console, pulling up additional data. "The 49th Squadron is stationed near Baldur City, sir. They''re equipped for rapid deployment."

    "Send word to the 49th Squadron," Kane ordered, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Alert them to the situation and instruct them to prepare for engagement immediately. Evacuate the civilians from Baldur City and secure the perimeter."

    "Yes, sir," the officer replied, relaying the commands with swift precision.

    Kane''s gaze returned to the holographic map, his expression unreadable. The red markers were multiplying, a silent testament to the chaos spreading across the region.

    Another officer turned, his face pale. "Sir, reinforcements from the capital are still two hours out. If the Rebels overwhelm Sector 49 before then¡ª"The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    "They won''t," Kane interrupted, his tone icy. "We''ll hold the line until reinforcements arrive. Failure is not an option."

    The bridge fell silent, the weight of his words settling over the crew. Kane straightened, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the map.

    "War doesn''t wait for readiness," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. "And neither will we."

    The officers exchanged brief glances, their resolve hardened by the commander''s unwavering demeanor. Orders continued to fly, and the dreadnaught''s engines roared as it shifted course, heading toward the heart of the conflict.

    ***

    Ren''s Perspective

    The streets of Baldur City were alive with the hum of daily life, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the cobblestone roads. Hovering vehicles drifted by silently, their sleek designs blending seamlessly with the modest buildings lining the district. Amid the bustle, a statue stood in the city square¡ªa towering figure cast in polished steel, its pose exuding both power and grace.

    Ren stood at the base of the statue, his dark blue eyes tracing the intricate details of the figure. The hero it depicted was a relic of Earth''s past, a symbol of the resilience that had once united humanity during the alien wars. The figure''s sword was raised high, its polished blade reflecting the sunlight, while a determined expression was etched onto its face.

    Ren''s tail swayed slightly behind him as he tilted his head back to look at the plaque beneath the statue. The words engraved into the metal plate glimmered faintly in the light: "For those who fought, for those who fell, for those who will rise again."

    The weight of those words pressed on him, stirring something deep in his chest. He tightened his grip on the leather strap of his bag, his mind swirling with thoughts of the future.

    "I''ll join the Imperial Guard one day," Ren muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes burned with a quiet determination as he gazed up at the hero''s face. "I''ll protect this city¡­ this world. I''ll prove that I can be someone who matters."

    He remembered his father''s voice, the way he had spoken about the hero in the statue¡ªhow one person''s resolve could change the course of history. It was those stories that had sparked the dream within Ren, even when others dismissed him because of what he was.

    Ren took a deep breath and turned away from the statue. His footsteps were steady as he made his way back home.

    The sun dipped lower as Ren approached the small apartment complex he called home. Its metal walls bore the marks of time, with patches of rust creeping along the edges. The faint hum of nearby machinery filled the air, blending with the occasional chatter from neighboring units.

    Ren climbed the narrow staircase, his footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. Reaching his door, he hesitated for a moment before unlocking it and stepping inside. The familiar scent of home greeted him¡ªa mix of aged wood and the faint aroma of herbs.

    To his surprise, his mother was in the small kitchen, standing over the stove. She turned at the sound of the door, her black hair tied loosely at the nape of her neck. Her blue eyes, though tired, carried a warmth that made the cramped space feel like a sanctuary.

    "Ren," she said, her voice light but tinged with weariness. "You''re back."

    "Mom, what are you doing up?" Ren asked, his tone sharp with concern. He quickly placed his bag on the counter and moved toward her. "You should be resting."

    She waved him off with a weak smile. "I''m feeling better today. Thought I''d make us some soup for dinner."

    Ren frowned, his tail twitching slightly. "You''re overexerting yourself again," he muttered, taking the spoon from her hand and guiding her gently toward the small dining table. "Sit. I''ll finish this."

    "I''m not as fragile as you think, you know," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. But she sat down, her movements slower than she let on.

    Ren set the pot to simmer and walked back to her, pulling the vial of mana potion from his bag and placing it on the table. "Here," he said, sliding it toward her.

    Her eyes fell on the vial, and a small sigh escaped her lips. "Ren, we''ve talked about this. You shouldn''t be wasting your money on me."

    "It''s not a waste," Ren said firmly, crossing his arms. "You need it more than I do."

    She shook her head, her expression softening. "You''re a good son, but you should be using that on yourself. You''ve got big dreams, don''t you? The Academy won''t accept someone who doesn''t take care of themselves."

    Ren''s jaw tightened. "I don''t care about that. You''re more important."

    Her smile faltered slightly, her eyes glistening. "Ren¡­ I''m proud of you, but you can''t put your life on hold for me. You have a future to think about."

    Ren looked away, his hands clenched into fists. "What kind of future is there if I can''t even protect the person who raised me?"

    Silence filled the room, heavy with unspoken emotions. His mother reached out and placed a hand on his, her touch gentle despite her frailty. "Your father used to say the same thing," she said quietly. "But sometimes, protecting someone means letting them make their own choices. And my choice is to see you live the life you deserve."

    Ren''s gaze flickered toward her, a storm of emotions brewing in his eyes. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped when he saw the conviction in her expression.

    "I just don''t want to lose you," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

    "And I don''t want to see you lose yourself," she replied, squeezing his hand gently. "Promise me, Ren. Don''t let this world harden you."

    Ren swallowed hard, his throat tight. He gave a small nod, unable to find the words to respond.

    The tension was broken by the faint bubbling of the soup on the stove. Ren stood abruptly, turning toward the kitchen. "I''ll get the soup," he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

    As he ladled the soup into two bowls, he couldn''t shake the heaviness in his chest. Setting the bowls on the table, he sat across from his mother, watching her pick up her spoon with a faint smile.

    "Let''s eat," she said, her voice warm despite the lingering sadness in the air.

    Ren nodded, picking up his spoon. But his thoughts were far from the simple meal before him.

 Chapter 2: Ashes on Fire 2

    Later that evening, as the sky outside turned a deep shade of indigo, Ren stepped out of the apartment. The air was cool, carrying the faint hum of the city. He didn''t have a particular destination in mind; he just needed to clear his head. His mother''s words lingered, heavy and unresolved.

    His feet carried him to the town square, where a statue stood tall in the center. It depicted a man clad in armor, his sword raised high as if ready to face the heavens themselves. The base of the statue bore a simple plaque: "For those who rose to protect when all seemed lost."

    Ren stopped in front of the statue, his dark blue eyes fixed on the figure''s determined expression. His tail swayed gently behind him, his thoughts churning.

    "I''m going to join the Imperial Guard one day," he muttered, almost as if addressing the statue. His fingers brushed the red stone on the necklace he always wore, a keepsake from his father. "I''ll protect this place. I''ll protect Mom."

    The words were filled with quiet conviction, but they carried the weight of his doubts as well. Could someone like him¡ªa Xeno, an outsider¡ªtruly make a difference?

    He clenched his fists, his gaze hardening. "They can look down on me all they want. It doesn''t matter. I''ll prove them wrong. Just watch me."

    Ren turned away from the statue and began walking, his footsteps echoing faintly in the empty square. His resolve was clear, but the road ahead loomed uncertain and filled with challenges.

    As he neared the edge of the district, the sound of rushing air caught his attention. A low, droning hum grew louder, accompanied by faint tremors that vibrated through the ground. Ren looked up, his brows furrowing as a massive shadow passed overhead.

    A massive aircraft¡ªa dreadnought-class cruiser¡ªloomed in the night sky. Its sleek, dark metal glinted faintly in the moonlight, its colossal engines casting a low rumble that sent chills down his spine. He''d seen such ships before in broadcasts, but witnessing one this close was a different experience entirely. It was a symbol of the Principality''s might, and its presence was rarely a good sign.

    ***

    Command Center

    Inside the cruiser, a man in a crisp black uniform stood in the middle of the command center. His presence was imposing, his neatly combed hair and sharp features radiating authority. His silver epaulets gleamed under the artificial lights as he turned to the tactical officer.

    "Report," he said, his voice calm but commanding.

    "Commander," the officer began, his fingers flying over the holographic console. "We''ve detected rebel activity closing in on Sector 49. Intelligence suggests they''ve established a foothold in the area."

    The commander''s jaw tightened. "Nearest military stronghold?"

    "The 49th Squadron, stationed near Baldur City," another crew member replied. "They''re within range to provide reinforcements."

    The commander considered this for a moment, his sharp eyes scanning the map projected before him. "Alert the 49th Squadron. Instruct them to address the issue and prepare for evacuation procedures in the surrounding area. The civilians must be secured."

    "Yes, Commander," the officer replied, immediately relaying the orders.

    "And send in reinforcements," the commander added, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We can''t allow the rebels to gain any more ground."

    The command center buzzed with activity as officers moved swiftly to execute his orders. The commander turned back to the projection, his expression unreadable.

    ***

    Ren''s Perspective

    Ren watched the cruiser pass, the low hum of its engines fading into the distance. His tail twitched involuntarily, a faint unease settling over him.

    "What are they doing here?" he muttered to himself. The sight of such a massive vessel hovering over Baldur City wasn''t normal. Something was happening, and it wasn''t good.

    He shook his head, trying to push the thought aside. Whatever it was, it wasn''t his concern¡ªat least, not yet.

    But as he turned to head home, a sudden, deafening explosion ripped through the night. The ground trembled violently beneath his feet, and a wave of heat and debris washed over the area. Ren stumbled, shielding his face with his arm as he whipped around to see the source.

    In the distance, a smaller aircraft had crashed in the middle of the street. Flames licked at the twisted metal, and thick black smoke billowed into the sky. People screamed as they ran in every direction, panic spreading like wildfire.

    Ren''s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the chaos unfolding before him. "What the hell is going on?"If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Ren''s feet moved before his mind caught up, propelling him toward the scene of the crash. The air was thick with smoke, the acrid scent burning his nostrils as he pushed through the crowd of panicked civilians. His heart pounded like a drum, each beat echoing in his ears.

    "What happened?" someone yelled nearby, their voice trembling.

    "Rebels!" another cried, pointing at the smoldering wreckage.

    Ren''s dark blue eyes darted to the twisted remains of the aircraft. The vehicle, once sleek and imposing, now lay in a crumpled heap, flames licking hungrily at its fractured hull. Pieces of debris were scattered across the street, embedding themselves into nearby buildings and vehicles. The glow of emergency lights flickered in the distance, though no responders had arrived yet.

    People ran in every direction, their voices rising in a cacophony of fear and confusion. Some stumbled over the rubble, their faces pale and sweat-drenched. Others clutched loved ones, desperately trying to escape the chaos.

    Ren stopped at the edge of the destruction, his tail twitching with unease. His hands clenched into fists, his mind racing to make sense of the scene. This wasn''t just an accident. The damage, the impact¡ªthis was an attack.

    "They wouldn''t¡­" he muttered to himself, but the thought trailed off. His gaze swept over the wreckage, searching for something¡ªanything¡ªthat could explain what he was seeing.

    Then he saw them.

    Figures moving in the shadows of the flames. Their silhouettes were unmistakable¡ªarmed soldiers, their rifles glinting in the firelight. Their uniforms bore no insignia, but their movements were methodical, practiced. They weren''t there to help.

    Rebels.

    Ren''s chest tightened as the realization hit him. His mind flashed back to the tales his father used to tell, stories of betrayal and bloodshed. He''d always thought those stories were exaggerated, relics of a time long gone.

    But now, staring at the scene before him, he realized how wrong he''d been.

    "Hey, kid!" A voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see a middle-aged man in a security uniform, his face smeared with soot. "Get out of here! It''s not safe!"

    Ren hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to run. But something rooted him in place, a burning need to understand why this was happening. "What about the people trapped in there?" he asked, gesturing toward the wreckage.

    The man''s face darkened. "Listen, kid. Those aren''t ordinary people in there. Just go before you get yourself killed!"

    Ren opened his mouth to argue, but a sudden burst of gunfire cut through the air. The sound sent chills down his spine, and the crowd around him erupted into renewed panic. He turned back to the wreckage, his eyes narrowing as he saw the soldiers advancing, their weapons raised.

    "Go!" the man shouted, grabbing Ren by the arm and shoving him toward safety.

    Stumbling back, Ren''s breath came in shallow gasps. He didn''t understand why this was happening, but one thing was clear: Baldur City wasn''t safe anymore.

    He turned and ran, weaving through the panicked crowd. The chaos around him blurred, his focus narrowing to a single thought: he had to get home.

    Ren sprinted down the broken streets, his breaths ragged as his heart pounded in his chest. Smoke and flames filled the air, blotting out the sun and casting the world in hues of red and black. The closer he got to where his apartment once stood, the heavier the dread in his chest grew.

    Finally, he reached the block where his home had been¡ªand froze.

    The entire building was in ruins, reduced to rubble. Fires crackled along the wreckage, and thick plumes of smoke rose into the sky. But what stopped Ren in his tracks wasn''t the destruction¡ªit was the towering, grotesque monster that stood amidst the ruins.

    The creature was massive, its hulking frame covered in leathery, ash-colored skin. Jagged, bone-like spikes jutted out from its back, and its eyes burned like molten lava. Perched on its shoulder was a rider clad in dark armor, the insignia of the Rebels etched onto their chest plate. The rider''s cold gaze scanned the wreckage below as the monster raised its massive, clawed hand.

    And there, clutched in its grip, was Ren''s mother.

    Ren''s eyes widened, dread washing over him like a tidal wave. "Mom!" he yelled, his voice cracking as he sprinted toward the scene.

    Before he could get far, a soldier of the Principality intercepted him, grabbing him by the arm. "Kid, stop! It''s not safe here!" the soldier barked, his voice firm but laced with fear.

    Ren twisted in his grip, his eyes wild. "But my mom''s there! Let me go!"

    The soldier hesitated, glancing at the monster as his hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword. His face was pale beneath his helmet, his gray eyes betraying the fear he tried to suppress. His armor was dented and dirt-streaked, a testament to the chaos he''d already faced.

    "I''ll save her," the soldier said, his voice faltering slightly. "Don''t worry, kid."

    But his hand trembled as he tried to unsheath his blade. He knew. Ren could see it in his eyes¡ªthe soldier knew he stood no chance against that monster.

    The soldier closed his eyes, his grip tightening on Ren''s arm. "I''m sorry, but we have to go."

    "No!" Ren screamed, struggling against the soldier''s hold. "Let me go, you coward! Let me go!"

    Tears streamed down his face as he thrashed, his gaze locked on his mother. She was heavily injured, blood staining her clothes and dripping from her limp body. Her head tilted weakly, and for a moment, her eyes met Ren''s.

    "Run, Ren!" she shouted, her voice strained but filled with urgency. "You can''t save me!"

    "No!" Ren yelled back, his voice breaking. "I won''t leave you! I can''t!"

    Despite her pain, his mother smiled¡ªa soft, loving smile that sent a knife through his chest. "I love you, dear," she said softly, her voice trembling.

    Before Ren could say another word, the monster''s claws tightened around her. With a horrifying snap, it lifted her toward its gaping maw. Ren''s screams pierced the air as he watched, helpless, as the creature bit down.

    Her upper body disappeared in a single, brutal motion. Then the monster devoured the rest.

    Ren''s legs buckled, his entire body shaking. His voice turned hoarse as he screamed, his cries tearing through the chaos around them. "No! Damn it! Damn it!"

    The soldier turned away, gripping Ren tightly as he bolted from the scene. Ren struggled, his fists pounding against the soldier''s chest. "Let me go!" he yelled, his voice raw. "Let me go, you coward!"

    The soldier''s face twisted with guilt, but he didn''t stop running. Behind them, the monster roared, its voice shaking the ground as flames consumed what little remained of Ren''s home.

    Ren''s screams echoed in his ears, the image of his mother''s final smile burned into his mind.

 Chapter 3: Ashes on Fire 3

    The soldier finally stopped in an alleyway several blocks away, his breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. He leaned against a wall, still clutching Ren by the arm. The boy''s struggles had subsided, but his body was trembling, and his head hung low, his dark hair covering his face.

    "Kid¡­" the soldier began, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. "I''m sorry. There was nothing we could do."

    Ren didn''t respond. His shoulders quivered, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. His tail, usually a subtle presence, twitched erratically, betraying his turmoil.

    The soldier reached out as if to comfort him, but Ren slapped his hand away, his movements sharp and violent. "Don''t touch me!" he snapped, his voice hoarse from screaming.

    The soldier flinched, guilt flashing across his face. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, realizing there were no words that could ease the boy''s pain.

    Ren took a shaky step back, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing. Tears still streamed down his cheeks, but his eyes burned with something deeper¡ªsomething darker. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, smearing the tears and dirt across his skin.

    "What''s your name?" Ren asked suddenly, his voice low but firm.

    The soldier blinked, caught off guard. "It''s¡­ Vaughn," he said hesitantly. "Why?"

    Ren''s gaze locked onto Vaughn, and for a moment, the raw intensity in his eyes made the soldier take a step back. "Vaughn," Ren repeated, his voice steady now, though the anger in it simmered just beneath the surface. "Remember it."

    The soldier frowned, confused. "What are you¡ª"

    "Because when I become strong enough to destroy every last one of them," Ren interrupted, his voice cold and resolute, "I want you to remember that you ran."

    Vaughn''s face paled, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to respond. But Ren didn''t wait for a reply. He turned on his heel and walked away, his steps heavy but purposeful.

    The city around him was in chaos¡ªbuildings reduced to rubble, civilians crying out for help, and soldiers scrambling to contain the devastation. But Ren didn''t notice any of it. His mind was consumed by a single, unrelenting thought.

    "I''ll kill them," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. "I''ll kill them all."

    He clenched his fists tighter, his nails drawing blood from his palms. The pain grounded him, fueling the fire that now burned uncontrollably in his chest. His mother''s smile, her final words, the sight of her being torn apart¡ªit all replayed in his mind, over and over, each memory sharpening his resolve.

    As he walked through the wreckage, the sounds of the city faded into the background. His vision blurred at the edges, narrowing to a single point of focus: the path ahead.

    No one would save him. No one would avenge her. It was up to him now.

    The boy who had once dreamed of becoming a hero was gone. In his place stood someone forged by pain and loss, someone who would stop at nothing to ensure that those who had taken everything from him paid the ultimate price.

    Ren stumbled through the smoky streets, his vision blurred by tears and the lingering haze of destruction. His body trembled with rage, his mind consumed by the image of his mother''s final moments. Each step felt heavier than the last, but the fire burning within him pushed him forward.

    Ahead, the faint sound of voices reached his ears. His bloodshot eyes locked onto three figures in the distance. Rebels. They stood amidst the rubble, rifles slung casually over their shoulders as they sifted through the remains of a nearby shop.

    The first rebel, a burly man with an unkempt beard and a patchy uniform, barked orders at the others. The second, lean and wiry, had scars crisscrossing his arms and a perpetual sneer plastered across his face. The third, a younger man with a shaved head, shifted nervously, his ill-fitting gear suggesting he was new to the group.

    Ren''s vision tunneled. He didn''t see their faces or hear their words. He saw only his mother''s blood, the monster''s fangs, and the rider''s cold indifference. He gritted his teeth, his fists clenching so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.

    "You bastards¡­" he muttered, his voice low and shaking.

    The rebels turned toward the sound, their expressions shifting from surprise to amusement.

    "What''s this?" the bearded man said with a chuckle, stepping forward. "Looks like a lost little pup."

    Ren''s tail twitched violently behind him, a sign of the storm brewing within. He didn''t wait for them to say more. In an instant, he bolted forward, grabbing a piece of broken steel from the rubble. With a guttural yell, he swung at the nearest rebel.

    The scarred man barely had time to react as Ren''s makeshift blade tore into his arm, the jagged edge embedding itself into flesh. The man howled in pain, staggering back and clutching his bleeding limb.

    "You son of a¡ª" the burly man started, but Ren had already turned his fury toward him. His swings were wild, fueled by rage rather than skill, and it wasn''t long before his attacks began to falter.

    The lean rebel ducked under one of Ren''s strikes and drove a knee into his stomach. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.

    The young rebel sneered, kicking Ren in the ribs. "Stupid kid," he spat. "You''ve got a death wish?"

    Ren''s body ached, but his anger refused to wane. He pushed himself up on trembling arms, glaring at the rebels through the blood dripping from his forehead. "I''ll kill you¡­ all of you," he growled, his voice hoarse.

    The rebels exchanged amused glances, their laughter ringing hollow against the backdrop of devastation. The burly man raised his weapon, aiming it squarely at Ren. "Not today, kid," he said coldly, pulling the hammer back.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Before the shot could fire, a sharp whistle sliced through the air. The rebels turned just in time to see Vaughn, the soldier from earlier, charging at them from behind. His sword glinted in the faint light as he brought it down, cutting into the shoulder of the lean rebel. The man cried out, dropping his weapon and stumbling back.

    Vaughn didn''t hesitate. With a swift motion, he kicked the burly rebel in the chest, sending him sprawling onto the ground. The younger rebel froze, his weapon shaking in his hands. Vaughn''s sword flashed again, disarming him before he could fire.

    The soldier turned to Ren, who was still on the ground, glaring up at him. "You again," Ren spat, his voice dripping with venom.

    Vaughn didn''t reply. Instead, he grabbed Ren by the collar, lifting him off the ground. "This kid sure is a pain in the ass," he muttered, shaking his head.

    Ren thrashed weakly in his grip, his strength drained from the fight. "Let me go, you coward!" he yelled, his voice cracking with frustration.

    Vaughn ignored him. With a swift motion, he struck the back of Ren''s head with the hilt of his sword. The boy went limp, his anger silenced by unconsciousness. Vaughn sighed, slinging Ren over his shoulder.

    As he carried the boy through the ruined streets, Vaughn arrived at a makeshift military stronghold, a cluster of reinforced vehicles and hastily erected barriers. Soldiers milled about, their expressions grim as they assessed the ongoing battle.

    One of them, a younger man with a dirt-streaked face, approached Vaughn. "Who''s the kid?" he asked, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Ren''s bloodied figure.

    "Found him in the middle of a fight," Vaughn replied, setting Ren down gently against a crate. "He''s lost his family. Couldn''t escape in time."

    The soldier frowned. "And all that blood?"

    Vaughn rubbed the back of his neck. "He somehow managed to take down a rebel. Don''t ask me how."

    A deep, gravelly voice interrupted the conversation. "He did what?"

    The men turned to see an officer approaching. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his dark beard meticulously groomed. His black uniform bore numerous medals, and his sharp eyes scanned Ren with a mix of curiosity and intrigue.

    The officer stroked his beard thoughtfully. "This boy¡­ he looks no older than sixteen or seventeen. And he took down a rebel?"

    Vaughn nodded. "Yes, sir. The rebels were weak, but still¡­ it''s impressive."

    The officer knelt beside Ren, studying him closely. "Hmm. Interesting. Put him on the shuttle to the capital. We''ll see what to make of him."

    "Yes, sir," Vaughn replied with a salute. He hoisted Ren''s limp form back onto his shoulder and carried him toward a waiting shuttle.

    As Vaughn secured Ren inside, he noticed the faint glow emanating from the red stone in the boy''s necklace. It pulsed once, twice, before disappearing entirely. Vaughn frowned, but Ren remained unconscious, unaware of the strange occurrence.

    The soldier stepped back, watching as the shuttle''s doors closed. "Kid," he muttered under his breath, "you''ve got a hell of a storm coming your way."

    ***

    The shuttle hummed softly as it soared through the night sky, the distant lights of Baldur City shrinking into pinpricks below. Ren stirred, his head pounding as consciousness slowly returned. The faint vibrations of the shuttle jolted him fully awake, and he blinked against the dim interior light.

    His body ached, the remnants of the earlier fight weighing on him like lead. He shifted slightly, feeling the coarse fabric of the seat beneath him. The faint scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood still smeared on his armor.

    "What the¡­" Ren muttered, his voice hoarse. He looked around, his dark blue eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

    Vaughn sat across from him, arms crossed, his gaze fixed out the window. His expression was unreadable, the faint glow of passing lights casting shadows across his scarred face. Noticing Ren''s movement, Vaughn turned to him, his sharp eyes meeting Ren''s.

    "You''re awake," Vaughn said, his tone neutral. "Took you long enough."

    Ren''s glare was immediate, his tail twitching behind him. "You¡­" He leaned forward, his voice low and angry. "Where are we? What the hell did you do?"

    Vaughn raised an eyebrow, unfazed by Ren''s hostility. "I saved your sorry hide, that''s what I did. You were about to get yourself killed back there."

    "I didn''t ask for your help," Ren snapped, his fists clenching. "You had no right to¡ª"

    "Enough," Vaughn interrupted, his voice firm. "Do you think your mother would''ve wanted you to throw your life away like that?"

    Ren froze, his breath hitching. The mention of his mother hit like a dagger to the chest, and for a moment, the fire in his eyes dimmed.

    "Thought so," Vaughn said, leaning back in his seat. "You''re alive because of me, kid. You don''t have to like it, but you damn well better appreciate it."

    Ren gritted his teeth, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He turned his gaze to the window, the faint lights of the capital city beginning to come into view. Towering spires reached toward the heavens, their sleek designs a testament to advanced technology and engineering. The skyline was a mix of old and new, with ancient stone structures standing alongside gleaming metallic skyscrapers.

    "What is this place?" Ren asked, his voice quieter now.

    "The capital," Vaughn replied. "You''re being sent to headquarters. The higher-ups want to take a look at you."

    "Why?" Ren''s eyes narrowed. "I''m just a kid who got in the way."

    Vaughn smirked faintly. "Maybe. Or maybe they see potential in you. You did take down a rebel, after all."

    Ren''s fists tightened. "That wasn''t enough. It''ll never be enough."

    Vaughn''s smirk faded, replaced by a serious expression. "If you keep thinking like that, you''ll burn out before you even get started. You''ve got a long road ahead of you, kid. Learn to pick your battles."

    Ren didn''t respond, his mind too tangled in grief and frustration to argue. His fingers absentmindedly reached for the necklace around his neck, only to find it missing. He froze, his heart sinking.

    "My necklace¡­" he muttered, panic creeping into his voice. "Where is it?"

    Vaughn glanced at him, confused. "What necklace?"

    "The red stone," Ren said, his voice rising. "I was wearing it. It¡ªit''s gone."

    Vaughn''s brow furrowed. "I didn''t see any necklace on you."

    Ren''s breathing quickened as he searched his pockets, his movements frantic. "No¡­ it can''t just disappear¡­"

    The soldier''s eyes softened slightly, but he didn''t say anything. Ren slumped back in his seat, his hand clenching the fabric of his pants. The necklace had been his last connection to his family, a reminder of everything he''d lost. And now, even that was gone.

    The shuttle began its descent, the hum of the engines growing louder. The capital loomed closer, its lights casting a harsh glow over the shuttle''s interior. Ren stared out the window, his jaw tight as the weight of the day pressed down on him.

    The shuttle touched down on a large platform, the landing smooth but final. Vaughn stood, gesturing for Ren to follow. "Let''s go. They''re waiting for us."

    Ren hesitated, his body reluctant to move, but he forced himself to his feet. As the shuttle doors slid open, the cool night air rushed in, carrying with it the faint hum of machinery and distant voices. The platform was bustling with activity, soldiers and officers moving with purpose.

    A tall man with neatly combed dark hair and a sharp uniform approached. His piercing gray eyes swept over Ren, assessing him with a cold, calculating gaze. The officer''s presence was commanding, his every movement precise.

    "This is the boy?" the officer asked, his voice clipped.

    "Yes, sir," Vaughn replied, standing at attention.

    The officer''s gaze lingered on Ren, his expression unreadable. "He looks ordinary."

    Vaughn smirked faintly. "Looks can be deceiving, sir. The kid''s got spirit, if nothing else."

    Ren glared at the two men, his tail twitching behind him. "I''m right here, you know," he muttered.

    The officer ignored his comment, turning to Vaughn. "Get him cleaned up and prepared. He''ll report to me in the morning."

    "Yes, sir," Vaughn said with a salute.

    As the officer walked away, Vaughn placed a hand on Ren''s shoulder. "Welcome to the capital, kid. Try not to get yourself killed."

    Ren shrugged off his hand, his dark blue eyes narrowing. "I don''t need your help."

    Vaughn chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

    Ren stared after the officer, his jaw tightening as a storm brewed within him. He didn''t know what lay ahead, but one thing was certain¡ªhe wouldn''t let anyone dictate his path.

 Chapter 4: The Capital

    The soft hum of overhead air vents filled the sterile, white-walled room. Ren sat stiffly in a chair, his hands resting on his knees, his fingers curled slightly as if holding onto something that wasn''t there. His dark blue eyes flickered around the office¡ªpristine, impersonal, suffocating. The polished floors reflected the faint tremble in his legs, but his face remained still, unreadable.

    He didn''t belong here.

    Across the desk, a tall, imposing man observed him with a steely gaze. His nameplate read Colonel Edgar Wolfe, but Ren didn''t need to read it to know who he was. Stories of Wolfe''s exploits spread like wildfire among those who dreamed of serving the Principality. His uniform, black and pressed to perfection, bore a golden insignia of rank on his chest. A long, jagged scar ran from his temple down to his jaw, cutting through the graying stubble on his chin. His dark eyes, sharp and calculating, seemed to strip away any fa?ade Ren could put up.

    The officer flipped through a thick file, his gloved fingers turning each page with precise, deliberate movements. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but laced with something Ren couldn''t quite place.

    "You''re Ren, correct?"

    Ren gave a small nod, his throat dry. "Yeah."

    The officer''s gaze lingered on him before dropping back to the file. "Sixteen years old. No formal combat training. And yet, you managed to injure and disable an armed rebel." He paused, his eyes flicking up again. "Tell me¡­ how did you do it?"

    Ren swallowed, his jaw tightening. "I¡­ I don''t know." His voice was rough, strained. "I just acted."

    Wolfe leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping against the desk. "Acted." He let the word hang for a moment. "Do you realize how many trained men would have frozen in your situation? You didn''t hesitate. That''s something we look for."

    Ren frowned, his hands clenching into fists. "It wasn''t enough," he muttered. "I couldn''t¡ª"

    "That doesn''t matter now." Wolfe''s voice cut through the room like a blade. "What matters is what comes next."

    Ren lifted his gaze, a quiet fire burning behind his tired eyes. "What¡­ comes next?"

    The colonel leaned forward, folding his hands together. "I''m offering you a place at the Imperial Academy."

    Ren stiffened. "The Academy?"

    The officer nodded. "You''ll receive proper training. Combat tactics, discipline, and access to resources you could never dream of having otherwise." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "If you excel, you could join the Imperial Guard. Or¡­ beyond that."

    Ren''s thoughts raced. The Academy¡ªwhere the best of the best trained to become warriors of the Principality. It was everything he had dreamed of. A chance to be strong, to protect. But...

    He swallowed hard, a knot forming in his chest. "Why me?" he asked, voice laced with doubt. "I''m not special. I just¡ª"

    "You survived." Wolfe''s gaze was unwavering. "And in war, survival is everything. You have potential, Ren. Raw, unrefined, but potential nonetheless."

    Ren''s hands trembled slightly. He looked away, his thoughts clouded with doubt. Every part of him screamed that this was too much, too fast. He was just a boy from the outskirts, someone who had never belonged in this world of power and war. What if he wasn''t good enough? What if he failed?

    His fingers dug into his palms. "And if I refuse?"

    The officer''s lips curled into the ghost of a smile. "Then you can go back to whatever''s left of your old life." He leaned back. "But from where I''m sitting, there''s nothing left for you there."

    The words stung. Ren''s throat tightened, his mind flashing to the smoldering wreckage of his home, to his mother''s final moments. The monster. The helplessness. The rage.

    His breath hitched. He couldn''t go back. Not to that emptiness.

    After a long silence, he looked up, his voice quieter but resolute. "I''ll do it."

    Wolfe nodded approvingly. "Good." He motioned toward the door. "Vaughn will escort you to the Academy tomorrow."

    Ren stood slowly, his legs feeling heavier than before. He hesitated, his fingers brushing against the red stone necklace resting against his chest. It felt heavier now, as if carrying the weight of the choice he had just made. He looked the officer in the eye. "And after that?"If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Wolfe''s gaze sharpened. "After that, it''s up to you." His voice dropped lower. "Whether you rise or fall depends on how far you''re willing to go."

    Ren nodded, his dark blue eyes narrowing with newfound resolve. "I won''t fall."

    The officer smirked, standing and offering a curt nod. "We''ll see."

    As Ren turned to leave, his footsteps felt heavier, each step carrying him further away from the life he once knew¡ªand into something far more uncertain.

    Colonel Edgar Wolfe leaned back in his chair, studying Ren with a calculating gaze. He tapped his fingers on the desk before speaking.

    "The Academy opens soon," he said, his tone calm but firm. "Have you ever been to the capital before?"

    Ren hesitated for a moment, shaking his head. "No," he admitted quietly.

    A small smirk tugged at Wolfe''s lips. "Then it''s about time you got a good look at it." He stood up, stretching his shoulders, then walked around the desk and placed a firm hand on Ren''s shoulder. "Come on, kid. I''ll show you around."

    Before Ren could protest, Wolfe''s hand shot to his collar with startling speed.

    "W-wait¡ª!" Ren barely managed to blurt out before a faint blue aura surrounded them, and in an instant, they shot into the sky.

    Wind tore past his face, his breath catching in his throat as the ground shrank beneath them. His heart hammered against his ribs, his body instinctively tensing at the sudden, gut-wrenching sensation of weightlessness.

    "W-what the hell!?" Ren gasped, his eyes widening as the city stretched out below like a sprawling maze of steel and light. He gripped Wolfe''s arm instinctively, his voice strained with shock.

    "Relax," Wolfe chuckled, unfazed by Ren''s panicked flailing. "You''re not gonna fall."

    Ren swallowed hard, his dark blue eyes darting across the breathtaking view beneath him. Towering skyscrapers lined with glowing mana circuits pulsed like veins, and bustling streets thrived with the constant hum of life. Vehicles, both ground-bound and airborne, moved in seamless coordination, their sleek designs reflecting the advancement of technology.

    Ren forced himself to breathe, his gaze locked onto the city''s vastness. "You''re a... Fifth Circle mage, aren''t you?" he asked, voice still laced with disbelief.

    Wolfe grinned, guiding them effortlessly through the air. "Sharp guess. Only those at the Fifth Circle and above can fly freely like this."

    Ren let out a shaky breath. "You... do this often? Just grab people and take off?"

    Wolfe laughed, the sound deep and hearty. "Only when they need a little perspective." He gestured below. "Look around, kid. This is the beating heart of the Principality."

    Ren''s gaze flickered across the streets below. He watched soldiers in formation sparring with precision, their swords glowing faintly with Aura. A group of mages were casting intricate spells, their chants synchronizing in a mesmerizing display of power. Further down, martial artists radiated a golden aura, moving with a disciplined grace that felt almost otherworldly.

    "What''s with them?" Ren asked, his brows furrowing as he observed a cluster of robed figures standing apart from the rest, their hands glowing with an unfamiliar energy.

    "Qi users," Wolfe replied. "They''re from the Eastern Territories. Unlike us, they don''t rely on mana¡ªthey draw strength from their own bodies, refining their life force."

    Ren frowned. "I didn''t think something like that even existed."

    Wolfe shrugged. "The world''s a lot bigger than Baldur City, kid. Stick around, and you''ll learn that soon enough."

    Ren murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. "I wish Mom could see this..."

    Wolfe glanced at him, but said nothing. Instead, he shifted their course slightly.

    Ahead, a massive structure loomed over the industrial district¡ªa rusted, broken-down mechanical giant with its limbs twisted and bent. Engineers swarmed around it, carefully disassembling its exterior plating. Its worn metallic surface bore scars of a past war, and large pieces of its inner framework were already stripped away for examination.

    Ren''s eyes widened as they neared. "What... is that?"

    Wolfe smirked, his grip on Ren tightening slightly. "That," he said, leading them down to land nearby, "is a Battlon."

    Ren touched the ground with uneasy steps, eyes fixed on the towering relic. Its form was humanoid but unnerving¡ªmassive arms that looked capable of crushing buildings, a heavily plated torso marred with scorch marks, and a head shaped like a war helm. Deep grooves and old insignias were etched into its body, some barely visible under layers of rust and grime.

    "A Battlon?" Ren echoed, taking a few steps forward. "I''ve never heard of them before."

    Wolfe folded his arms. "Most people haven''t. It''s a relic from the Interstellar Wars. Back when Earth fought off alien invaders, Battlons were the pinnacle of warfare¡ªmassive war machines piloted by elite soldiers."

    Ren''s fingers twitched at his side. "If they were so powerful, why aren''t they still in use?"

    Wolfe sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because they''re outdated. Ever since the realms merged¡ªthe Lower, Middle, and Upper¡ªthe power gap between what we were and what we''ve become is too wide."

    Ren stared at the Battlon, his reflection shimmering faintly in the cracked plating. "So¡­ they''re just junk now?"

    "Not quite," Wolfe replied, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "They''re still valuable for study. Reverse-engineering them gives us insight into old tech. But as for mass production?" He smirked. "They wouldn''t last a second against a Sixth Circle mage."

    Ren frowned. "Then why not leave them in the past?"

    Wolfe glanced at the engineers, then at the battered Battlon. "Because history shouldn''t be forgotten. There''s still a lot we can learn from our mistakes."

    Ren''s gaze dropped to the massive chest plate, where faint letters were carved into the steel. He traced the worn engraving with his eyes, his lips parting slightly.

    Freedom.

    The word sent a chill through him. His fingers curled into fists at his sides as he stared at it, a sense of deep longing stirring in his chest.

    "Come on, kid," Wolfe''s voice pulled him from his thoughts. "We''ve got places to be."

    Ren lingered for a moment, his eyes lingering on the Battlon''s worn metal frame. Finally, he turned to follow Wolfe, casting one last glance over his shoulder.

    As they lifted into the sky again, Ren''s mind buzzed with questions he couldn''t quite put into words. But one thing stuck with him¡ª

    "Even something once powerful can be left behind... discarded."

    He wondered if that would be his fate too.

 Chapter 5: The Academy 1

    The towering academy gates loomed ahead, an imposing structure of dark iron and intricate engravings that stretched high into the sky. The thick metal doors bore the insignia of the Principality¡ªan emblem of a soaring eagle clutching a blade in its talons, symbolizing strength and authority. The walls flanking the entrance were built from stone and reinforced with layers of steel, a testament to the academy''s age and prestige.

    Ren stood at the base of the entrance, his eyes scanning the fine details of the carvings. His black hair was slightly tousled by the gentle breeze, and his dark blue eyes, usually filled with quiet resolve, held a hint of unease. The uniform he had been provided¡ªa standard gray military jacket and fitted trousers¡ªfelt foreign against his skin. Despite the proper fit, he couldn''t shake the feeling that it didn''t quite belong to him.

    Beside him, Wolfe adjusted his own uniform, the officer''s crisp black attire making him stand out amidst the sea of students in dark gray. His golden epaulets shimmered under the late morning sun, and his sharp features carried an air of authority that was hard to ignore. The subtle creases on his brow suggested he had seen far too much in his years of service.

    A figure in full black armor stepped forward from the gatehouse. The man''s imposing frame was accentuated by the polished plates covering his body, a dark crimson cape flowing behind him. His helmet, adorned with a silver crest, hid his features, leaving only a pair of piercing eyes visible through the narrow visor slit.

    "Halt," the armored man commanded, his voice carrying a weight of authority.

    Ren tensed, feeling the heavy scrutiny of the gatekeeper''s gaze upon him.

    "We''re here to register the kid," Wolfe said, his voice steady but casual. He reached into his coat and produced a small identification card, handing it over. The card displayed Ren''s name, face, and details in neat script, the picture staring back at him with an unfamiliar sense of finality.

    ''When did they even take that?'' Ren wondered, a slight furrow appearing on his brow.

    The armored man studied the card for a moment, then shifted his gaze back to Wolfe. He hesitated before standing straighter, snapping into a salute. "Forgive me, Sir Wolfe," he said, voice laced with newfound respect. "I failed to recognize you."

    Wolfe waved him off with a dismissive hand. "Relax, old man. I''m just out for a stroll today. No need for formalities."

    The armored man nodded and stepped aside, allowing them entry. As the heavy gates creaked open, the mechanical groan of metal grinding against stone filled the air, followed by the rhythmic echo of their footsteps crossing the threshold.

    Inside, the academy grounds sprawled out before them in a grand display of architecture and discipline. Rows of neatly lined buildings stood against the horizon, each structure designed with a blend of classical elegance and modern practicality. Large stone pathways stretched across the grounds, weaving between open courtyards and training fields bustling with activity. Students in black uniforms moved in synchronized patterns, their disciplined strides a stark contrast to Ren''s uncertain steps.

    He could hear the whispers even before he noticed the stares.

    "Is that¡­ a demon?" one student muttered, voice hushed but sharp.

    "Why would they let one of them in?" another sneered.

    Ren''s tail twitched, his grip on the strap of his satchel tightening involuntarily. The same murmurs, the same disgusted glances¡ªnothing had changed. He exhaled sharply, keeping his eyes forward.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    "Damned demon," "filth," "monster." The words echoed in his mind, old wounds reopening with each passing comment.

    His mother''s face flashed before his eyes¡ªkind, gentle, and worn from years of bearing the weight of prejudice. He recalled the time when a shopkeeper had refused to sell them food, the disdain in his voice cutting deeper than any blade.

    "She''s human, damn it," Ren thought bitterly. "But they never cared. Because of me, she was forced to endure it all."

    He glanced down at his tail, its smooth surface reflecting the sunlight filtering through the academy grounds. It was neither too long nor too short, a sleek, flexible reminder of the heritage his mother never spoke of.

    His father¡­ Ren barely remembered him. A fleeting image of a man standing tall, his words lingering like an old echo¡ª"Even something small can make a difference." That was all he had left of him, a fragmented memory that he clung to like a lifeline.

    Ren''s expression hardened. "If you really believed that, then where the hell are you now?" he thought, his fists clenching at his sides. "I''ll find you, and when I do, you better have a damn good reason for leaving us."

    "Stop spacing out, kid," Wolfe''s voice cut through his thoughts.

    Ren blinked and looked up. They stood before a towering steel door, far larger than any other on the academy grounds. Wolfe pressed his hand against a scanner embedded in the wall, and with a soft hum, the metallic surface dissolved away in intricate, shifting patterns, revealing a well-lit chamber beyond.

    Inside, a man with broad shoulders and a commanding presence waited. His dark brown hair was tied back, his chiseled face marked by years of experience. Dressed in a deep navy uniform adorned with silver insignias, he looked every bit the seasoned instructor.

    "Is this the new recruit?" the man asked, his voice low and steady.

    Wolfe nodded. "Yeah. Name''s Ren. He''s fresh, but he''s got guts."

    The instructor studied Ren with a critical eye before stepping closer. "I heard you managed to take down a rebel all by yourself." His gaze was calculating. "Luck, or skill?"

    Ren hesitated for a brief moment. "¡­Just luck," he finally said, lowering his gaze.

    The man chuckled. "Modest, huh? Even if it was luck, most would''ve frozen in that situation." He stepped forward, extending a calloused hand. "Name''s Vance. I''m your combat instructor."

    Ren shook his hand, but the moment their palms met, a strange sensation coursed through his arm¡ªa subtle, tingling warmth that made his muscles tense.

    Vance''s brows furrowed slightly. He turned to Wolfe. "You sure this is the right kid?"

    "What do you mean?" Wolfe asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

    Vance released Ren''s hand, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "He''s got no mana flow. Not a single trace."

    Ren stiffened. "What?" he muttered under his breath.

    Vance crossed his arms, his piercing gaze never leaving Ren. "I thought demons were supposed to be overflowing with mana," he added, eyes narrowing. "What''s the deal?"

    Ren shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, feeling an unfamiliar pressure weighing down on him. He swallowed hard, searching for an explanation that wouldn''t raise suspicions. Before he could respond, the man in front of him stepped closer, a sinister smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

    "Let''s find out," Vance said, his voice dripping with malice.

    Without warning, Vance pressed his palm against Ren''s chest, and a sudden surge of mana coursed through him. Ren''s eyes widened in shock as the raw energy seeped into his veins, igniting every nerve in his body with searing pain. His muscles tensed, his knees buckling slightly under the sheer intensity of the foreign force invading his core.

    He clenched his teeth, a strangled groan escaping his lips as his vision blurred. The pain was unlike anything he''d ever experienced, a burning sensation that felt as though it was tearing him apart from the inside. Just as he thought he couldn''t endure it any longer, the tingling in his arm reached its peak.

    Suddenly, a blue screen flickered into existence before his eyes.

    [Status: Activated]

    Name: Ren

    Lifespan: 17 yrs (87+)

    Race: ???

    Class: None

    Mana Circle: 0 Star (0.10%)

    Strength: 6 | Defense: 5

    Stamina: 4 | Agility: 4

    Constitution: 6 | Mana: 0.5

    Techniques: None

    Skills: None

    Ren''s breath hitched, and his heart pounded in his chest. His vision swam slightly as he stared at the unfamiliar interface, the numbers and words staring back at him in silent mockery. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what he saw, but the pain continued to throb through his body, making it hard to focus.

    "What... is this?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

 Chapter 6: The Academy 2

    Ren''s breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the glowing blue screen hovering in front of him. The numbers and words stared back at him in silent derision, their presence too bizarre to comprehend.

    [Status: Activated]

    Name: Ren

    Lifespan: 17 yrs (87+ years)

    Race: ???

    Class: None

    Mana Circle: 0 Star (0.10%)

    Strength: 6 | Defense: 5

    Stamina: 4 | Agility: 4

    Constitution: 6 | Mana: 0.5

    Techniques: None

    Skills: None

    He stared at the screen, his brows drawing together in disbelief. "What the hell is this...?" he muttered under his breath.

    Ren instinctively reached out, but his fingers passed through the glowing text. He jerked his hand back, eyes narrowing. Am I seeing things? He took a step back, his mind racing for a rational explanation. Maybe it was some kind of augmented reality trick¡ªsomething slipped into his food, or an experiment being run without his knowledge. The academy was known for testing out strange technology.

    He glanced around, but Wolfe and Vance were walking ahead without a care in the world, completely unaware of the surreal display before him.

    No way this is real.

    Ren exhaled sharply through his nose and shook his head. The screen still lingered in front of him, unwavering. He blinked once, twice, but it didn''t fade away. His stomach twisted with unease. It was too structured, too precise to be a random hallucination.

    His gaze locked onto the numbers. Strength: 6, Stamina: 4... Mana? Since when do I have mana? He swallowed hard, forcing himself to analyze it objectively.

    "This is stupid," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Maybe I''m just exhausted."

    He dismissed the screen with a wave of his hand, half-expecting it to disappear like a bad dream. To his relief, it flickered and vanished, but the uneasy feeling in his gut remained.

    "Kid?" Wolfe''s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

    Ren straightened up instantly. "I¡ªI''m fine," he said, brushing it off. His voice came out steadier than he felt.

    Wolfe studied him for a moment but didn''t push. Vance, on the other hand, simply motioned forward. "Come on. You''re wasting time."

    Ren fell in line, his mind still replaying the screen over and over. He could still see it in his head, burned into his memory. He flexed his fingers unconsciously, testing his strength. 6... Is that good? Bad?

    As they walked down the long corridors of the academy, Wolfe shot him a sideways glance. "You''re gonna have to take a test," he said, almost too casually.

    Ren glanced at him. "A test for what?"

    "To see what you''re made of," Wolfe replied with a grin. "Strength, agility, stamina¡ªthe works. They need to know if you''re worth their time."

    Ren frowned. "Great. Just what I needed," he said, sarcasm lacing his words.

    "Don''t think too hard about it," Wolfe said with a shrug. "Just don''t embarrass yourself."

    Ren scoffed. "Yeah, thanks for the encouragement."

    "Anytime," Wolfe smirked. Then, he stretched and rolled his shoulders. "Anyway, I gotta head off. Work calls. But don''t slack off. I''ll be watching."

    Ren gave him a nod, keeping his expression neutral. "Yeah, sure."

    Wolfe clapped him on the back before heading off, leaving Ren with Vance.

    Vance didn''t wait. "Let''s go," he said, already turning toward the training grounds.

    Ren followed Vance down the endless corridors of the academy, his fists clenched at his sides. The banners lining the stone walls, depicting long-dead warriors, felt like they were staring at him, mocking his presence here. His tail flicked sharply behind him, his frustration mounting with every step.

    "So this test," Ren started, his voice edged with irritation, "what exactly does it prove? That I can swing a sword? That I can take a punch? Is that all that matters here?"

    Vance didn''t even slow down. "It proves if you''re worth the effort. Some of us don''t have time to waste."

    Ren''s jaw tightened, his frustration boiling beneath the surface. "And you''ve already made up your mind about me, huh?" he muttered, his voice low but dripping with defiance.

    Vance glanced over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. "That depends. You planning to prove me wrong, or are you just gonna run your mouth?"Stolen story; please report.

    Ren''s eyes darkened. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the familiar fire that had always driven him. "I''ll do more than that. Just wait and see."

    As they neared the courtyard, the noise of combat swelled¡ªclanging weapons, grunts of exertion, the sharp hum of mana crackling through the air. The thick scent of sweat and burnt energy filled his nose, but Ren didn''t care. His eyes locked onto the training grounds, taking in the rows of students engaged in intense sparring.

    Then, the whispers started.

    "That''s him?"

    "He doesn''t look like much."

    "He won''t last a day."

    Ren''s teeth ground together. His shoulders squared as he met the stares head-on, his gaze daring them to say it to his face. Let them talk. Let them think whatever they want. I''ll shut them all up soon enough.

    "Relax," Vance said, though his tone was laced with amusement. "You''ll have your chance soon."

    Ren barely heard him. His eyes locked onto a student striking down his opponent with ease, the victor''s gaze meeting his with a smug expression.

    "Another one for the grinder, huh?" the fighter called out with a laugh.

    Ren''s lips curled into a sneer. "You wanna find out?" he shot back without hesitation, his voice carrying across the courtyard.

    Vance grabbed his arm, pulling him forward. "Cool it, rookie. Your time''s coming."

    Ren wrenched his arm free, his glare fixed ahead. I don''t care what it takes. I''m not losing to anyone.

    Ren stepped onto the academy''s sprawling training grounds, his dark blue eyes scanning the vast courtyard ahead. The space stretched far and wide, filled with students practicing sparring drills, mana manipulation, and endurance exercises under the watchful gaze of instructors. The sharp clang of steel against steel echoed in the air, mingling with the occasional grunt of exertion and the murmur of quiet conversations. He could feel the tension radiating through the atmosphere, thick and suffocating.

    I''m not weak. I won''t be weak, he thought, fists clenching at his sides. His jaw tightened as his eyes flitted to the looming training dummies ahead. Wolfe had said the test would measure his capabilities¡ªbut Ren knew the real test wasn''t just the numbers. It was proving to himself and everyone else that he belonged here.

    Vance led him to the first station: a towering, reinforced dummy made of dense steel and infused with mana, its surface covered in intricate engravings designed to absorb and measure impact force. The crowd of onlookers, mostly students taking a break from their own training, gathered around, whispering and eyeing him with disdain.

    Ren tuned out the noise, his focus sharpening to the task at hand. "What do I do?" he asked, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

    Vance crossed his arms, his gaze cold and unwavering. "Hit it. Hard as you can."

    Ren took a deep breath, stepping up to the dummy. His fingers flexed, the knuckles tightening until they turned white. His body coiled with tension, muscles straining as he reeled back and threw a punch with everything he had.

    BANG.

    A dull, echoing thud resonated through the courtyard. The mana crystal embedded in the dummy''s chest flickered, displaying the number:

    [Strength: 6.0]

    A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd.

    "That''s it?" one voice jeered.

    "I''ve seen cadets hit harder than that!"

    Ren''s teeth ground together. His tail twitched violently in irritation. He drew his fist back and struck again, harder this time, sweat beading across his brow.

    BANG.

    [Strength: 6.3]

    The jeering intensified. "What a joke! Guess demons aren''t as strong as they say."

    Ren''s breath came faster, his frustration mounting. He wasn''t going to let them get to him.

    With a guttural growl, he tightened his core and slammed his fist into the dummy again, channeling every ounce of his anger and determination into the strike.

    CRACK.

    [Strength: 6.4]

    It still wasn''t enough.

    He stepped back, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his academy-issued uniform. Vance''s face remained impassive, but the disappointment was clear in his posture.

    "That all you''ve got?" Vance muttered, jotting something down on his clipboard. "Move on."

    Ren swallowed the lump in his throat and turned away from the dummy, his chest heaving with exertion and frustration.

    Vance led him to the next challenge: a floating ring of mana-infused orbs designed to test his reaction speed and flexibility. The orbs pulsed rhythmically, waiting.

    "Dodge them," Vance ordered. "They''ll get faster. Don''t get hit."

    Ren stepped onto the platform, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. The first orb shot toward him, and he sidestepped quickly, avoiding it with ease. Another came, and he twisted, ducking under it just in time.

    The pace quickened.

    His breathing grew labored as the orbs came faster, striking at unpredictable angles. He dodged left, right, ducking low, but his reflexes weren''t enough. An orb clipped his shoulder, sending a sharp sting through his body.

    BEEP.

    [Agility: 4]

    Ren gritted his teeth, repositioning himself. His movements became more frantic, more desperate. He had to do better. His eyes darted from orb to orb, trying to predict their trajectory, but exhaustion crept into his limbs, dulling his reaction time. Another orb slammed into his leg, knocking him off balance.

    BEEP.

    He stumbled off the platform, panting heavily.

    "Sloppy," Vance muttered. "You hesitate when you should move. That''ll get you killed."

    Ren clenched his fists. He knew that. He knew that. And yet his body just wouldn''t listen.

    Stamina Test

    The final test was an endurance platform, its gravitational field designed to push cadets to their limits. Ren stepped onto it, and the moment the test activated, he felt the crushing weight press down on his body.

    His legs trembled.

    His breaths came in short, ragged bursts. The pressure intensified, digging into his muscles like lead weights. He could hear the murmurs around him, the whispers of his failure waiting to be solidified.

    No. I won''t lose. I won''t fall here.

    His fingers curled into fists as he fought to remain standing, his tail flicking in defiance. Seconds stretched into eternity, his vision narrowing, sweat dripping from his chin.

    The gravity increased again.

    His knees buckled.

    His body screamed in protest, and finally, he collapsed to the platform with a painful thud.

    [Stamina: 4.0]

    The crowd erupted into murmurs and chuckles, but Ren couldn''t hear them over the sound of his own ragged breathing. He clenched his fists against the cold stone, forcing himself upright despite the shaking in his limbs.

    Vance clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Weak. Barely acceptable."

    Ren staggered off the platform, his pride bruised more than his body. He felt every fiber of his being screaming at him, demanding he do more, push harder¡ªbut he couldn''t, not now.

    Duel Test

    Vance''s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "One last test. A duel."

    Ren looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered cadet stepping into the sparring ring. Roland. His smirk was enough to make Ren''s blood boil.

    "All you have to do is land a single hit," Vance said. "Simple enough, right?"

    Ren stepped forward, his legs still trembling, but his resolve burning hotter than ever.

    "Begin!"

    Roland moved first, fast and aggressive. Ren barely dodged the first strike, his body sluggish from the previous tests. Roland''s fist slammed into his ribs, sending him skidding across the arena floor.

    Ren coughed, tasting blood in his mouth. He pushed himself up, glaring at Roland. His mind raced. He needed a plan.

    Wait for an opening.

    Roland charged again, his stance revealing a slight weakness in his right side. Ren feinted left, then spun with his tail, catching Roland''s ankle and sending him off balance.

    With a roar, Ren lunged forward, landing a solid punch to Roland''s jaw.

    The crowd gasped.

    [Duel Performance: 5/10]

    Vance raised an eyebrow. "Barely passable. Training starts at dawn."

 Chapter 7

    Ren stood in the middle of the training field, his fists clenched, his body trembling from exhaustion. His ribs ached where Roland had hit him, his arms felt like lead, and his legs still hadn''t recovered from the gravitational test.

    Yet, despite the burning pain in his muscles and the raw frustration gnawing at his pride, one thought burned brighter than the rest.

    I won''t lose. I won''t be weak. I''ll get stronger, no matter what it takes.

    Vance had already walked away, his clipboard tucked under his arm, not sparing Ren another glance. The crowd of onlookers dispersed, muttering amongst themselves¡ªsome indifferent, others openly amused by his barely-passing results.

    "Did you see that? He struggled so much just to land a single hit."

    "Honestly, how the hell did he even get in? A demon that weak?"

    Ren''s tail flicked sharply behind him, a clear sign of his irritation, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral. He didn''t need to waste words on them. The only thing that mattered was proving them wrong.

    A shadow loomed beside him.

    "Not bad, kid," Wolfe said, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, actually, no. That was pretty bad. But at least you didn''t die."

    Ren shot him a glare but didn''t respond.

    Wolfe chuckled. "You''re gonna need a hell of a lot more than just anger to survive here. You''ve got spirit, but spirit doesn''t mean shit if your body can''t keep up."

    Ren exhaled sharply, his frustration barely contained. "Then I''ll make my body keep up."

    Wolfe''s grin widened. "Good answer. Then let''s see how well you handle your first official day of training."

    Ren barely had a moment to process that before Wolfe turned on his heel and started walking.

    "Follow me, rookie. Training starts now."

    ---

    The Training Grounds ¨C Dawn

    Ren had expected to have some time to rest. Maybe a night to recover. Maybe an hour. Maybe five damn minutes.

    Instead, the moment he finished the entrance test, Wolfe dragged him straight into the real training¡ªno food, no break, no time to process anything.

    The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows across the academy grounds. The air was crisp, but Ren''s body still felt unbearably heavy from the previous tests. His muscles screamed in protest with every step, but he refused to show weakness.

    They entered a massive open training field, larger than the one from before. It was filled with rows of recruits already hard at work. Some were running laps around the perimeter, others were engaged in full-contact sparring. A few trained their mana control, focusing on glowing sigils beneath their feet.

    Ren''s gaze darted around, taking in every detail. His gut twisted slightly. He was at the bottom of the food chain here. He knew it. They all knew it.

    He wasn''t just weaker than them¡ªhe was already behind.

    Wolfe gestured toward a group of recruits practicing close-quarters combat. "You''ll start there."

    Ren''s eyes flickered to Wolfe. "Sparring?"

    "Hand-to-hand combat training," Wolfe confirmed. "You''re not good enough for weapons yet."

    Ren''s teeth clenched. The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, made something inside him flare with frustration. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself.

    Not yet. Shut up and prove them wrong.

    He exhaled sharply and stepped forward.

    The moment Ren entered the sparring ring, he knew something was wrong.

    The recruits standing inside weren''t just any recruits. They were already experienced¡ªmuscles taut, eyes sharp, bodies that had been trained and hardened over time.

    Ren wasn''t stupid. He recognized what was happening.

    They''re testing me. They want to break me.

    A burly recruit stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. His build was heavier than Roland''s, and his smirk made it clear he wasn''t going to take it easy.

    "New blood, huh?" The recruit cracked his knuckles. "Try not to embarrass yourself too much."

    Ren narrowed his eyes. "Let''s just get this over with."

    "Eager to lose? I like it."

    Before Ren could react, the recruit exploded forward. His fist flew straight for Ren''s face.

    Ren barely dodged, twisting at the last second, but he wasn''t fast enough to fully evade. The punch grazed his jaw, sending a jolt of pain through his skull.

    The recruit followed up immediately, his knee driving toward Ren''s ribs.

    Too fast.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Ren braced himself, shifting his weight to absorb the hit¡ªbut the impact still sent him stumbling backward. His ribs flared with pain, the exact same spot Roland had hit before.

    Laughter erupted from the watching recruits.

    Move. Don''t think, just move.

    Ren gritted his teeth and lunged forward. He swung, but his opponent easily sidestepped and drove an elbow into Ren''s back.

    Pain exploded down his spine.

    His knees buckled before he forced himself to stay upright.

    The burly recruit grinned. "That all you got?"

    Ren''s breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. His vision blurred for a split second¡ªbut that was all it took.

    A brutal kick to his stomach sent him crashing to the ground.

    Silence.

    Ren''s fingers clawed into the dirt. His breathing was ragged. His body hurt.

    But more than anything¡ªhis pride hurt.

    The whispers returned.

    "He''s pathetic."

    "What a joke."

    "Can''t even fight properly."

    Ren''s heart pounded violently against his ribs.

    The recruit stepped over him, looking down with an amused expression. "You''re done, demon."

    Ren froze.

    His fingers dug deeper into the dirt. His chest heaved.

    A memory flashed in his mind.

    ---

    A child stands alone in a dark alleyway.

    A group of older boys surrounds him, sneering, their voices filled with disgust.

    "You''re nothing."

    "You don''t belong here."

    A fist crashes into his stomach. The child chokes on air, curling inward as the jeering continues.

    His Mother''s face flashes in his mind. Her hands, worn and bruised. The way she always smiled despite everything.

    This world won''t let you exist peacefully, Ren.

    So what will you do?

    ---

    Ren growled.

    His body moved on instinct.

    Before the recruit could step away, Ren launched forward¡ªgrabbing his opponent by the leg and yanking him off balance.

    The recruit''s eyes widened, but before he could react, Ren drove his head straight into the bastard''s nose.

    CRACK.

    Blood sprayed as the recruit stumbled back, cursing.

    Ren didn''t stop.

    He tackled the recruit, throwing wild punches, rage coursing through every fiber of his being. He didn''t care how much it hurt. He didn''t care how sloppy it looked.

    All that mattered was that he kept fighting.

    "Enough!"

    A powerful force ripped Ren off the recruit, slamming him back onto the ground.

    Wolfe stood over him, his eyes narrowed. "That''s enough."

    Ren panted, blood trickling from his lip. His body was screaming, but his mind was burning.

    The recruit groaned, clutching his broken nose.

    For the first time since stepping into the ring, the whispers were silent.

    Ren stared up at the sky, breathless, as Wolfe crouched beside him.

    "You''re reckless," Wolfe muttered. "And if you keep fighting like that, you''re going to get killed."

    Ren''s breathing slowed.

    But Wolfe smirked.

    "Still¡­ not bad, kid."

    ***

    Ren layed on the ground, his chest heaving, his body aching from the beating he had just endured. But he wasn''t thinking about the pain.

    All he could hear was the silence.

    The same people who had been mocking him moments ago were now watching him differently. They weren''t laughing. They weren''t sneering.

    They were uncertain.

    Ren forced himself to sit up, ignoring the protests from his ribs. Blood dripped from his busted lip, and his knuckles stung from the impact of his wild punches. But he didn''t care.

    He had fought back.

    Wolfe crouched beside him, shaking his head. "You''re a damn mess, kid."

    Ren wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the blood across his skin. "Yeah?" he rasped. "Well, at least I''m still conscious."

    Wolfe chuckled. "That you are." He stood, glancing at the recruit Ren had just tackled. The guy was still on the ground, groaning in pain, blood dripping from his broken nose.

    Ren had lost the fight. He had been beaten down, overwhelmed, and humiliated.

    But he hadn''t stayed down.

    Wolfe extended a hand toward him. "Get up."

    Ren stared at it for a moment before gripping Wolfe''s wrist, letting himself be pulled to his feet. His legs almost gave out beneath him, but he locked his knees, refusing to show weakness.

    The watching recruits slowly turned away, murmuring amongst themselves.

    "He''s crazy."

    "Barely standing, but still fought back? He''s insane."

    Ren ignored them, his focus locked onto Wolfe. "What now?"

    Wolfe smirked. "Now? You run."

    Ren''s face twitched. "...What?"

    Wolfe pointed toward the perimeter of the training grounds. "Five laps around the entire field. Standard punishment for reckless fighting."

    Ren''s tail flicked in irritation. "You''ve got to be kidding me."

    "Do I look like I''m kidding?" Wolfe said, crossing his arms.

    Ren exhaled sharply through his nose. He glanced at the field¡ªit was huge. Each lap had to be at least a kilometer long.

    His legs already felt like dead weight beneath him. His ribs ached, his lungs burned, and his knuckles were raw.

    But he didn''t hesitate.

    He started running.

    Pushing Through the Pain

    The moment Ren took his first stride, his entire body screamed in protest.

    His ribs felt like they were cracking with each breath. His legs, still sore from the stamina test, felt like lead.

    But stopping wasn''t an option.

    The first lap was brutal. He was barely keeping pace with the slower recruits. His breath came in ragged gasps, sweat trickling down his back.

    By the second lap, his vision was blurring. His lungs felt too tight.

    By the third, his body was shutting down.

    One more step.

    Keep moving.

    He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, forcing himself to keep running.

    The other recruits barely paid him any mind, already finished with their own laps, standing off to the side, chatting and drinking water.

    They weren''t struggling.

    He was.

    But he kept going.

    By the time he reached the fourth lap, his legs buckled. He fell forward, slamming onto the dirt, his vision spinning.

    His entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out.

    The temptation to just lie there, let it end, was overwhelming.

    No.

    Get up.

    GET UP.

    Ren gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into the dirt. His arms shook violently as he pushed himself upright.

    He couldn''t stop.

    Not when he still had one lap left.

    A few of the recruits stopped their conversations, watching him crawl back to his feet.

    He started running again.

    Every step felt like hell.

    His breath was ragged, his heartbeat erratic, and his body numb with pain.

    But something inside him kept pushing forward.

    He wasn''t fast.

    He wasn''t strong.

    But he kept going.

    By the time he crossed the finish line, he collapsed onto his hands and knees, his entire body shaking violently. He couldn''t breathe.

    Dirt stuck to the sweat on his skin. His arms felt like jelly, barely holding him up.

    But he had done it.

    ---

    Wolfe crouched down beside him again, a smirk playing at his lips. "Still conscious?"

    Ren couldn''t even lift his head, his forehead still pressed against the ground. "...Shut up."

    Wolfe laughed, standing up. "Alright. That''s enough for today." He turned to the other recruits. "Someone get him some water before he dies on my watch."

    One of the cadets¡ªa girl with short, dark red hair¡ªstepped forward, holding out a canteen. "Here."

    Ren forced himself to sit up, snatching the water from her hands. He barely muttered a thanks before gulping it down, not caring how desperate he looked.

    The girl raised an eyebrow but didn''t comment. "You looked like you were going to drop dead back there."

    Ren wiped his mouth, his glare sharp. "But I didn''t."

    The girl smirked. "Fair enough." She crossed her arms. "Name''s Astra."

    Ren exhaled heavily, his body still trembling. "Ren."

    She nodded, then looked over at Wolfe. "This guy seriously your responsibility?"

    Wolfe grinned. "For now."

    Astra snorted. "You''re screwed."

    Ren ignored her, shifting his focus back to Wolfe. "What''s next?"

    Wolfe raised an eyebrow. "Next?" He shook his head. "Next, you rest. Unless you want to actually drop dead."

    Ren opened his mouth to argue, but his body betrayed him. His vision swam, and before he could react¡ª

    His world tilted sideways.

    Darkness swallowed him whole

 Chapter 8 Part 1

    Darkness.

    Then, pain.

    A deep, burning ache crawled through Ren''s entire body, weighing him down like iron chains. His limbs were numb, yet somehow still throbbed with exhaustion. His mind felt sluggish, trapped in a void of fatigue.

    A distant voice called out.

    "Hey, you alive?"

    Ren''s eyes fluttered open, only to be met with a blinding light. He gritted his teeth, groaning as his vision adjusted. A stone ceiling loomed above him, its rough surface illuminated by the flickering glow of oil lanterns.

    The smell of antiseptic and sweat lingered in the air.

    He tried to sit up. A sharp pain stabbed through his ribs, forcing him to wince. His hands instinctively clutched his sides, feeling the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. His fingers grazed over bruises¡ªfresh, sore, and a brutal reminder of the last few hours.

    Memories of his humiliating beatdown, his painful laps, and his body collapsing in front of everyone came rushing back.

    "Tch."

    Ren clenched his jaw, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

    Weak.

    That word echoed in his mind like a curse. No matter how much he fought, how much he pushed himself, his body had failed him. He had fallen.

    And now, here he was, lying in a damn infirmary bed.

    A voice cut through his self-loathing.

    "Looks like you''re finally awake, demon boy."

    Ren turned his head, his glare sharp despite his exhaustion.

    Astra leaned against the wall beside his bed, arms crossed, her red eyes flickering with amusement. "Passed out like a sack of rocks. Impressive stamina, considering you looked like you were about to keel over five minutes into your laps."

    Ren scoffed. "If you''re here to talk shit, save it."

    Astra smirked. "Relax. Just making sure you weren''t actually dead." She tilted her head. "You really don''t know when to quit, do you?"

    Ren exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment. "If I quit, I lose."

    "Yeah? And what exactly are you trying to win?"

    Ren''s eyes snapped open. He didn''t answer immediately. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, his mind drifting back to everything he had lost, everything he had endured. The jeers, the disgusted stares, his mother''s weary smile as she struggled against the weight of a world that had already decided their place in it.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    He clenched his fists.

    "I''m not going to stay at the bottom," he said, voice firm. "Not forever."

    Astra studied him for a moment before chuckling. "You''ve got a real death wish, huh?"

    Ren turned his head to glare at her, but she just smirked. "Don''t look at me like that. I kinda get it." She pushed off the wall, stretching her arms. "You''ll be stuck here for a bit, though. Wolfe said you''re not allowed to do anything stupid until you''re at least able to stand without falling over."

    Ren''s tail flicked sharply in irritation. "I don''t need rest. I need to get stronger."

    Astra snorted. "Uh-huh. Right. Go ahead and try standing then."

    Ren gritted his teeth and pushed himself up.

    The moment he got halfway, pain exploded through his core, his ribs screaming in protest. His arms shook violently, and before he could stabilize himself¡ª

    His vision tilted.

    Astra''s hand caught his shoulder before he could collapse. "Told you," she said flatly.

    Ren hated the smug look on her face.

    More than that, he hated how right she was.

    "Just rest," Astra said, stepping away. "You''ll have plenty of time to kill yourself trying to be stronger tomorrow."

    Ren clenched his fists but said nothing.

    ***

    Ren stayed in the infirmary for the rest of the night, despite his burning desire to leave. Every time he tried to sit up, the pain forced him back down. His body was a wreck¡ªhe knew that.

    But that didn''t make it easier to accept.

    The door creaked open.

    Ren glanced up, expecting Astra again, but instead¡ª

    Wolfe stepped in.

    The older man eyed Ren''s condition, his usual smirk replaced with a more neutral expression. "Still breathing?"

    Ren didn''t answer.

    Wolfe pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "You really don''t know how to hold back, do you?"

    Ren shot him a sharp look. "I''m not interested in being weak."

    Wolfe raised an eyebrow. "And how''d that work out for you?"

    Ren''s teeth clenched.

    Wolfe sighed. "Look, kid. I get it. You''ve got something to prove. But let me make something real clear¡ªyou don''t win just by throwing yourself at the enemy until they break first."

    Ren''s tail twitched. "Then tell me. How do I win?"

    Wolfe leaned forward, his gaze dead serious. "By surviving."

    Ren narrowed his eyes.

    "You can''t get stronger if you''re dead, Ren," Wolfe said, voice even. "You think just throwing punches and pushing through pain is gonna make you stronger? No. That''ll get you killed. And if you''re dead, then what? What happens to that whole ''not staying at the bottom'' thing?"

    Ren''s breath hitched slightly.

    Because he knew Wolfe was right.

    Ren hadn''t fought smart in that sparring match. He had fought desperate. Reckless. He had let his frustration drive him instead of his instincts. And because of that¡ªhe lost.

    Wolfe leaned back. "You want to be strong? Then learn how to fight without needing to get your ass kicked first."

    Ren looked away, frustration burning in his chest. But deep down, he understood.

    This wasn''t just about strength.

    It was about control.

    And right now? He had none.

    Wolfe stood up. "You''ve got potential, kid. More than a lot of the others. But if you don''t figure out how to use your head, you''re not gonna last long."

    He walked toward the door but paused just before stepping out. "Get some sleep. Training starts at dawn."

    Ren barely heard him leave.

    His mind was too busy replaying the fight in his head, dissecting every mistake, every failure.

    And then, for the first time since arriving here¡ªhe felt fear.

    Not fear of dying.

    Not fear of pain.

    But fear that Wolfe was right.

    That if he didn''t change something, if he didn''t find a way to survive¡ª

    Then he''d never be strong enough.

    Not strong enough to win.

    Not strong enough to stand above anyone.

    Not strong enough to change anything.

    And that was unacceptable.