The Academy administrative conference room occupied the top floor of Sparkshire's central building—a space designed for authority rather than comfort, windows overlooking the campus like an observation post surveying its territory.

Five instructors sat around the polished table, their combined rank representing enough power to level a large outpost, their expressions showing varying degrees of concern and satisfaction as they reviewed the first-year progress reports.

"The overall assessment looks good," Instructor Vex announced, scrolling through the performance metrics on a display. "The First-years are adapting to the Academy standards faster than the previous cohorts. Their Combat fundamentals are showing some solid improvements here and there."

"Disciplinary incidents remain within acceptable parameters," another instructor added. "Few fights. Minimal property damage.The Social dynamics are trending toward a normal factional clustering without escalating to a institutional problem."

Aldric Thorne sat at the table's head, his expression showing skepticism that decades of experience had taught him to trust more than the optimistic reports.

Everything looks good, he thought. Which means something's about to go catastrophically wrong. That's how these patterns work. A Calm before an inevitable shitstorm.

"What about Principal Godfrey?" Vex asked. "He's been gone so long. Shouldn't the principal of Sparkshire be present for all that's going on in his school?"

"He doesn't care about the school," Thorne replied flatly. "Plus he's just a placeholder for all the noble shenanigans that go on here. Even if he tried to put his foot down on certain matters, another noble would cry injustice, create some political complications that would make any actual administration impossible. So he plays to his whims. Maintains his facade of authority while avoiding any decisions that might anger the powerful families."

"At least there aren't lot of high-tier nobles this year," Vex observed. "Don't want repeat of what happened twelve years ago with that Armand boy."

The temperature in room dropped perceptibly—several instructors tensing at the reference to an incident that the official records claimed never occurred.

"I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that anymore," one younger instructor said carefully.

Thorne's expression hardened. "We're not. That's the Academy policy. The Incident is classified. Sealed. Never to be referenced in official or unofficial contexts."

But it happened, he thought. A High-tier noble whose name couldn't be mentioned did things that should have resulted in his immediate expulsion and criminal prosecution. Instead, the political pressure buried everything. Witnesses were intimidated into silence. Evidence were destroyed. Now the Armand's are much weaker than they already are.

Marlow Selaris—a younger instructor from House Selaris, recently appointed to the Academy staff—shifted uncomfortably, then shrugged.

"I know my younger brother starts this year," Marlow acknowledged. "Theodore. He's going to be a great one, as we of house selaris have always been."

"Why do you Selaris pricks all want your hands in the education of our upcomers?" another instructor asked with barely masked hostility.

"It's an Investment in future leadership," Marlow replied smoothly. "House Selaris believes our institutional involvement produces better outcomes for us than some houses detached observation."

In other words, Thorne translated privately, control the politics in the academy, tilt the scales toward noble candidates, and weave connections that outlive the Academy itself.

That's what noble house "educational investment" actually meant.

"I know most of you aren't here for your upright standards," Thorne said, his voice carrying authority that made even the noble-affiliated instructors straighten. "Not here because you love teaching the younger generations. You're here because the Academy position provides a certain prestige, political access, opportunity to advance your house interests."

He paused, letting the statement settle.

"But there should be limits," Thorne continued. "And there will be limits. I don't care whose house you represent. I don't care what political connections you maintain. The Academy candidates are under my protection. You manipulate outcomes, you interfere with an honest assessment, you compromise the institutional integrity for any others benefit—" His emphasis landed heavily. "—you answer to me. Personally. Immediately."

"Remember," Thorne added with cold finality, "I'm one of the few with no noble power wiping my ass and no loving family left. So when I make threats, I mean them. Because most of you all have lot to lose. I have nothing left except commitment to this institution's actual purpose. And I will defend that purpose against anyone who compromises it."

Including executing instructors if necessary, Thorne didn't say aloud.

The silence following his statement carried a weight of genuine threat—recognition that Thorne wasn't posturing, wasn't exaggerating, wasn't someone the political pressure could intimidate.

That's what having nothing to lose provides, Thorne thought. Freedom to enforce standards that compromised people can't maintain.

That's why I'm still here. Why the Academy tolerates my presence despite making the nobles uncomfortable.

Because someone has to hold line. Someone has to mean what they say.

And I'm apparently that someone.

"Dismissed," Thorne announced. "Monitor your assigned candidates. Report any concerning patterns. And remember—" His eyes swept the room. "—I'm watching you as carefully as you're watching them."

The instructors filed out, leaving Thorne alone with his progress reports that looked too good to trust.

Something's coming, he thought. Can feel it building. Too much calm.

-----

Elsewhere, an announcement appeared on every candidate's schedule simultaneously—-a notification requiring immediate attention.

ELECTIVE SELECTION - MANDATORY PARTICIPATION

Students were required to choose a specialized training track beyond their core curriculum. Options included:

Artifact Refining - Weapon and equipment enhancement through soul-force manipulation

Serum Production - Alchemical creation using Crawler materials and essence extraction

Engineering - Infrastructure construction and soul-force technology development

Warfare Tactics - Advanced strategic planning and large-scale combat coordination

Weapon Arts - Specialized combat technique refinement

Physical Conditioning- Advanced body development and enhancement optimization

Choose what amplifies your existing strengths, the guidance suggested. Or develop a new one that fills the gaps in your current build.

Bright stood in the common area, studying his options with firm consideration, his mind already gravitating toward an obvious choice.

Artifact Refining, he thought. I can literally fuse two things together. It's like a cheat code for weapon enhancement.

His fusion talent had produced a fused katana—a combination of a standard blade and another with an extending mechanism that created a weapon exceeding their component capabilities. Artifact Refining would formalize that instinctive ability, teach him a systematic approach to enhancement that intuition alone couldn't provide.

Plus it's practical, Bright recognized. A useful skill beyond combat. Something that provides value to squads and commands.

He marked Artifact Refining as a primary choice,and filed his selection through the Academy system.

Elsewhere, Duncan settled on Physical Conditioning without hesitation.

My body is my temple , he thought simply. My entire build focuses on physical optimization. Dedicated training in body development would serve my specialization directly.

The course was essentially an Academy-sanctioned gym—but with resources and instruction that his outpost training could never match. Access to rare supplements. Guidance from experts who'd optimized their own physiques. Techniques for maximizing core integration with physical development.

That's what I need, Duncan recognized.Pure physical excellence refined to highest possible level.

Adam chose Warfare Tactics despite his Intelligence Specialist classification.

Because intelligence work serves my tactical objectives, Adam reasoned. Understanding large-scale combat coordination makes intelligence gathering more valuable. I would be able to provide context rather than just raw information.

Plus it diversifies my capability beyond pure gathering of information, and brings it into the field of directing and leading troops.

Mara selected Weapon Arts after a brief internal debate.

Her Clear Mind core had proven less useful than she hoped. Her real strength was her blade work. Some dual weapons technique she refined through her consecutive combat experiences.

So lean into that, Mara decided.

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