Elliot stood still, watching the chaos unfold before him, eyes locked on the blue-haired girl across the field. Her prisoners, frozen in twisted stances of fear and panic, couldn't even scream—entombed in solid ice. The sheer control she had over the battlefield sent a cold shiver down his spine.
Then, without warning, a bolt of lightning ripped past his shoulder and struck the ground with a sharp crack.
"Hey—you're next!" barked a voice. The platinum-blond man grinned maniacally, lightning dancing across his skin as it coursed through his body. The tension in the air shifted with his charge—like a thunderstorm being hurled at full speed.
Elliot sighed, turning to face him. "Fine."
He crouched low. A flicker of yellow light pulsed from beneath his feet.
[Lightspeed]
The ground exploded behind him as he launched forward—vanishing and reappearing meters from the charging man. Wind pressure from his movement whipped around him, and using the built-up force, he twisted into a sharp dropkick. His heel connected squarely with the blond's jaw just as lightning flared between them.
The collision detonated like a cannon blast.
Dust and stone erupted, spiraling upward into a miniature tornado that cut off the crowd's vision.
"The new batch of enlistees are a bunch of weaklings, aren't they?" one supervising officer muttered, her arms crossed as she stared at the combat feed.
The other instructor, more focused, nodded slowly. "Most of them, yeah. But those three... they're different."
She pointed toward the monitors, eyes narrowing on the blurry silhouettes inside the dust storm.
Then a boom shook the training yard again. The vortex began to settle, revealing two shadows.
"Damn—that felt like running face-first into a brick wall," Elliot muttered, stepping out of the smoking crater and casually brushing dirt off his tunic. The arena was silent. All eyes were on him.
[Lightspeed Lv.6]
4/5 uses remaining.
The message blinked in front of him for a moment before fading away.
Across the training yard, students stared wide-eyed. Some recognized him from earlier. Most didn't. But now, they all knew one thing—he wasn't normal.
Not by a long shot.
The previously gossiping officers approached him, the intent to interrogate written all over their faces, but Elliot beat them to it. He raised a hand and casually pointed behind him.
"Start with him."
The instructors looked into the crater. The blond lay unconscious, twitching slightly as residual static crackled around his body. One officer knelt to check his vitals while another waved down the recovery team.
Elliot didn't stick around to explain. He turned and walked off toward the waiting area, each step echoing louder than the last in the stunned silence.
Up in the control room, Headmaster Kal Fullbright leaned back in his chair with a smirk.
"Lightspeed, huh?" he murmured. "Now that's a rare one."
The other instructors inside the room—senior knights, mages, and tacticians—spoke quietly among themselves, taking notes and cross-checking files.
"Elliot Rue. Third son of Sirius Rue?"
"No known enhancements or enchanted gear. That movement was pure technique."
Another instructor chimed in. "Not just technique. That was combat intelligence. He didn't just move fast—he used his environment."
Kal stood and walked over to the observation window. "We'll need to keep an eye on him. And not just him..."
He gestured to the monitor showing the blue-haired girl, now surrounded by thawing opponents, their eyes glazed with fear.
"And her. And the other two."
The headmaster's voice dropped, almost amused. "This year's going to be fun."
Later that day, after medical teams had cleared the battlefield and students were given time to regroup, Elliot found himself standing in front of a massive wooden door—his dorm assignment. Room 117.
The brass number plate was freshly polished. The Academy didn't believe in luxury, but it did believe in order.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was plain but functional. Two beds. Two desks. One window overlooking the east courtyard. His bag rested in the corner where the staff had left it earlier.
No sign of a roommate. Yet.
Elliot let out a breath and sat on the edge of the bed. His body ached slightly—nothing serious, just the aftershock of pushing [Lightspeed] without full cooldown. He opened his [Status Window] again.
[Name: Elliot Rue]
[Race: Human]
HP: 1,000 / 1,000 | MP: 1,500 / 1,500
STR: 100 | VIT: 1,000 | INT: 100
Skills:
Mana Engineer (Lv.10)
Mana Reader (Lv.11)
Expert Swordsmanship (Lv.2)
Lightspeed (Lv.6 – 4/5)
Charged Slash (Lv.2)
Blink (Lv.4)
Still solid. No damage taken. No level ups, but he hadn't expected any. His skills weren't brute force—he won fights by breaking tempo, not overwhelming it.
He closed the screen and leaned back on his elbows, eyes trailing across the ceiling.
"That girl," he muttered. "The one with the ice. Controlled. Deadly."
And the lightning user? Strong, reckless, and way too proud. Dangerous in a group, maybe. But predictable.
And then the third—the dark-haired girl. She hadn't said a word. Just shattered a guy's ribs with a punch and moved on like it was nothing.
They're not my enemies, he thought. Not yet. But they will be.
Outside the dorms, the Academy's bells chimed. Nightfall had come. The first day of testing was complete, and the real challenge hadn't even started.
Elliot stood and walked to the mirror mounted over the desk. He looked at himself—not tired, not injured. Just focused.
He whispered, barely audible: "I'm going to be the best."
A soft chime echoed in his head. Another system notification appeared.
[Notice: Enlistment Exam Placement Results Available]
Tap to View.
He smirked.
"Let's see how much noise I made."
[Author here, I will be inconsistent due to school so bear with me ]