Three years had passed since Vale's transaction with the Chaos Alchemist, and during this ti, a lot of things had changed.
The Philosopher's Elixir, once a rare and coveted potion, was now available to all. It had beco a rite of passage, allowing every child over the age of twelve to unlock their magical potential.
While the elixir was powerful, it ca with its limitations-those under twelve suffered bizarre mutations if they dared to drink it too early.
These mutations weren't harmful at all, but it was better to avoid them. These mutations could be having white streaks of hair, nurous moles, and yellowed teeth. They had beco the hallmarks of impatience...
So, it beca law to every nation that only those twelve and older could consu it.
Among those new Arcane Talents was Armin, a quiet but talented boy from an orphanage in Milton Kingdom's lthorn City. He had spent his life within the stone walls of the orphanage, watching from the windows as the world outside changed.
Now, his ti had co.
"It's really happening..." He muttered to himself.
Armin's reflection stared back at him through the window of the train as it sped westward.
His pale skin and dark eyes were quite common to see with his short, ssy brown hair. There was only his bright and hopeful gaze that set him apart from the other children he'd grown up with.
At this ti, he wore a simple tunic, patched at the elbows, and trousers that were too short- remnants of the orphanage's humble resources.
Despite his modest background, Armin had sothing others didn't. When he had consud the Philosopher's Elixir just a few weeks ago, the examiners in the orphanage had been astonished.
Not only did he complete the transformation process quickly, but he had been marked as capable of mastering three distinct Arcane Paths-Dark Arts, Transformation Arts, and Combat Arts. Among the twelve known Paths, these were considered a formidable combination, and his talents had earned him the chance to several Academies, but in the end, he decided to choose the Marshall Academy, one of the new and most prestigious institutions for Arcanists in the west.
After all, it was an Academy that was built by a living Immortal!
The Academy was located in the Shadow Immortal's Domain, a vast and mysterious land governed by the legendary Vale, who had risen to power over the years.
Although Vale was known to have powers over the Shadow Domain, he initially started as a Dark Arts Practitioner.
Anyway, although it had only been a year since the Academy had been opened, it was known for its focus on advanced magical disciplines, and its reputation had spread far and wide.
Armin's decision to pursue the Dark Arts there wasn't made lightly.
Although there were more than a dozen of Academies that teaches Dark Arts recently, the Marshall Academy was still the best option. Not even the ones established by the Dark Arts Faction itself could say much about it.
Thud... Thud...
As the train rattled along the iron tracks, Armin couldn't help but feel excited. He then looked around to see if there were other aspiring students who were planning to enroll in the Academy.
Looking around, he noticed that the train's interior was a mix of rich and poor-nobles should be seated in the luxurious carriages in front, while those like Armin sat in the crowded economy section, squeezed between rchants and common folk.
"I guess I'm the only one here going to enroll... Is it still unacceptable to practice Dark Arts?" Armin mused as he recalled the expression of the volunteers working at the orphanage. Although they weren't saying it due to their fear of the Shadow Immortal, it seed that Dark Arts were still sothing that old people could accept deep within their hearts.
'Whatever...'
Thud... Thud...
The steady clacking of the wheels was almost hypnotic, but his mind was elsewhere after recalling the orphanage...
He clutched the small pendant around his neck, a keepsake from the orphanage. It wasn't worth much, but it was the only thing that had ever felt like ho.
'No going back now...' He thought.
Whatever was ahead of him was definitely a world full of possibilities but also danger.
The Dark Arts were feared for a reason, and the path he had chosen would not be easy. However, if he wanted to follow the path of the Immortal, he believed that this was the only way.
Looking out the window, Armin could see the landscape changing.
The lush fields of Milton Kingdom gave way to the vast plains of the west, where the air felt fresher as if filled with more magic.
His mind wandered back to the stories he had heard of the Vorathi, the ancient Practitioners of Void Arts, one of the Lost Arcane Paths.
It was said that they had once walked this very land, long before the rise of the Shadow Immortal, and now they threatened to return.
According to the information that had been spread by the Arcane Bureau, the world needed more Arcanists, warriors capable of standing against the Void's power, and that's what Marshall Academy was training them to beco.
Clunk... Clunk...
The train slowed as it approached a station for a brief stop.
The sound of the steam whistle then jolted Armin from his thoughts.
He glanced around, watching the other passengers preparing to disembark...
It wasn't his stop yet, so he remained seated. As soon as the new passengers ca, he noticed
a few children his age together with their parents, their eyes wide with excitent or fear as
Armin realized that they too, made their way toward the Academy.
A grizzled old man across the aisle caught his eye and grinned, revealing teeth yellowed with age. "First ti heading west, boy?" he asked.
Armin nodded. "First ti on a train, too," he admitted...
The old man chuckled. "You'll be fine. If you manage to pass, you might actually beco one
of my students."
"Ahh... Really?!" Armin was shocked. He didn't expect to et a professor here.
"May I ask for your na, Professor?" He added.
"Zeno... Zeno Roquemont."
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