Hours later, morning ca.
Lancet slipped out of the Bronze Dormitory before the dawn had even fully broken, the sky outside still a pretty, dark purple.
Friday was the one day of the academic week dedicated entirely to independent physical and magical cultivation. Students were expected to spend the day training and there was only one class after it all which was Combat.
Lancet had woken early because he knew with students not being in horooms learning, that ant he could easily run into waiting bullies.
So, he kept to the shadows of the gothic archways as he moved across the sprawling campus. One couldn’t bla him for being dramatically cautious; he was being hunted.
After the Higher Dungeon, he knew Kallan and his goons—or worse, the Terrible Three—would be looking for any excuse to catch him isolated in the corridors.
A Class Group-D scrub like him who had humiliated his betters was a walking target, and the Academy rules rarely protected students who couldn’t protect themselves.
After bypassing every place that had students in numbers, he finally arrived in the Academy’s high-grade training facilities.
There was an entire floor full of them. Lancet tried to find the one with the lowest number of people inside.
He was successful and strode inside.
The entrance alone was intimidating, frad by massive pillars of white marble and guarded by a uniford man behind a magitech terminal.
The senior took one look at Lancet’s scuffed boots and his Year One sleeve, his lip curling in imdiate disdain.
"Basic facilities are three blocks down, freshman," the guard drawled, not even bothering to sit up straight. "This hall requires a minimum balance of one thousand Profits to even cross the threshold."
"Well..." Lancet proudly pulled out his Academy ID and pressed it flat against the terminal’s runic scanner.
"What are you doing?!" the guard exclaid.
The machine instantly humd, and then a chi echoed through the foyer. The terminal screen flashed a brilliant, undeniable gold.
⸢ Access Granted: MVP One-Week Pass ⸥
The guard’s sneer evaporated, his eyes bulging slightly as he stared at the screen, then back at Lancet.
Without a word, Lancet retrieved his card and walked right past the stunned guard, the heavy, reinforced glass doors parting smoothly for him.
Stepping into the high-grade hall was like walking into another world.
The floor was shiny, with a smooth white color that reflected the action going on, including the lights on the room’s lofty ceilings. This was the place where the Academy’s elite (the wealthy heirs and the elite 1%ers) utilized their Profits.
Students dressed in shining, tailor-made combat gear were stretching on shock-absorbing mats and their auras burned with a thick, heavy presence.
However, the actual beauty of the entirety of the building was located within the centre of the hall in this situation: the Spatial Simulation Chambers.
These were not just regular sparring rings but were instead three-dinsional, huge, glass tubes connected to the white floor by huge, complex runic structures.
These "training boxes" used magic and localized folding in space to create several different, fully-realistic combat environnts, based on a variety of terrain features.
Through the thick glass of the nearest column, Lancet watched a Third-Year student wading waist-deep through a hyper-realistic, putrid swamp, parrying the vicious strikes of synthetic reptilian beasts.
In another column, a swirling, violent blizzard raged, the localized weather system dropping the temperature so severely that frost coated the outside of the glass.
The spatial magic was flawless. It was a playground of lethal environnts, completely isolated from the pristine hall outside.
Lancet found an unoccupied sector near the back and he slowly walked towards it. He closed his eyes, taking a slow breath as he focused on his core.
The Magical Supplents Kasto and Anita had given him were borderline overwhelming. When he had downed the glowing golden liquid earlier in the dorm, it had hit his malnourished system and made him a brand new man.
Even now, after initiating Separation, he was left with a total Grace of 770.
For a one-in-a-lifeti student like Renan, 770 MP was pocket change. But for Lancet, whose initial cap was a re 250 MP, it was a miracle.
It wasn’t his full 1250 Grace capacity, but it was still 520 more Grace than he had ever naturally held.
Despite that, Lancet couldn’t bring himself to be fully happy with this accomplishnt. His mind kept creeping back to the Terrible Three and the Serpent Society.
He was paranoid, wondering if they were watching him right that mont.
Lancet cursed as he swept his gaze across the hall. He truly had to get rid of those guys so they don’t bother him. There were other things he wanted to concentrate on.
Now, it was ti to train. To get stronger. And at the sa ti, to get Astensia into Level 201.
Drawing on his new pool of Grace, Lancet reached out and anchored his will to reality.
The golden pillar slamd from the ceiling and on the ground, rattling the nearby weapons racks and causing the lighting to flicker for just a second.
The sounds of training across the hall halted abruptly. The students present turned to see what had happened.
From the light, Astensia Valengard appeared, golden and beautiful.
Her heavy, immaculate golden armor glead flawlessly under the magitech lights, and the Blessed Blade rested casually against her pauldron.
Every eye in the high-grade facility snapped toward them. Jaws practically hit the platinum floor.
The rich kids and elite combatants could only stare in paralyzed shock as a supposedly trash-tier student casually manifested a legend.
"So this is the guy everyone’s been talking about?"
Astensia didn’t even notice the audience. Her piercing blue eyes swept over the massive glass simulation columns, the glowing runic architecture, and the white ceilings.
"What a glorious hall," she murmured, truly enamored by the place.
Lancet rolled his shoulders, feeling the sturdy, humming tether of Grace connecting them. He looked up at his creation.
"It’s the training hall," he said.
"It’s a beautiful place," she woahed. Then she turned her gaze to him. "Beautiful day, Master Lancet. I didn’t expect you to summon so early."
Lancet wanted to tell her that he was frightened and needed to get strong fast, but he didn’t. He just shrugged. "I was excited to start. What about you? Are you ready to train ?"
A fiercely proud, radiant smile appeared on her precious face. "Excited, Lord Lancet."
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