The convoy stretched longer than Raze had initially expected. Fifteen carriages total, each bearing the royal crest of Westia emblazoned in silver and blue. The lead carriage carried palace officials who’d coordinate their arrival. The final three were supply wagons loaded with provisions for the journey. Between them, the thirty delegates were distributed in groups of two or three per carriage.
Raze and Fedora shared their carriage with a quiet girl nad Sera who spent most of the first day reading cultivation manuals. She’d introduce herself politely then retreat into her studies, content to let them have their space. The arrangent suited everyone.
Bephe lounged on the carriage floor between the seats, having shrunk himself down to the size of a large dog. Raze had discovered this capability by accident two days before departure when he’d worried about transport logistics. The young predator could apparently adjust his size within certain limits, compression that maintained his mass but made him far more manageable in confined spaces. Currently he was nestled against Raze’s leg, occasionally making soft rumbling sounds of contentnt that vibrated through the floorboards.
Slith coiled around Fedora’s shoulders as always, scales catching sunlight through the window in prismatic displays. Mittens had stayed behind with Sophie, the separation causing brief tears until Raze explained the journey was too dangerous for her companion. Better to leave the creature where it could protect his sister.
The first three days passed through familiar Westia territory. Rolling farmland and small villages, people waving at the royal convoy as it passed. The weather held clear and pleasant, spring warmth without oppressive heat.
"I’ve been thinking about the Academy structure," Fedora said on the afternoon of the fourth day. Sera had dozed off in her corner, leaving them relative privacy despite shared space. "The information packets were deliberately vague about the actual curriculum."
"I noticed that too." Raze watched countryside drift past while absently scratching behind Bephe’s ear ridge. "They emphasized prestige and opportunity but not specifics of what we’d actually be doing."
"Which suggests either flexibility in teaching thods or deliberate obscurity to prevent advance preparation."
"Probably both." He shifted position, careful not to disturb Slith where the serpent had draped across both their laps. "Academy like that draws exceptional people. Teaching them probably requires adaptive approaches rather than rigid curriculum."
Fedora nodded slowly. "The delegate numbers are interesting though. Thirty from each kingdom, four hundred fifty total. That’s manageable size for elite instruction while still being large enough to create a proper competitive environnt."
"Competition being the operative word." Raze’s voice carried dry amusent. "Gather humanity’s best prospects in concentrated space, give them resources and instruction, watch what happens when they’re all trying to prove themselves superior to each other."
"You sound cynical about it."
"I’m realistic about it." He t her eyes directly. "These people weren’t selected for cooperation and humility. They were selected for exceptional capability and drive. Put four hundred fifty of humanity’s most talented and ambitious youth together, tell them this is where the elite are forged, and cooperation becos secondary to establishing dominance."
Fedora considered that quietly. "You plan to participate in that dynamic or avoid it?"
"Neither. I plan to use it." Raze’s expression was thoughtful. "Competition creates opportunities. Resources get distributed based on performance, connections form through shared challenges, advancent accelerates when everyone’s pushing each other higher. The trick is recognizing where competition serves you and where cooperation produces better results."
"That’s surprisingly nuanced thinking."
"I’ve had practice navigating complex social dynamics recently." His tone carried hints of exhaustion. "The capital taught that power structures are never simple, and the Academy will be the sa. Just with better cultivators involved."
They lapsed into comfortable silence after that, watching the landscape transition from Westia’s farmland to the rougher territory marking their kingdom’s border. Bephe had fallen asleep, his breathing creating a gentle rhythm that was oddly soothing.
The convoy stopped for their first major rest at a fortified waystation on the fifth day. The structure sat at the intersection of three major trade routes, designed to accommodate large groups with proper facilities.
Raze climbed down from the carriage, stretching muscles cramped from extended sitting. Bephe hopped down after him, imdiately expanding to his preferred calf size now that space allowed. The transformation drew startled looks from nearby delegates who clearly hadn’t expected the small creature to suddenly triple in dinsions.
Around them, other delegates were erging from their carriages, grateful for solid ground and space to move.
A tall boy with dark skin and close cropped hair approached, moving with the controlled grace that marked serious martial training. His eyes lingered on Bephe with mixture of curiosity and caution. "Count Dragonheart? I’m Darius. I wanted to introduce myself properly since we’ll be representing Westia together."
"Good to et you." Raze clasped his offered forearm in the traditional warrior’s greeting. "What’s your specialty?"
"Spear work primarily, though I’ve cross trained with other polearms. You?"
"Sword and supplentary techniques. Though I’m still developing my overall style."
Darius grinned. "Aren’t we all? That’s what the Academy’s for, right? Figuring out what we’re actually capable of when properly trained." He glanced at Bephe again. "That’s quite the companion. I heard rumors you’d brought bound creatures but seeing it is different."
"Bephe’s harmless unless I tell him otherwise." Raze patted the creature’s flank. "Mostly he just sleeps and eats."
"Mostly," Darius repeated with amusent. "That’s reassuring."
They talked about cultivation theory while servants prepared the evening al. Darius had so interesting perspectives on mana circulation that Raze filed away for later consideration. The conversation was substantive enough to be worthwhile without straying into truly sensitive territory.
Other delegates mingled similarly, forming tentative connections. A girl with silver streaked hair was demonstrating barrier techniques to an appreciative audience. Two brothers who looked nearly identical were sparring hand to hand in the courtyard, their synchronized movents suggesting years of training together.
Fedora found him after dinner, Slith coiled comfortably around her neck. "The officials are saying we’ll reach the Cindral border tomorrow. We’ll spend two days traveling through their territory to the neutral waystation where we’re scheduled to et delegates from other kingdoms."
"Neutral waystation?" Raze raised an eyebrow. "That’s the gathering point?"
"Apparently. All fifteen delegations arriving simultaneously for coordinated entry into the Elmbridge Empire." She paused. "There’s sothing else. I overheard the officials discussing it. There’s an examination imdiately upon arrival at the Academy."
"What kind of examination?"
"They don’t know. Or won’t say." Fedora’s expression showed frustration with the ambiguity. "Just that all delegates face it together as soon as we arrive. No preparation ti, no advance warning of format or content."
Raze processed that. "Testing our ability to handle unexpected challenges without preparation. Makes sense for institution training people to face genuine threats."
"It makes nervous," she admitted quietly. "I’ve spent my life preparing for expectations I could identify in advance. This is different."
"We’ll handle it." He kept his voice confident despite sharing her uncertainty. "Whatever they throw at us, we’re Westia’s best. We’ll figure it out."
The journey through Cindral was eye opening. Where Westia had been farmland and modest prosperity, Cindral was concentrated wealth. The cities they passed glead with architectural grandeur that spoke to centuries of accumulated trade profits. Markets overflowed with exotic goods from across the continent.
"This is what controlling major trade routes produces," Fedora observed as they rolled through a rchant district that made Castle Town’s comrce quarter look provincial. "Every transaction, every shipnt passing through their territory, generating revenue that compounds over generations."
The alchemy shops were particularly impressive. Ingredients Raze had only seen ntioned in advanced texts were displayed openly in storefronts. Completed potions and elixirs of remarkable potency were sold to custors who apparently could afford such luxuries regularly.
"Kael would lose his mind here," Raze murmured, watching an alchemist demonstrate a technique through the window of his shop. The man was combining reagents with casual expertise that suggested decades of practice. "The resources alone would keep him experinting for years."
Bephe pressed his nose against the window, breath fogging the glass as he watched the crowded streets with curiosity. The creature seed fascinated by the dense concentration of people, so different from the quieter roads they’d traveled previously.
They stopped in Cindral’s capital for supplies and fresh horses. The city was magnificent, built around a central tower that pierced clouds with a gleaming spire. According to their escorts, the tower housed Cindral’s premier alchemy academy where techniques were developed that eventually spread across all fifteen kingdoms.
A rchant approached their carriage while servants were loading supplies. His clothes were fine quality without being ostentatious, marking him as successful but not foolishly flashy. "Delegates from Westia? Welco to Cindral. If you need anything during your stay, my establishnt offers the finest goods in the capital."
"We’re just passing through," Fedora replied politely. "But thank you for the offer."
"Ah, heading to Elmbridge Academy then. Excellent institution." The rchant’s eyes were shrewd as they flicked between Fedora and Raze, clearly recognizing nobility when he saw it. "I supply several delegates each year with necessary materials. Cultivation aids, protective talismans, communication crystals. Everything you might need for success."
"We’re adequately supplied," Raze said firmly. "But we appreciate the consideration."
The rchant accepted the dismissal gracefully and moved on to other carriages. Likely he’d make several sales from delegates who hadn’t prepared as thoroughly.
"Opportunistic," Fedora observed once he was out of earshot.
"Practical," Raze countered. "He knows his market and positions himself appropriately. Can’t fault the business sense even if the approach is aggressive."
They departed Cindral’s capital that evening, continuing toward the neutral waystation that would serve as a gathering point. The closer they got, the more delegates started showing nervous energy.
Sera finally erged from her reading on the eighth day, apparently too anxious to concentrate. "Do you think the examination will be combat oriented? I’m better with theory than practical application."
"Could be anything," Raze said honestly. "Combat assessnt, written testing, problem solving challenges, collaborative exercises. No way to know until we’re facing it."
"That’s not reassuring."
"Wasn’t ant to be." He kept his tone gentle despite the blunt words. "But worrying about the unknown doesn’t help. Better to rest, maintain your cultivation balance, and trust your training."
Sera nodded reluctantly, though the anxiety didn’t leave her expression. She glanced down at Bephe, who’d shrunk back to dog size for the carriage travel. "Does your creature help with stress? He seems to be calming sohow."
"The rumbling does have a soothing quality." Raze scratched the prehistoric predator’s head. "You can pet him if you want. He’s friendly with people I trust."
Sera reached out tentatively, running her hand along Bephe’s scaled hide. The creature leaned into the touch, purring sound deepening slightly. "He’s warm. Like holding your hand near a fire."
"His body temperature runs higher than normal animals." Raze had noticed that himself. "Sothing about his prehistoric physiology, probably."
They fell into conversation about bound creatures and cultivation theory, the discussion helping ease Sera’s visible tension. By the ti evening approached, she’d relaxed considerably, even managing to laugh at Bephe’s clumsy attempt to catch his own tail.
The neutral waystation appeared on the horizon late afternoon of the ninth day. It was massive, built to accommodate hundreds of people simultaneously. The structure was ancient, predating the fifteen kingdoms’ alliance according to legends. So said it had been constructed during the Age of Heroes as a gathering place for legendary warriors. Others claid it was built by dragons as diplomatic neutral ground.
Whatever its origins, the waystation was impressive. Three stories of solid stone construction with extensive stables, multiple dining halls, training yards, and accommodation wings. Banners from all fifteen kingdoms flew from towers, arranged in a circle representing their alliance.
Their convoy pulled into the massive courtyard to find it already half full. Delegates from other kingdoms had arrived ahead of them, clustering in national groups while eyeing each other with mixture of curiosity and assessnt.
Raze climbed down from the carriage, Bephe hopping out after him and imdiately expanding to calf size. The transformation drew interested looks from nearby delegates who clearly recognized the bound creature when they saw one.
Fedora erged with Slith coiled elegantly around her shoulders, the serpent’s scales shimring in afternoon light. Together they cut striking figures, nobles accompanied by exotic companions that marked them as exceptional even among this gathering of elites.
"Quite the crowd," Fedora murmured, surveying the assembled youth with diplomatic assessnt.
"Four hundred fifty of humanity’s best prospects." Raze’s voice was quiet. "All of us were selected because we transcended normal limitations in our respective fields. This is what concentrated ambition looks like."
He scanned the assembled delegates, automatically cataloging what he could observe. A group wearing Aeloria’s colors moved with military precision that marked serious martial training. Every step synchronized, every gesture economical. These were warriors raised in tradition spanning centuries, discipline ingrained from childhood.
Cindral’s delegates clustered near the alchemy wing, already discussing theory with animated gestures. Their robes bore subtle staining that marked people who spent significant ti working with reagents. Practical knowledge rather than just theoretical understanding.
Valtor’s group practically humd with ambient mana, their magical cultivation evident even at rest. The air around them shimred slightly, temperature fluctuating as their power leaked through imperfect control. Young mages are still learning to contain their strength properly.
A palace official approached, the sa one who’d managed their departure from Westia. "Count Dragonheart, Princess Fedora. Your accommodations are prepared in the eastern wing. We’ve arranged private quarters given your status."
"That won’t be necessary," Fedora said smoothly. "We’ll stay with our delegation. No need for special treatnt."
The official looked uncertain but nodded. "As you prefer, Your Highness."
They settled into the barracks style accommodation with the rest of Westia’s delegates. The rooms were functional rather than luxurious, but adequate for their purposes. Bephe curled up in the corner of Raze’s assigned space, shrinking back to dog size to fit comfortably.
The evening al brought all fifteen delegations together in the main dining hall. The noise was trendous, hundreds of conversations overlapping as delegates from different kingdoms sized each other up and ford initial impressions.
Long tables were arranged by kingdom, though the seating wasn’t strictly enforced. So delegates ventured to neighboring tables, introducing themselves and forming early connections. Others remained firmly within their national groups, either from loyalty or uncertainty about crossing those boundaries.
Raze found himself seated between Fedora and Darius, with a clear view of most of the hall. He observed carefully, noting dynamics and power structures forming already.
Astoria’s warriors ford a tight knit group marked by weathered complexions and synchronized movents. Years of shipboard life created bonds that landlocked nobility rarely developed. They ate efficiently, conversation punctuated with naval terminology that might as well have been foreign language to those unfamiliar with mariti culture.
Northrend’s delegation was easy to identify by their practical clothing and weapon scarred hands. These were people raised on borders where monster incursions were a regular occurrence rather than an exceptional crisis. Combat wasn’t theoretical exercise for them but survival skills honed through necessity. They watched the room with wariness that suggested expecting ambush even in supposedly safe environnts.
"The diversity is remarkable," Fedora said quietly. "Sa species, sa general cultivation systems, but completely different approaches shaped by their kingdoms’ circumstances."
"Environnt shapes capability," Raze agreed. "Cindral produces alchemists because trade wealth provides resources. Aeloria produces disciplined warriors because their military tradition demands it. Valtor focuses on magic because their academies refined techniques over generations. Everyone optimizes for what their situation requires."
Darius leaned in, keeping his voice low. "You notice how they’re clustering by kingdom but watching each other constantly? Everyone’s assessing threats and opportunities."
"Of course they are." Raze took a drink of water. "We’re all competing for limited resources at the Academy. Instructors’ attention, training facilities, advancent opportunities. Understanding who you’re competing against is basic strategic thinking."
"You sound like you’ve done this before."
"I’ve navigated competitive environnts." Raze’s expression was neutral. "The dynamics are similar whether it’s noble court politics or warrior cultivation. Identify threats, forge useful alliances, position yourself advantageously. The specifics change but the principles remain consistent."
Later in the evening, when most delegates had finished eating, one of the palace officials stood and called for attention. The hall quieted gradually, hundreds of conversations dying as people turned toward the speaker.
"Delegates of the fifteen kingdoms," the official’s voice carried across the space. "Welco to the neutral waystation. Tomorrow morning, we depart for Elmbridge Empire. The journey will take three days. Upon arrival at Elmbridge Academy, you will imdiately face examination before being assigned housing and beginning formal instruction."
Murmurs rippled through the hall. This was the first official confirmation of what many had heard as rumor.
"What kind of examination?" soone called out from the Valtor table.
"That information is not provided in advance." The official’s expression was professionally neutral. "The examination format, content, and evaluation criteria are determined by Academy administrators. Your responsibility is to perform to the best of your capabilities when faced with unknown challenges."
More murmurs, these tinged with anxiety. Raze watched faces around the hall processing this information. So delegates looked confident, apparently unbothered by uncertainty. Others showed clear nervousness, people who preferred preparation and structure to improvisation.
"Are we being evaluated individually or collectively?" The question ca from Astoria’s table, asked by the auburn haired leader in tone suggesting he expected an answer.
"That information is not provided in advance," the official repeated. "The Academy has trained humanity’s greatest warriors, mages, and scholars for generations. Trust their thods even when you don’t understand them imdiately."
The official dismissed them after providing departure ti for tomorrow morning. Conversations exploded imdiately, speculation running wild about what the examination might entail.
Raze stood, ready to retreat to quieter space. Bephe would be waiting, probably hungry after the long day. Fedora rose with him, Slith stirring from her drowsy position around the princess’s neck.
They wound through the crowd toward the exit. Delegates parted unconsciously for Fedora, her royal bearing commanding respect even here where she held no formal authority. Raze followed in her wake, noting how people’s eyes tracked them with a mixture of curiosity and calculation.
Back in their assigned quarters, Raze found Bephe exactly where he’d left him, though the creature had expanded back to calf size now that he wasn’t confined to carriage dinsions. The young predator’s tail thumped against the floor when Raze entered, clearly pleased by his return.
"You’d think we’d been separated for days instead of a few hours." Raze sat on his assigned bed, running his hand along Bephe’s scaled back. The creature leaned into the contact, rumbling contentnt vibrating through his chest.
Fedora appeared in the doorway, having settled Slith in her own quarters. "Mind if I co in? My roommates are speculating about the examination and it’s making more anxious rather than less."
"Sure." He gestured to the other bed. "Though I can’t promise my speculation will be more helpful than theirs."
She settled onto the offered bed, tucking her legs beneath her. "You’re not worried about the examination?"
"I’m concerned about it," he corrected. "But worry doesn’t change anything. Whatever they throw at us, we handle it or we don’t. Anxiety just wastes energy better spent on actual performance."
"That’s very practical."
"Asura’s influence, probably." Raze kept his voice low despite their relative privacy. "He has very little patience for emotional indulgence that doesn’t serve practical purpose."
Fedora was quiet for a mont, watching Bephe settle his bulk more comfortably on the floor. "Do you think the examination will be dangerous? Actually threatening rather than just challenging?"
"Maybe." Raze considered the question seriously. "Elmbridge Academy trains people to face genuine threats. Testing that capability might require genuine danger rather than sanitized simulation. But they also can’t afford to lose delegates before instruction even begins. So probably dangerous enough to be aningful without being genuinely lethal."
"Unless they factor expected casualties into their planning."
"Cheerful thought." He smiled despite the grim subject. "But possible. These are humanity’s best prospects, but they’re still unproven. An examination that eliminates those who can’t handle real pressure might be seen as acceptable filtering."
They talked quietly for another hour, conversation wandering between speculation about the examination and observations about their fellow delegates. Eventually exhaustion caught up with them both, the long day of travel demanding rest.
Fedora stood to leave. "Thank you for the distraction. Better than lying awake imagining worst case scenarios."
"Anyti."
She paused at the doorway. "Raze? Whatever happens tomorrow, or at the examination, or any of this... I’m glad we’re facing it together."
"So am I."
After she left, Raze settled onto his bed while Bephe claid most of the available floor space. The creature’s steady breathing created a soothing rhythm that helped quiet racing thoughts.
Tomorrow they’ll travel to the Elmbridge Empire. Then the examination, whatever that entailed. Then Academy life would begin properly, a concentrated environnt of competition and advancent.
Sowhere in that future, Alex Dawnsblade would eventually arrive with his divine blessing and narrative convenience. But Raze would already be established by then, already positioned to intercept opportunities before fate could arrange them for the protagonist.
The thought brought satisfaction despite surrounding uncertainty.
Sleep claid him gradually, consciousness fading while Bephe’s rumbling provided constant background comfort.
The next three days passed in a blur of travel and mounting anticipation. The convoy moved through increasingly prosperous territory as they penetrated deeper into Elmbridge Empire’s lands. The roads here were immaculate, maintained to standards that put other kingdoms’ infrastructure to sha. Villages were clean and orderly, citizens prosperous looking in ways that spoke to effective governance and abundant resources.
"This is what being the strongest kingdom produces," Darius observed during one of their stops. "They can afford the best of everything because nobody challenges them, so all their resources go toward internal developnt instead of military preparation."
"They still maintain their military," Fedora countered. "Just focused on quality rather than desperate quantity. Their Paragon rank cultivators are legendary across all fifteen kingdoms."
The landscape grew more dramatic as they approached the Academy’s location. Mountains rose in the distance, snow capped peaks that touched clouds. Between them, carved into the mountainside itself, structures of impossible scale beca visible.
Elmbridge Academy sprawled across multiple peaks, buildings connected by bridges that spanned dizzying drops. Towers reached toward the sky while training grounds occupied flattened areas that must have required decades of earth moving to create. The entire complex glowed with ambient mana, power saturating the air in ways that made Raze’s cultivation instinctively respond.
"That’s where we’re going," Sera breathed from her corner of the carriage. "It’s magnificent."
Magnificent and intimidating. The scale alone was overwhelming, suggesting resources and ambition that dwarfed anything Raze had encountered before.
The convoy wound up mountain roads that switchbacked steadily higher. The air grew thinner, temperature dropping as altitude increased. Delegates who’d never experienced mountain climate looked uncomfortable, though most adapted quickly enough.
Finally, late afternoon of the third day since leaving the waystation, they arrived at massive gates marking the Academy’s entrance. The gates stood open, welcoming but also imposing in their sheer size. Beyond them, a courtyard large enough to hold all four hundred fifty delegates with room to spare.
The fifteen convoys entered together, timing apparently coordinated precisely. Carriages from every kingdom rolled into the courtyard simultaneously, creating organized chaos as delegates disembarked and servants began unloading supplies.
Raze stepped down with Bephe hopping after him, the creature remaining dog sized for easier managent in the crowded space. Fedora erged with Slith coiled elegantly around her shoulders. Around them, four hundred fifty of humanity’s best prospects gathered, all facing the sa uncertainty about what ca next.
A figure appeared on the steps leading deeper into the Academy complex. An older woman with silver hair and bearing that commanded imdiate attention despite lack of obvious display. Her cultivation was impossible to read, suggesting either perfect control or power so far beyond Raze’s perception that asurent was aningless.
"Welco to Elmbridge Academy," her voice carried across the courtyard without apparent enhancent, reaching every delegate clearly. "I am Headmaster Sariah. You stand here because your kingdoms identified you as exceptional prospects worthy of the finest instruction humanity can provide."
She paused, gaze sweeping across the assembled youth.
"In one hour, you will face your entrance examination. Until then, prepare yourselves however you deem appropriate. May you prove worthy of the opportunity before you."
Then she was gone, disappearing back into the Academy before anyone could respond.
The courtyard erupted with noise as hundreds of conversations started simultaneously. Speculation, anxiety, determination, all mixing into a cacophony of human emotion facing unknown challenge.
Raze stood quietly amid the chaos, one hand resting on Bephe’s head while Fedora stood beside him with Slith alert and watching.
They’d arrived at Elmbridge Academy. And in one hour, everything would begin.
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