The Silver Wing was a building complex with a vast, open field.

Its walls were made of iron sheets, and it took the shape of a warehouse structure, but it had two floors within.

This was the theoretical Building.

Swordsmanship Styles, General Application of Abyssal Knowledge, Egoists Affairs and many other sub and major topics were lectured here specifically for the Knight Archetypes.

The field, on the other hand, was divided into a plain, sandy area and a lush, green grass field.

The total size was at least five times that of a football field and the sandy area took up a portion that was equivalent to a single field.

Within the sandy area, large compartments with wooden swords of various shapes, sizes and forms were revealed.

These compartments rested on the walls of the side of the Main Building from which the entirety of the field drew.

Another compartment held various shields and a third, much smaller compartment, held various spears.

It was in this plain field that the Knight Archetype Cadets had begun to flock.

Beginning with a girl with deep crimson hair and vibrant red eyes who landed on one knee.

Next to her, a boy with white hair appeared.

Elyr Van De Caelun with a pleasant smile on his face.

"Lady Thalia, it is my pleasure."

He bowed slightly.

Thalia, the red-haired girl still in her night wear which consisted of red shorts and a plain white shirt simply nodded in recognition.

’So a Noble came first.’

She wondered before the air shifted next to the two and a third figure appeared.

With yellow lush hair and golden eyes that brimmed with the distant hues of Ego, Luca stood in the midst of the two figures.

’A commoner?’ She arched her brow in curiosity, before completely turning her attention away from them.

’Impressive.’

Luca glanced at the two figures wearily before backing further away from them.

His attention was drawn to Elyr, whose violet eyes bore into him with slight disdain.

’What’s he upset about?’

He wondered, when the boy attempted to take a step forward.

Immediately, the air shifted as more figures landed.

It began with the Vassals of the Ardenthals. Then slowly, Nobles and a few Commoners– males and females alike.

Elyr hesitated as the once empty plain field was filled with dust as multiple figures landed with strides.’Another day.’

And he turned away.

Luca found his behaviour peculiar, but had lost interest in it when Taren skidded, nearly falling on his bum, next to him.

"How are you so fast?!"

The boy’s chest rose and fell as a pained heave escaped his lips.

He bent with his hands on his knees, closed his eyes and panted steadily and speedily while sweat dribbled down his face.

"Yo– You went so fast!"

Even with how loud his voice was, the sound of the Cadets already conversing had waned as it spread.

That didn’t stop others from overhearing, and a few had actually witnessed it for themselves.

Daryon and his crew included.

Luca chuckled as he watched the boy’s knees wobble as if he used everything in his arsenal, just to keep himself standing.

"I go to the gym." He answered with a flicker of mockery.

Taren was a bit chubbier than the majority of the Cadets, after all.

In fact, he was the only one who was.

The boy raised his head accusingly as if trying to say ’No fair!’

Luca simply shrugged when he felt a subtle pressure in the air. And it wasn’t just him.

The heads of the Cadets turned in one direction. The front, where the Weapon Compartment was arranged neatly.

There, a man stood with his arms behind his back. The same signature look of the Ardenthal, but a sleeker form to it.

He had a moustache, and a strand of his hair fell over his forehead.

As he stood, the ground bent and the oppressive aura that rolled out of him was enough to evoke the silence that followed.

Luca’s lips tugged into a smile while Taren shivered, but suddenly stumped his feet and held firm.

Luca folded his arms and observed.

’An Invoker.’

There weren’t many, but when they revealed themselves, their Ego couldn’t be denied.

It was an oppressive weight. The powers of a Demi-god.

’I wonder how strong I’ll become when I reach that point.’

The man was silent as he stared at the Cadets with a look of disgust.

"Do soldiers not know the first rule of the Discipline?"

Immediately, the ground shook.

They rushed in line– forming files and ten orderly straight lines with at least six feet between them.

Even with over five hundred Knights, the plain, sandy area was not filled.

The man stood in front without moving a finger or even a hair.

It was mere words that made them act.

"This is the power of an Egoist. This is what you as Knights must strive for."

He began.

"The power to make mountains move without raising an arm... and I, your Instructor, will drill in you the very foundations to contain such power."

Luca’s smile widened.

’I’m getting too excited... but I can not help it.’

He tightened his fist.

’This is more than just resisting the Federation, or meeting my parents... this is for myself.’

He was becoming more and more obsessed with the idea of it. The sight of it. The smell of it.

Power.

"I am Instructor Torquad and I will accompany you on your journeys as Knight Apprentices."

He paused for effect, then continued.

"You will be drilled to the edge of the sword and advanced upon passing your inspection trials, held every three months. You will begin as a Knight Apprentice, rise to Knight Cadet, then Knight Aspirant– and only then stand on the threshold of full Knighthood."

It was no different across every Archetype. They began as Apprentices, Novices, or Acolytes, then ascended through two proving stages before earning public recognition—named at last by their Archetype.

Instructor Torquad lifted his arm and a plain longsword materialised in his grasp.

"Let us begin."

The electrifying pulse of Ego dispersing in the air erupted as they all summoned their longswords in unison.

"I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re using this boring sword instead of your weapon of expertise."

He scoffed as a wave of nods and words of agreement spread in the group.

"You’re a fool if you think this way.

If you’re incapable of mastering the most basic of all Knightly weapons, then who do you think you are to venture into the more complicated weapons?"

Luca stifled a laugh.

"1000 swings, begin!"

He stood on an elevated platform and swung his blade down in a straight, clean line.

Legs spread slightly apart while his body was angled to the side.

It wasn’t about the swing of his sword, but the manner in which he swung his sword.

Body control. Breathing pattern. Muscle tone. Even mental resilience.

"Review and follow exactly what you see."

He instructed and the Cadets followed.

At first, it began with sloppy copies.

Some staggered forward from the weight of the weapon.

A lot of these Knights were physically incompatible with the sword, being either too slim or imbalanced to wield it accurately.

Many had never held a weapon in their life, and some, like Luca, adapted far quicker than their peers.

Even when compared to those from the same district.

Kids at the age of eight weren’t exactly allowed to abandon school specifically for farming.

In fact, there were many highly advanced Farming techniques and machinery which aided their cause, so why would they?

Luca had parents who allowed him free rein in decision-making and whose decisions were more constructive than destructive.

After about ten swings, Torquad stopped and walked down the podium.

The Knight Apprentices continued in their task without pause.

Some, quickly find their stride, others are still lingering.

’Well, that’s my task, anyway.’

Torquad walked down the lines, with his sword resting on his shoulder.

When he spotted a Cadet lacking, he would slam the blunt part of his sword on their legs, arms and trunk.

"Straighter."

He slapped a girl’s side firmer.

The girl yelped, fixed her stance and continued.

"Your second arm should not be a limiting factor.

Fix it however you like."

He announced on noticing their failed attempt to reflect his.

He patted his blade between the girl’s legs, eliciting another protesting grunt before she fixed her posture and continued.

Torquad nodded and walked up to the next.

He watched, then went on.

’Weak.’

These were his thoughts as he went from line to line, observing the Cadets in their tasks.

It had not even been up to five minutes, but some of these kids were already straining hard.

Sweat dripping down their foreheads, breath uneven, and that flicker of useless defiance in their eyes in giving up.

"Do you fools not realise the importance of a body as a Knight?!" He began as he watched a scrawny boy fall to the ground.

A commoner, no less.

He bit down on his lips and kicked him by the side.

The boy grunted and fell, then slowly picked himself back up.

Torquad clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Words of advice to you younglings! Your body is your temple. Not just as people, but as Knights.

Without a strong core, you can not make even the simplest of manoeuvres.

Without grip strength, your palms sweat and your hold grows weak.

Without breathing form, you lose air from your lungs in ten seconds.

Without arm and leg strength, you wobble like a worm!"

He paused.

"Did you come here to joke around or did you come here to train?!"