Instructor Torquad exhaled as he took to the podium. One arm behind his back and his other, occupied with his sword.

"Alright, enough."

It didn’t take much persuading for the Cadets to follow his instructions.

Some collapsed, many fell on their bum and a few placed their arms on their knees, panting heavily. Only a significantly smaller portion actually stood without an ounce of fatigue.

This included Luca.

’I wonder how I would have fared if I had not gone for that exercise yesterday.’

It wasn’t just a curiosity at this point.

There were many with Synchrony scores between ten and fifteen, and even they were tired after just fifteen minutes of practice.

The reason was simple.

Their real strength wasn’t in their scores. They were not attuned, yet and Luca was.

"It seems like you don’t realise the disparity of the situation, despite being aware of it."

Torquad’s voice pulled the attention of everyone present.

"We were told to instruct you all..."

A small smile grew on his face. Devious and calm.

"So that you might prepare yourselves for your first expedition into the Abyss... three days from now."

That did it.

Those on the floor sprang to their feet.

Nobles and commoners widened their eyes and loud groans of protest ensued in the air.

This wasn’t just some dungeon gates like in video games.

This wasn’t a portal into another dimension, either, with hopes and dreams ahead.

In fact, calling it a nightmare would be an understatement.

The Abyss was a world. A vast one.

Multiple times larger than Earth Supreme and thought to be as grand as the cosmos itself.

People got lost. Many died.

The tales were spread far and wide... and even little ol’ Luca was aware of it.

’That’s too much! 3 days to prepare us for the Abyss?! That’s sending us to our deaths.’

Instructor Torquad burst out into a fit of laughter when he spotted a girl’s hand in the air.

"Yes, Thalia."

Thalia dropped her arm, her gaze firm and unrelenting.

"Cadets are always given the appropriate time of a month to adapt to their strength before being sent into a dangerous place like the Abyss."

Torquad held his chin up.

"Hmm, it seems not even the Ardenthal princess is aware of the current affairs."

He dropped his arm and placed his sword into the raised platform.

"Your question is unwarranted and fails to solve the undermining issue here."

He turned around slowly. His eyes pierced into the souls of the Cadets who dared to stare back.

"How many of you are willing to come back alive?"

Luca scoffed. ’Of course all of us.’

He played with his sword a bit, glancing to his side where Taren stood with a complicated expression.

It seemed like he was fighting his innate desire to be frightened.

’But not many of us are prepared.’

"I know all of you wish to come back alive, so I’ll say this once more."

He swung his blade in a perfect downward strike.

Another dedicated display of motion.

"Swing. Your. Blade."

The Cadets roared.

Every form of lukewarmness from the Nobles and weakness from the Commoners dwindled by a landslide.

Only the disciplined cries and the metallic sound of the blade cutting the air echoed through the air.

Instructor Torquad nodded once.

’It will do them more good to act in haste, since the Headmaster is so adamant on it.’

He had also been shocked on hearing the instructions. They all were.

But without much explanation, they had been convinced. Unwillingly or not, these kids will have to go on their first Expedition to the Abyss.

It was a necessity.

And the only way to truly progress as an Egoist.

Torquad came down from the podium and strolled around the lineup of newly invigorated Knight Apprentices.

Their actions were more grounded now. Structured.

There were many who still needed to practice the basics, but proper form could only be achieved through repetition.

"If you don’t get it, turn to your next Cadet and observe. At least one out of five of you are doing this properly, so don’t fret."

It wasn’t a compliment.

Even with how disappointing they were, Torquad could point out some good ones.

’Thalia, Velkan, Eldric, Aurev... Tisane.’

His gaze lingered on someone whose hair was one of the colours of the sky in a sunset.

A deep yellow.

’Who was he again?’ He stopped a few feet away from him. ’He looks like a commoner, but the way he changes form ever so slightly to suit his swings... is impressive.’

Only a few people were capable of that.

They were geniuses. Battle geniuses.

’The rest are either copying or nearly copying my form.’

He nodded with satisfaction.

’Good enough.’

The practice went on for about an hour before they were instructed to swap for thrusts. A thousand thrusts to be exact.

It had proven to be more complicated than the swings which were a motion aided by gravity.

The thrust, though, was straight and clean.

It tends to resist slight gravitational pressure.

And with the longswords which some had difficulties in even handling properly.

’I would have advised them to build their bodies... but that would be stupid.

We can’t hand-feed them everything.’

If they were smart, he figured they would go for personal training to build on their own strength.

This included the gym which was one of the more prominent buildings.

That was if they didn’t have proper form.

Since the Nobles who were his major focus already did, his task was a thousand times easier.

Another hour went by and their task was swapped once more.

This time, many had already begun to crack under the strain of their limbs and cores.

There was no break in between tasks, just a repetition of their Instructor describing how they should move for them to copy.

This time it was a combination of a swing and a thrust.

They were tasked with swinging downwards, then seamlessly transitioning into a thrust.

Now the number of Apprentices who did this was significantly smaller. Not even all the Nobles, for all their personal and life training were able to transition easily.

This wasn’t the same for all, though.

Torquad could still point out a few who did it easily... and of course, the only commoner who seemed to stand out the most was the one who performed it the best.

’Lucamir Elaric? The one with the 5%, right?’

He couldn’t take his eyes away from him for even a second.

His movement was fluid. His bones and muscles, even more.

It was like a constant tug of micro-improvements mixed into one perfect coordination.

’Absurd.’

In the middle of their task, he walked up to Luca and stood next to him. Watching.

The Cadet seemed to have noticed him, but paid him no mind.

He simply sliced downwards, then thrusted.

There was the sound of metal hissing through the air with a reflective sheen while sweat clung to his body.

Even with how strained he looked, he seemed capable of going on till the end.

Torquad held his chin as he studied the boy.

’His physical features aren’t bad. I can see muscles– not from training but... perhaps physical labour? His actions seem grounded and even his poise is a bit... Too firm?

It’s like he doesn’t get tired from monotonous actions.’

It was just an innocent curiosity... perhaps.

He shrugged it off and continued his stroll around the group.

And like that, another hour passed.

"Alright, your morning session ends."

The whole group fell into a row of relief.

With loud exhales and tired groans.

Even complaints as many fell on their bums or dropped their sword altogether.

"Don’t be lazy. You will return here for your afternoon practice where we will open your mind to fighting styles and begin duels in earnest."

"Fighting styles? That’s usually around the second month."

Taren muttered, next to Luca. Seated on the floor while panting rapidly.

"You are free to go back to your Hostels and take a quick bath.

Be back here before ten, since your Ego Manipulation Class will begin by ten."

A small smile formed on his face.

"Dismissed."

The Cadets scattered immediately.

Groups formed as they began to exit the Silver Wing.

Luca and Taren walked slowly behind the others, a pleasant smile on Luca’s face and a tired demeanour on Taren’s.

"Be honest, are you secretly a bastard child of some Grand Noble?"

Luca clicked his tongue. "Rude, Taren."

Taren shrugged. "Figured you weren’t the type to care." He said in-between breaths. "How are you not tired like me? I have a higher synchrony."

"I went to the gym the other day. Maybe that’s why."

Taren groaned. "If you want to insult me, then just insult me, Jeez!"

Luca chuckled. "I’m serious, though. You may have 15%, but you’re not truly up to that."

"Hm. True."

Taren tensed his muscles.

"I just became a 2nd Stage too, so, I’m not used to that."

"You got some resources too? What rank are you?"

"158!" He proclaimed with a giant grin. "Don’t cut me out yet, I’m going to take back my place."

Luca shrugged. "You do you, Taren."

"I will." His grin widened as he looked around. "Huh, I guess Thalia doesn’t walk to the Hostel like the rest of us."

Luca arched a brow. "I’ve been hearing that name a lot, don’t tell me you’re infatuated with her too."

Taren quickly shook his head.

"Never." He muttered with a slight blush on his cheeks. "I was just wondering. She’s the daughter of the Direct lineage and also the most talented... especially with that scary trait."

He visibly shivered.

This got Luca’s attention.

Any mention of people’s abilities was always a cause for his attention.

"Really? Is it her form or something else?"

"Definitely her form." He looked next to Luca who was nearly three or four inches shorter than him. He leaned in closer. "The Blood form."

Luca’s eyes flared in surprise.

’Interesting.’

Just then, Taren shifted as his gaze landed on something. He strained his eyes and leaned in closer, startling Luca.

"Hey, I don’t swing that way."

"Oh, sorry... I just... where were you trying some kind of performance training? I’m seeing a scar that looks like it was caused by a rope around your neck."

He backed away from Luca as they continued walking.

Luca nearly froze on the spot. His hand traced the wound Taren spoke of... and slowly, the previous encounter replayed like a bad movie.

’Shit, he’s not wrong... I can mark it out.’

He narrowed his eyes as his heartbeat spiked and something churned in his stomach.

A sudden realisation.

’It wasn’t a dream.’