3: A Berserker's Arrival

“You sure we have to do this every time?” Kelsey grumbled, glaring around at them all. “We’ve been stalled on the project for weeks already.”

Raden waved for her to be quiet as a faint scuff sounded from ahead. “You hear that?”

They all paused a moment, but the sound didn't repeat.

Kelsey gave him a disgusted sigh. “We could have mapped out half the ruin by now if you would just let this go.”

“An abomination in the sector isn’t something we can just let go,” Raden explained for the thousandth time, his patient tone strained by repetition. “I agree it’s a pain. I know we’re losing time. But this one has three confirmed sightings over the past six months. And way too close to the target area.”

Something scraped, faintly, from ahead, like stone grinding on stone.

Raden hissed for quiet and they froze. Despite Kelsey’s protests, none of them argued.

They were all on edge. Even a group like theirs would be nothing but prey to an abomination. And while Raden was absolutely the sort to want to get a closer look at it, even he wasn’t stupid enough to attract its attention. If they couldn’t reach it safely, he’d rather retreat than get them all killed.

Even trying to fight such a thing would be a death sentence. Corrupted beasts, corrupted elementals—all of that they could handle. An abomination was another matter entirely. With the right preparations, they could be avoided easily, but the slightest miscalculation could be enough to doom them. The patterns had to be verified multiple times before the coda could be relied on. Only then could they move on to the next stage.

Raden crept forward, pausing to listen after every few steps.

Today’s abomination had lower middle-tier strength overall. High burst speed, high damage, but relatively low stamina and motivation. It looked like it could be a non-issue as long as they were able to avoid its attention, but so far he’d seen it wandering in the vicinity of the ruins a few too many times to be comfortable signing off on it. All it would take was one instance of lingering too long or picking the wrong evening to visit and it could wipe them all out.

If it were the lowest tier of abomination, he might have considered fighting it, but even then he’d have called in additional support.

By its usual pattern, this one should be somewhere around this area right now, which was why they were approaching, steadily and from a distance.

But while they were stealthy, the mutant monster was anything but. Another scrape echoed out, followed by grunting and roaring and smacking.

"Give me the binoculars, won't you, Kel?" Raden reached back for them as he peered around the edge of the crystal formation they were currently using as cover. “Sounds like it caught something to play with.”

It took him a moment to find the source of the chaos, zooming in as he scanned the surroundings. Craggy mountains in the distance, the peaceful nightglow of the frequent crystal outcroppings, the usual empty landscape.

Only tonight it wasn’t quite empty.

"Someone's fighting the abomination!" Raden gasped, zooming in closer on the scene.

"Who's the poor soul?" Malcolm asked, concerned. "He must be an idiot to be fighting an abomination."

"I’m sure he just got unlucky." Lee’s tone retained his usual dry irritation. "Who would be suicidal enough to hunt an abomination? Someone out exploring the ruins for whatever reason got himself cornered. Or maybe he's one of those outlaw classers who think they’re too good to follow the rules. If so, I hope he dies. Good riddance. At least if he goes down here he won’t be our problem later."

Raden said nothing. He knew how his friends could be, and while he didn't quite agree, some arguments weren’t worth repeating every time it came up. He was too captivated by the scene unfolding before him.

He could only see silhouettes, but that was still enough to paint a clear image. The monster threw the man into the air, but even as the creature leaped up at him, the man only twisted in midair to strike out at the abomination. Undeterred, unafraid.

He had to see more. He couldn’t stand being so far away. Someone that brave, fighting with such determined poise even as he was flung around, relentlessly attacking it as it toyed with him.

"Is there anything we can do to rescue him?" Raden wondered aloud, but that only got him angry glares from the rest of the group.

Kelsey huffed. "I'm not risking my life for someone fool enough to get caught by an abomination."

The monster grabbed the man and lifted him into the air, but the man threw his spear straight into its face with enough force it went through the skull and out the other side.

Raden’s jaw dropped. That was too much to ignore. He had to meet this man. He had to watch this battle up close. Was this man actually close to killing an abomination? Was he gaining the upper hand?

Unbelievable.

Raden didn’t even make the decision consciously, only found himself running toward the battle as fast and silent as he could. Anyone going head to head with an abomination had to be insanely strong.

Raden only slowed when he reached another, larger crystal formation, the last possible cover between himself and the battle. From here, the monster’s roars and the sounds of impacting weapons were so close he could all but see the fight even with his eyes closed.

He paused only a second to quiet his breath, then carefully stuck his head out around the formation.

The monster was on the ground.

Straddling the abomination, his legs planted firmly on the ground, the man was stabbing the creature again and again. Through its neck, through its face, through its eyes, he was screaming, yelling with a rage and passion that echoed in the night air.

He was splattered with the abomination's purple blood, yet he did not stop. His eyes were wide, his expression intense, as if he were in a ritual only he could understand.

Kelsey let out a tiny gasp. So they had followed him after all. Lee and Malcolm seemed more scared than amazed.

But for Raden, this man was an inspiration. He could only stare in helpless admiration as he watched this stranger do what he had dreamed of for years: kill an abomination with such passion and manliness. He knew he was witnessing true art.

And when the man finally finished, the monster destroyed at his feet, Raden couldn’t help but cheer.

—

Auren spun toward the sound, spear raised in readiness to fight, but the figures emerging from behind a purple-glowing crystal formation weren’t monsters. It was a group of four classers, probably younger than him by a few years. 

Based on their matching gear, actual weapons, and unique hair colors, these were probably academy students. They were easily the strongest group of classers Auren had been this close to. They all wore full suits of proper synthetic armor, not like the outdated old bulky armor most often seen out here.

“That was amazing!” The boy in front had red hair and a wide grin, walking toward Auren with his arms out and a bounce in his step, as though barely restraining even greater excitement. “You just beat an abomination to death on your own? How did you do that?”

The other three students, a girl and two guys, hung back, their clapping more stunned than anything. They looked back and forth between the oversized pile of dead monster and the bloody spear-wielding Auren.

Auren slowly straightened, but didn’t lower his spear. It was hard to think through the remaining haze of survival adrenaline. His first instinct was to run. Hide. But he’d also just fought off a monster several times his size.

"And without any gear too!” the red-haired boy enthused as he continued advancing on Auren with the kind of expression usually reserved for celebrities. Or heroes. “I’ve never met a real berserker before, but, by Halthin, that was brilliant! Which academy are you from? Did you sneak out too?”

“Uh…” Auren flinched back at the boy’s enthusiastic greeting, evading the touch when the kid went to clap him on the shoulder.

Where someone normal would have taken that as a sign to back off a little, this kid only leaned closer, scanning Auren up and down in the dim glow of the crystal behind him. “And without a single injury? Corlun, have I mentioned you’re amazing? I wish it weren’t so dark out tonight, I barely saw half of your fight. I can only imagine how brilliant it would have been in proper lighting. You’re absolutely mad, I tell you! Going for a solo kill is one thing, but not even having a spotter on call? That’s the kind of guts I wish I had.”

Auren blinked at him, still struggling to clear his head enough to come up with a response for this situation. Oddly enough, his life on the streets, shuffled from place to place, scavenging to survive, and subsequent break into the government workforce had left him with an education gap when it came to monster-slaying etiquette or interacting with rich academy students.

“Corlun, now I want to see just how sturdy that skin of yours is, if this is the kind of training you do,” the kid continued, not at all deterred by Auren’s lack of participation in the conversation. “Third tier classes are so specialized, I’ve never actually met one before. What’s it like? Gah!” He couldn’t contain himself and had to stop to spin around while punching his fists at the sky. “You’re so good. I’ve never seen anything like it. Such an exceptional fighter, I must say, and with such a reckless style too. You're so raw and wild! I can’t tell you how much I admire people like you."

Auren shifted his grip on the spear, resting it against the ground now, since it seemed obvious this wasn’t an attack. He wasn’t sure what it was, but his heart was starting to calm down a bit now. If anything, the kid’s babbling was helpful, something to focus on that wasn’t the blood and death and he’d killed it right there and its hand had been inside his body and what even…

"Oh Prela,” the kid went on, eyes following the movement. “A self-made weapon too? I tried to do that, you know, looked on the intranet. It’s so hard to find a reliable design, and even harder to get the materials… But I guess it's like a rite of passage? A ritual to be self-dependent." He walked around Auren in a circle, eyes on the spear, then nodded and pointed to a spot midway, just above where Auren had been holding it during his frantic stabbing frenzy. “Ah, see, it’s bent there, that’s a weak spot now. It’ll eventually snap unless you get some support in there.”

“Thanks.” He wasn’t wrong, Auren’s spear was a bit bent there, he would need to do something about that eventually. “And, who’re you?”

“Oh! Of course, I’m so used to everyone knowing me, ahah, my sincerest apologies for my rudeness! I am Raden Linde, second of that name, currently of Zellene for training, but with any luck I’ll be off to Halyath within the year, three at most. And you?”

“Auren.” He switched his spear to his off-hand to accept the handshake Raden offered, then hesitated when he saw how much blood and monster goo covered it.

Raden unhesitatingly grabbed it anyway, and then kept shaking several times longer than was necessary. “I know you don’t need my advice, don’t take this the wrong way. But this is too reckless, I must say, even for me. Being alone like this—what if you were to get caught off guard? Sometimes these monsters are stronger than we expect. Or what if it had a friend? Then you might genuinely die. Even if a Berserker is better off training alone, you should at least have an emergency backup."

“Are you trying to convince me to hire you?” Auren ventured, when the kid paused as though waiting for a reply. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard about us, but monster killing isn’t the most lucrative of jobs.”

“Sure it isn’t when you’re on your own.” Raden laughed and gestured at the oversized corpse. “How much of that are you going to be able to carry off on your own before it rots or attracts scavengers? That’s another place having a team would be useful.”

Auren turned back to the monster, assessing it with new eyes. “People pay for this stuff?”

“Sure, just need to know where to sell.” Raden winked. “If you sell it through official Academy routes, or even just the proper merchants… This corpse could fetch you quite a pretty penny. Lucky for you, I know all the right people. Just leave it to me next time and I’ll arrange everything.” He looked down at the oozing monster body and shook his head. “If I’d known, we could have brought harvesting tools, but I don’t think there’s much we can do with this one.”

The rest of his group exchanged looks and edged a bit closer. From their expressions, Auren expected they wanted to urge Raden to leave the conversation and continue on to wherever they were going, but they had as little idea as Auren himself how to stop the guy’s momentum.

"Oh, and you never did tell me which academy you're from."

"I'm not from an academy.”

“Private mentorship?  Or are you… self-taught?” At this, Raden just seemed surprised, whereas his squad raised their eyebrows. The girl looked uninterested, while the other two looked at him with judging yet impressed gazes. "Ahh! That would explain the handmade spear and the lack of gear. No finances to join an academy, yet you're training alone against the wild abominations just to improve yourself. Oh, that's so admirable! The spirit, the passion! The sheer manliness!"

Auren didn't know what to say, so he simply nodded. "Yeah."

“Just let me know if you think we could coordinate. Maybe we really should form a squad. Will you still be in the area next week? I’d love to get some tips when we have more time, and if you’re going to want to start making some money off your training—"

“Speaking of time,” the girl interrupted, striding forward. "Raden, we do have to get going. You wouldn't want to miss your early class. Trust me, Professor Baywel is already looking for bones to pick with you, after your performance last sem."

Raden’s smile slipped for the first time, a look of annoyance flashing across his face as he looked back at the girl, then smiled back at Auren. "Well, you heard the lady. It seems I must leave. However, however… if you come back next week, maybe we could meet and collaborate? We come in at the Verytta Station, northwest of here. Probably around midnight? You’d be more than welcome to join us. If you like, we can show you our base too. We’re working on a map of the whole Broken Lands, it’s going to be world-changing, I tell you."

His squadmates didn't seem too happy with that proposition.

But all the talk of collaboration had given Auren a different, crazy idea. And it wasn’t one he wanted to wait all week for Raden’s teammates to talk him out of. "Take me with you,” he proposed. “Right now, tonight. I want to join your academy."

Raden paused, finally taken aback. “Join Formindal Academy, now? It’s the middle of the semester, the year is almost over.”

Flattery never hurt, so Auren shifted his tone a bit as he went on, "You’re clearly an influential person. Surely your academy would let scholarship students join as long as they have someone to recommend them. Especially a rare third-form classer, eh?"

Raden blinked, then his face slowly broke into a grin. He let out a pleased laugh, his former excitement fully reinvigorated. "That’s a fabulous idea!" Raden would have grabbed Auren if Auren hadn’t taken a quick step back, but as before he went on talking as though he didn’t even notice. "Why didn't I think of it? Genius! You know what? Exactly! We need people like you in our academy. People of your caliber. Dedicated, talented, skilled. I wonder how far you can go with some effective tutoring? Oooh, I can’t wait to see. Set you loose on Professor Vrann? I can introduce you to Lord Keine directly, and he can get you past all the usual paperwork nonsense. Perfect!”

“Raden, we’re going to be late. The driver won’t wait forever, you know.”

“Of course, right.” Raden waved and started jogging. “Come on! Follow us!"

Auren nodded and ran with them, still mentally trying to catch up to events. Well, first thing, if they thought he was a Berserker, he’d have to play the part. And from what he’d heard, the part suited him well. Violently straightforward fighting style, in the thick of things, yet somehow surviving in the end? He couldn’t have come up with a better cover himself. So he pressed one hand to his chest where his mother’s crystal had imprinted itself and mentally brought up the status page.

Class: Healer (Fragmented)

Abilities: Heal [Available: Self] [Locked: Touch, Ray, Aura, Area]

System Class: Unawakened (Modify?)

It was that last option that he needed right now, so he mentally selected modify. The screen shifted into a text area, where he started to input Berserker and immediately got a list of twenty or so Berserker variant classes. Some were highlighted in red, others dull grey, but over half were standard text.

As tempting as it was to take on a fancy title like Runic Berserker or Windwalker Berserker, without the skills to back it up he’d be much more likely to blow his cover. At least with the base version, he could probably fake their skills more convincingly than if he had to use runes or wind magic.

System Class has been changed to: Berserker

So that was that. He could only trust that the hidden part of the Healer class functioned as it claimed.

He couldn’t help but scoff at the thought of what this must look like. Auren, covered in blood and monster goo, his shirt little more than a collar and one torn sleeve at this point, his pants a little more intact but still missing half of one leg and the rest of it so peppered with holes it was barely functional.

Like before, falling into the rhythm of the run was soothing, relaxing. It let him decompress from the chaotic battle and his subsequent mad gamble. On first glance, even he wasn’t sure why he wanted to join their academy, but as he thought more deeply about it, the answer was obvious.

Auren wasn’t ready. He’d barely survived against a single monster, and he knew there were far worse waiting deeper out into the Broken Lands. He’d gotten lucky that the thing was in a playful mood. If not for its arrogant carelessness, it could have had him in pieces multiple times during their fight.

Raden, for all his rambling, wasn’t wrong about that. If Auren kept pushing on alone, kept chasing whatever his fragmented class was calling to without regard for his own survival, he wasn’t going to make it.

He needed better equipment. He needed to know what he was doing.

He wasn’t sure yet if he needed a team, that part made him uneasy. Trusting a band of strangers from the wilds far enough to follow them home was enough of a strain on his caution for one day. He could revisit the team concept another time.

Before he knew it, they'd crossed out of the Broken Lands, through a section of unfamiliar northern architecture—a lot more factories and fewer warehouses, from the looks of it—and arrived at a section of shiny tracks leading deeper into the city. Waiting for them was a full, polished inner-city style tram.

Trams did run through the sector wards, of course, through the Suburbs towards the more commercial districts where the academy and similar institutions were, but they certainly did not look this good. He looked at the tram, a shiny metal thing without any rust or dust to be seen. Privately commissioned, by the looks of it, considering it was waiting for this group specifically and no one else was in evidence.

His instincts were right, this kid was someone influential—or rich, which amounted to the same thing.

The tram’s interior was just as nice as the exterior. The seats were clean, there was a proper route map, the windows were clear, and there were even things to hold on to if you wanted to stand instead of sit.

Auren hesitated to sit, but his muscles were trembling, so he gave in.

Raden immediately sat next to him and began to explain the layout, history, and facilities of the academy with the clear assumption that they would be classmates and there was no chance of anything else.

Auren smiled and nodded and did his best to follow along, but Raden interrupted himself frequently enough that he never quite seemed to finish any one topic before moving on to another and assumed a baseline of familiarity that left Auren scrambling to fill in the gaps. He didn’t interrupt. It was all interesting to know, and the more he could appear to be knowledgeable the better. No need to betray ignorance when the other was so freely providing information.

Out of the five academies that existed in Zellene, Formindal Academy was known as the premier destination for new Awakened. Two other academies serviced new F-rank classers, but both were government-run and far from exclusive. Formindal was the only one whose graduates had a 95% success rate at advancing to higher ranks and grander cities, a very popular destination.

Its yearly graduation festival was famous throughout more than just the inner rings of this city. Representatives from every city on the planet were known to attend, in hopes of recruiting promising young classers for their own higher academies or guild contracts.

“Or offworld, if we’re impressive enough. Our advanced training facilities are the best in the region, but insufficiently challenging after a certain point. However fast or complex the patterns, they lack the elements of a true life or death fight.” Raden laughed. “Of course, I don’t need to tell you that.”

Auren smiled and nodded and listened. Every once in a while, Raden would ask a specific question and actually pause for a response—where are you from, what brought you to fighting abominations alone, why haven’t you joined an academy before now and was it because you’re too good for them…—to which Auren gave the most vague answers he could that aligned with whatever Raden was imagining.

Auren was a berserker from the south, training by himself because the government academies weren’t able to handle his raw aggression, and he was too proud to go begging for a slot at a grander one, but not about to miss an opportunity that fell into his lap like this…

Mostly, he listened and watched the city go by outside the windows.

The tram only spent a few minutes on the ground before bypassing all of the third ring on elevated rails that let him look out over the city.

The view from above really drove in the differentiation between the areas. The suburbs outside the third ringwall looked somehow even more broken down and grungy from above, to the point where even the crystal-infested Broken Lands beyond looked more appealing. What on the ground level were half-solid buildings and decent shelter options, from above simply looked like wreckage. The few government-sponsored buildings stuck out like solid bricks among scattered kindling, facilities spread along the edge of the outer rimwall to provide at least a semblance of liveability to suburb-dwellers.

Within the outer ringwall, the buildings of Third Ring were grey and solid, in sections with the broken remnants of the old buildings either cleared away or shoved aside. The ringwalls themselves had only been added after the Break, but a strong culture of distinction had sprung up already. He could see four or five different subsections, regimented and haphazard all at once, with clear dividing lines and even a few fences set up to block various alleyways. Further from the railway, vast swaths of the old city had been fully torn apart and converted into fields for staple crops. Those dull green wedges represented the bulk of the region’s sustenance, and that was where the majority of the third ring’s unawakened population ended up working.

The trip also clarified the usage of the advertising billboards, all of which were clearly oriented to riders on this or similarly elevated rail lines. Though even now, Auren would contest that they were pointless given the economic situation of the planet as a whole.

Second Ring was an even starker contrast to Third Ring than Third Ring was to the outer suburbs. Lighter colors, more variation in the neighborhood construction, and a sense of purpose filled the place. Here, no sign remained of the wreckage of the old city from before the Break, no pavement, no rubble; if not for the outer rings, it may as well have been an entirely new city of stone and glass.

He didn’t have time to look more deeply, since almost as soon as they crossed the second ringwall, the tracks descended back to ground level.

"Look at that! We’re almost there."

Auren turned to see where Raden was pointing as the tram began to slow. Despite how much the boy had described the academy’s interior, Auren didn't know what to expect from the approach. He’d entered Zellene’s second ring several times by now for the awakening ceremony, and was at least a little bit used to the architecture style of the interior.

But he’d never been this deep in, and to look out and find a sprawling walled estate waiting for them certainly took him by surprise. Was that really an academy? More like one of those palaces nobles lived in.

Bright lights sparkled from its intricate white walls and balconies and brightly colored flags and tapestries hung from terraced buildings deep within the walls, past walkways and gardens. A pair of menacing gates loomed just in front of where the tram line ended, blocking the way in.

Auren almost thought he could see the outline of trees lining the courtyards. How big was this place? Every time he increased his mental estimation, it proved to be an undershot.

The entire population of the East Zellene Outpost and its associated suburbs could fit inside these walls, nestle their warehouses comfortably with room to spare.

And all of this space was occupied by a single academy!

Auren had never in his wildest dreams imagined coming here. Even as a child, his ambitions had been tempered by reality. When he dreamed of going to an academy, it was any standard classer training school, not… this.

Now, coming to it as an adult, someone who’d spent years working the same job, with the same people…

Auren shook his head, chuckling to himself. It felt even more magical now than if it had happened when he was a kid. A miracle. An opportunity.

One hand rubbed absently at the place where, a few hours ago, a monster had eaten a chunk of his body… a place unmarked and unscathed. Auren smiled. He was going to grab every last shred of potential from this place, take full advantage of whatever training he possibly could.

The rest of the group had already disembarked before Raden tapped Auren’s shoulder and pointed down towards the gates. “Come on, we’ve got to rush if I’m going to get you introduced to everyone before I need to be in class.”

Auren nodded and followed.

The gates were sprawling intricate workings of heavy black metal that shone in the moonlight—regularly maintained.

Two guards stood blocking the front of the gate, arms crossed as their eyes immediately went to Auren. Auren had to suppress the instinct to hide; the sheer glow of their presence was enough to tell at a glance that they were significantly stronger than him. E-Class perhaps? He couldn't quite tell.

Raden’s friends had already presented their identification—badges? Something small Auren couldn’t make out—and been waved through. Raden stepped forward to do the same.

All Auren had were his employment papers and government ID, albeit not with him at the moment, but the guard not busy with Raden shook his head before he could even start to explain. "You are not a student. You cannot enter.”

Raden glanced over and waved his hand dismissively. "He's entering with my permission."

The guard stared at Raden silently, then at Auren. “You’re vouching for this person?”

“He is under my personal protection,” Raden said airily. “And I’m going to be late for class.”

For a second, Auren was sure the guard would scoff and ask just what authority Raden had. Surprisingly, the guard nodded deeply instead while the other hurried to open the gate. "Understood, Young Master Raden."

Raden hurried inside, his friends splitting off in various directions.

Auren hesitated at the threshold. The broad cobblestone paths with their elegantly wavy retaining walls on either side, intricately woven sections of dark and light stone that made it look like they were braided into one another; decorative bushes grown into plump spheres or lush arbors, and so many trees that it looked like one of those marketing videos of a traditional forest… it was all so big. Intimidating. And he was a bloody mess at the moment.

“Auren, keep up.” Raden didn’t pause in his brisk stride. He’d crossed almost half the distance to the nearest building, about a quarter of the way to the central palace. 

Auren took a deep breath and stepped inside, feeling both nervous and excited, then ran to catch up to Raden. Raden glanced over at him with a grin, then sped up until Auren was barely keeping pace.

Before he could pass the younger man, they reached their destination. The branches in the path and outbuildings were small compared to the central palace.

The main entrance hall was so large and beautiful that it took his breath away. It was like being transported into a recruitment video from the Core Worlds, it was that fancy. Beyond anything he’d seen in his life.

The floor was mirror-smooth white marble veined with gold.

The ceiling boasted a chandelier made of crystals grown into intricate spirals, so clear and beautiful Auren wouldn’t be surprised if it was a gift from one of the Titan worlds. Something so beautiful must have been divinely crafted. How could such a thing be made by human hands?

The reception desk stood empty, a desk made of fine mahogany wood, the kind he'd only heard of and seen in ads or videos. Even the doors were finely polished, and the walls were painted a pure white.

The framed paintings were also remarkable. Their unique style of sharp angles and bold lines melded with soft gradients to depict wars, fights, and grand events… Auren was immediately drawn to their aura, as though they hid powerful messages he could discern if he looked hard enough.

Seeing him pause, lost in the surroundings, Raden turned back urgently. "You'll have plenty of time to admire this later, come on. I have to introduce you before I get to class."

Auren nodded, pushed aside his curiosity, and hurried after him. 

Raden led him beyond the hallway, through an archway, and down a vast staircase to unknown destinations.

Despite his haste, there was a flawless ownership to Raden’s stance; he looked and acted like he belonged. Watching him, Auren took a deep breath and corrected his own posture, adopting his confident stance. If he was going to pretend to be a third-form classer, he’d need to look the part. All one needed was confidence to blend in as if they belonged.

The stairways themselves were remarkable, turning up or down or doubling back on themselves. Each branch opened into a corridor leading to countless doors and rooms until Auren started to lose track of where they’d come from. It felt like a labyrinth. Only at the third flight of stairs did Raden pause and turn left.

A beautiful red carpet spanned the entire length of this corridor, and soft grey lights made it feel like daylight within. It was easy on the eyes. Paintings lined one side of the corridor, close enough to touch. On the other side, doors, each with a nameplate indicating a specific professor or teacher.

They finally reached one particular door. The nameplate read 'Academy Head Lord Keine' and was inscribed in gold rather than the black text used for the other teachers.

Auren blinked. Raden was taking him straight to the Academy Head? What? He'd expected to be taken to a normal professor, someone who could perhaps submit his application for admission and a scholarship.

Just how well-connected was this kid?

Before Auren could say anything, Raden shoved the door open without even bothering to knock.

The room itself was beyond grand. If the Academy was one thing, this room was a different beast entirely. Everything had gold linings. He could see artifacts he didn't recognize but were clearly extremely costly. The chandelier on the ceiling—because of course this room needed a chandelier; normal lights wouldn't suffice—featured gold candles.

Oddly enough, despite all the gold, none of it felt gaudy or overdone, all of it looked classy. The desk Lord Keine sat behind was dark with gold linings, and the man himself exuded elegance. With a neatly trimmed white beard and gray hair, he pulled off the salt-and-pepper look very well. He had red irises and was holding a gold-and-black patterned pen as he looked up and sighed at Raden. "What brings you here at this particular time?"

Auren would have thought him displeased by his tone alone, if not for the ghost of a smile hanging on his lips. Apparently he and Raden were close enough to dispense with pleasantries, even though the man’s soul strength was easily five or six times Raden’s.

It was all Auren could do to maintain a confident stance in his presence. Every instinct told him this man could crush him like a rat without a moment’s hesitation, without a chance of resistance.

He really, really hoped Raden knew what he was doing.

"I need you to admit my friend here," Raden declared. "Auren is a berserker from the south who’s been hunting abominations for training rather than subject himself to one of those ‘academies’ they have down there. And I promise you, his skill and dedication are definitely worth the wait! I personally witnessed him take down an abomination all by himself, using nothing but his class abilities and a broken pipe. I’ll swear it to all the titans, this man deserves a spot in our academy. You must admit him."

“You bring… a street mongrel into my academy.” Lord Keine raised an eyebrow, his expression narrowing in rage. “And you expect me… to admit him? Simply because you drag him in here, covered in blood and death?”

Raden’s excited confidence faltered. He took a step back, opening his mouth to start arguing—

Lord Keine raised a hand to silence him and turned towards Auren instead. “So, Berserker, I put it to you. This child is someone unused to how the world works. I understand why he has come with such an outrageous proposal. But you? You’re clearly old enough to know better. Where is your common sense? Do you seek to defile our grand halls with your blood today?”

Auren had mere moments to decide how to respond.

What would a berserker do?

Auren knew what a government hospice worker who'd barely escaped saddling himself with lifelong obligation to a dozen different gangs would do. He'd bow and flatter and go along without drawing a single moment's more attention to himself than absolutely necessary.

But would a hardened warrior, who roamed the wilds for fun and to improve his skills? Would someone that Raden would look up to, would introduce as a great warrior?

Auren didn't think so.

He might be about to make a terrible mistake. Perhaps he really was going to get himself smeared across the walls. But he'd gotten this far by taking bold and aggressive risks, so he may as well carry on as he'd begun.

"If that's what it takes," Auren answered, crossing his arms across his chest. He couldn't believe his voice held steady; he was barely able to think with someone this strong that close to him. "Of course, I only came here because Raden spoke so highly of your institution as an opportunity to increase my strength. If you aren't interested in teaching me I'll go back to fighting abominations on my own. I don't need the academy."

"Nor does the academy need you," Lord Keine bit back immediately.

“You know as well as I that potential is the most valuable currency in a student.” Auren stopped himself before saying he’d only gotten the class today and already fought a whole monster alone. As impressive as it would be, it would undermine the persona. "What would it take to gain your approval? Or do you judge me solely on my appearance and have no intention of letting me attend, no matter what?"

At this, Lord Keine smiled—a hint of a smile, more mocking than positive. "Your appearance and origin have nothing to do with it. As you say, potential is all that matters. So. You think you can pass my challenge?"

"What challenge is that?"

"Fight me," Lord Keine said, standing up. "I am a D-rank combat mage. If you manage to land a single hit on me—even just a scratch, even a single strand of my hair—I will admit you have what it takes to join this academy and grant you a temporary scholarship."

Two whole ranks between them.

Auren’s pulse was racing, the man’s sheer aura was insane. But what did he have to lose?

“Sure.” Auren said with a reckless grin. “That’s something I can do." And he leaped directly at Lord Keine.

The mage raised one hand, barely an inch, and the air around him whipped into motion. The desk he’d been sitting behind, along with all the documents on it, lifted just above the floor and flew to the edge of the room, clearing the center space. Raden hopped backwards with the wind snapping his shirt and blowing his hair,

At the same moment, Auren was bombarded by an explosive gale that felt like every gust had been sharpened into a blade. He took another step, ignoring the cuts opening and healing across his body, though the wind impeded his momentum to almost a crawl.

Even as the wind tried to push him back, he used his raw strength to surge forward, trying to reach the man. His knees and bones protested, but he managed to reach one hand out of the slashing sphere of wind—

Before Auren could touch his opponent, Lord Keine simply flicked one finger.

The wind in front of Auren turned from sharp and spinning to solid and impenetrable. Before he could even think how to react, the burst of air lifted him off the ground and flung him back against the doors of the room.

The doors didn't budge, sturdy as they were, but Auren felt his back let out a sharp crack. He forced himself to stand up anyway.

Lord Keine was smiling at him. His expression was no longer judgmental, but rather predatory. He was having fun with this. "Come at me, Berserker.”