CHAPTER 5 — The Heroes’ Academy
Asteria’s Military Academy looked nothing like anything Caelum had seen in the demon realm.
There was no black rock. No smoking torches. No blood-carved symbols. No corridors that seemed to swallow light. Everything here was designed to inspire order, pride, and belonging.
Tall walls of pale stone surrounded the complex. Watchtowers rose at strategic points. Banners bearing the kingdom’s emblem waved in the wind, visible from every angle of the central courtyard.
Asteria wanted its future soldiers to remember from the very first day who they were fighting for.
Caelum moved through the crowd of applicants with a calm, measured step.
He wore the academy’s basic uniform: a reinforced white tunic, a dark belt, simple boots. Nothing that stood out.
Nothing that drew attention.
Exactly as it should be.
Around him, youths his age whispered to each other, compared weapons, measured one another with their eyes. Some laughed nervously. Others tried to look confident.
Caelum watched them without being noticed.
Too loud.
Too confident.
Too transparent.
The demon realm had taught him something Asteria still didn’t fully understand:
True power didn’t need to announce itself.
“Formation!” a voice roared.
The murmurs died instantly.
The applicants lined up in perfectly straight rows across the massive training courtyard. At the front, a raised platform of white stone held several instructors.
Caelum lifted his gaze—
And for the first time since he crossed the portal, his pulse shifted.
There he was.
Taller.
Broader in the shoulders.
Hair now streaked with gray.
The man who had taught him how to hold a sword.
His former instructor.
One of the four great warriors of Asteria.
Caelum’s fingers tightened slowly.
So you’re still alive… Master.
The man stepped forward. His presence was firm, imposing, but never arrogant. When he spoke, his voice cut through the courtyard without the need for magic.
“Welcome to the Military Academy of Asteria,” he said. “Some of you will become soldiers.”
He paused.
“Most of you… will leave.”
Several applicants shifted uncomfortably.
“Today we won’t be training technique,” the instructor continued. “Today we evaluate something more important.”
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Another pause.
“Potential.”
A nervous murmur ran through the lines.
Caelum’s expression didn’t change.
So we start strong.
“Each of you will be tested,” the instructor said. “We don’t seek only strength. We seek control, composure, and the ability to react under pressure.”
He raised one hand.
“Divide into groups of ten.”
Caelum moved with precision, ending up in the third group. He quickly assessed the people around him.
A tall, muscular boy with a confident smile.
A girl with sharp eyes and a steady posture.
Several others… average.
None of them look extraordinary.
Perfect.
The groups were led to different areas of the field. Caelum’s group stopped before a stone circle carved with runes.
A secondary instructor waited for them.
“You will enter one at a time,” he explained. “The test is simple.”
He pointed at the circle.
“Survive for three minutes.”
A heavy silence fell over the group.
“Inside the circle, a training entity will materialize,” the instructor continued. “It cannot kill you…”
He smiled slightly.
“But it can knock you unconscious. Or worse.”
Several swallowed.
“Use whatever you have. Sword, magic, instincts. Anything goes.”
Caelum nodded internally.
Interesting.
One by one, the applicants entered.
The first—the muscular boy—lasted barely over a minute before he was slammed violently into the ground.
The second survived longer, relying on basic magic.
The sharp-eyed girl surprised the instructor, staying in constant motion, reading patterns.
Caelum watched everything.
Every movement.
Every mistake.
Every reaction.
They’re measuring more than strength.
They’re measuring the mind.
“Next,” the instructor ordered.
Caelum stepped forward.
Entered the circle.
The air changed.
The temperature dropped slightly. A shape began to form in front of him: a humanoid creature of dense energy, long limbs, pupil-less eyes.
Caelum raised his guard.
He didn’t release power.
He didn’t accelerate.
He showed nothing unnecessary.
The entity attacked.
Caelum avoided the first strike with a minimal step, twisting his torso just enough for the blow to miss. He blocked the second attack with his forearm, letting the force drain into the ground.
Strong, but predictable.
The creature attacked again—faster.
Caelum retreated, measuring every step.
He wasn’t trying to win.
He was trying to fit in.
He used his sword only when necessary. Simple cuts. Clean defense. Nothing spectacular.
From the platform, the instructors watched closely.
“He’s not flashy,” one commented. “But he doesn’t make mistakes.”
“He has good control,” another replied. “Too much for a novice.”
Caelum heard everything.
The entity launched a direct strike toward his torso. Caelum deflected it and used the opening to drive his sword into the core of its energy.
The creature disintegrated.
Silence.
“Time: two minutes and forty-five seconds,” the instructor announced. “Sufficient.”
Caelum lowered his sword and stepped out of the circle.
There was no applause.
No looks of amazement.
Only notes being written.
Perfect.
As he returned to his place, something caught his attention.
On the far side of the courtyard, a more advanced group trained under direct supervision.
Different uniforms.
Silver insignias.
Upper-rank cadets.
And among them—
Her.
Lyra.
The world narrowed.
Her chestnut hair now fell to her shoulders. She was no longer the small child who ran barefoot through castle corridors. Her posture was firm. Her gaze focused.
She was training with a sword.
Two ranks above.
Eighteen years old.
Caelum felt an unexpected pressure in his chest.
She’s alive.
That thought—simple and brutal—almost shattered his concentration.
Lyra spun, dodged an attack, and countered with a clean movement.
You train well.
For a moment, he feared she would look his way.
He stepped back.
Not yet.
He hadn’t come as a brother.
He had come as a spy.
The main instructor spoke again.
“Today’s results will determine your initial assignments,” he said. “Dormitories, squads, tutors.”
Caelum lifted his gaze.
This is where the real mission begins.
Build relationships.
Earn trust.
Access information.
And do it all… without revealing what he was.
As the applicants were guided toward the dormitories, Caelum felt a presence beside him.
“Good control,” a voice said.
He turned slightly.
The muscular boy watched him with curiosity.
“I’m Darius,” he continued. “You’re… Caelum, right?”
Caelum nodded.
“You don’t look strong,” Darius added. “But you don’t look weak either.”
Caelum allowed a faint smile.
“I guess that’s a good thing.”
Darius laughed.
“If you want to survive here, it better be.”
Caelum watched him walk away.
First contact.
As the sun began to descend over Asteria, Caelum paused for a moment in the courtyard.
He looked toward where Lyra was training.
She wasn’t looking at him.
Not yet.
But she was there.
And for the first time since he died…
The mission stopped being only an order.
It became personal.
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