Krion stepped through the t archway into the Amphitheater of Indu. As he did so he was startled to find his greatsword was suddenly no longer with him. With no obvious expnation, he could do nothing but tinue ahead, hoping that it would be returned somehow ter. The low murmur of hundreds of voices washed over him like a tide. The sheer size of the chamber was staggering. Above, a colossal dome of shimmering gss allowed sunlight or starlight to flood in, depending oime of day. Around the periphery of the chamber were pilrs of gold and obsidian, in which were carved yet more of the bas-reliefs Krion had seehe Waystation. Young nobility filled rows upon rows of seats, which were crafted from the same marble that had been used in some of the buildings he had passed on the way here, and all spiraled down toward a tral stage. The stage itself was a moal sb of stone, inid sigils that even Krion could sense humming with tent energy, but for urpose, he was not sure.

  Looking around, he began to feel a bit nervous. All the rows he entrance from which he had entered were already full. Everywhere he looked, he tried to spot an ope.

  Nothing.

  He began to feel nervous. The thought of standing out — or worse, being forced to sit in the aisle — started gnawing at him.

  A voice cut through the chatter, calling out softly nearby.

  Krion turo see a young noble boy with striking blue hair and round gsses. The boy was gesturing toward Krion and then to the front of the Amphitheater of Indu. Following where he ointing, Krion could see a cluster of unoccupied seats he floor-level se. The boy met his gaze when Krion turned back, then mouthed clearly, “There.”

  Krion blihen nodded, mouthing back, “Thank you.” Maybe not all nobles here would be like those he had already entered. Perhaps there were some who could possibly bee trustworthy allies and friends.

  The boy smiled faintly before returning his attention to those sitting near him who had animatedly started an argument of some sort.

  Krion walked forward down the gently sloping aisle. As he moved, Krion began to notice how all the nobles around him — many around his owhough some were noticeably younger — sat in clusters. The bodyguards, escorts, and attendants had all bee outside, likely due to what the Sentinel, J-65, had said about this space bei only for those members of the nobility who would be enrolling in the Imperial Academy. Without the entes they had arrived with, the nobles appeared smaller somehow to Krion.

  As Krion tinued moving in the dire of the floor seating, his eyes caught on ay se he front that had the Bcksword crest pinly visible. Four other ses that spread out to the right of the Bcksword seating had the crests to what Krion assumed to be the other four Archducal houses that had ss enrolling this year.

  As Krion moved closer to the front, the murmurs around him grew louder. Students sitting in the upper and middle rows turo stare as he passed. Whispers floated through the air, some hushed, others less so.

  “Who is that?”

  “Isn’t that the Bcksword crest?”

  “I didn’t know anyone from House Bcksword was ing this year, what with—”

  “—those scars. What happeo him?”

  Krion ighe ents as best he could, keeping his steps measured and his expressioral as he made his way down to the floor seating. He was used to the whispers right now. He had made his peace with the fact that the scars that marked his face were not easily ignored, but he was still curious as to why he tio attrauch attention.

  He finally reached the floor level, where the five distinct ses he had seen radiated outward from the tral stoform like the spokes of a wheel. Closer to them, he could now clearly see how each set of two rows was marked by banners representing the five Archducal Houses he had been told about. The Bcksword banner hung over the seating to the left, but uhe other ses at this level, it made him nervous.

  The se was entirely empty, its rows of seats pristine and untouched.

  Krion’s jaw tightened as he stepped into the space. The silen the immediate viity was deafening pared to the growing buzz in the rest of the Amphitheatre of Indu. Sliding into the first row of seats, Krion sat upright, shoulders square, trying his hardest to ighe weight of tless eyes on him.

  Across the floor, Krion could see out of the er of his eye students in the seating of the other four Archducal ses ing their necks to get a better look at him. Much like those he had already passed, a few of the nobles whispered amongst themselves.

  “—he alone? No one else from Bcksword?”

  “Look at his face. It’s covered in—”

  “—surprised they sent anyone, givehing that has been happening to House Bcksword, especially—”

  “I ’t wait to put him where he truly belongs.”

  That st voice dripped hostility, but even shifting slightly in his seat to get a better glimpse of the other nearby ss was not enough to help him identify who had spoken. Turning more fully, he met their gazes briefly, f his expression to remain calm. Whatever expectations they had of him — whether because of his scars, his isotion, or his House — he would do whatever he could to make sure he would meet them on his own terms. No more would he just react to whatever came his way.

  The muttering grew louder despite occasional attempts to hush it. Krion tile to make out most of what was being said, but the tone was clear enough. He tio force his back straight and ched his knees with his hands. Trying to ignore what was being said as much as possible, Krion forced himself to focus on the tral ptform rather than the sea of nobility around him. Even then he could still hear some of those not b to keep their voices down.

  Krion exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. His scars might invite specution, but he was finding it hard to find their ignora their cause anything but amusing. What even was a Dusselgras? Whatever, it did not matter. He was there for a reason, and as soon as this indu ceremony, whatever it was, finished, he would be able to move on to what actually mattered: getting stronger.

  Though the tral stage remaiy, the faint hum of what he assumed to be magic of some sort was beginning to pick up. Something signifit was likely about to begin. As he settled deeper into his seat, the energy in the air seemed to swell again. The murmurs grew into a hum of activity.

  Then, the air shifted.

  From an archway at the rear of the stage, a figure strode forward, and the remaining whispers died away like a fme smothered by wind. The figure had an intangible presence about him. He moved with a deliberate, ominous grace, heavy bck armor that gleamed with a faiallic sheen uhe light. Strapped across his back was a massive, wickedly serrated two-handed sword, the very sight of which caused a ripple in the nobility behind Krion as a chill swept through the assembled students.

  The man’s face was fully obscured by a white mask streaked with crimson lines, as though painted with blood. The red streaks radiated from the mask’s eye slits and mouth, atuating the air of mehat hovered around him like a cloak. Every step he took echoed in the vast Amphitheater of Indu.

  He stopped at the ter of the stage, his halt anding absolute silence. His gaze — or what Krion could feel of it beh the mask — swept over the gathered ranks of nobility, lingering on each of the Archducal ses as if weighing them. When he finally spoke, his voice was deep and resonant, amplified by the stage itself to carry effortlessly throughout every er.

  “I am the Lord Sentinel,” he began, his tone grave. “Leader of the Sentinels of this branch of the Imperial Academy. My duty is simple: to ehe bance of power within these hallowed grounds and to punish those who viote the sacred rules of the Empire.”

  He shifted, his sword king faintly against his armor. “You are here because you are ss of the Empire’s nobility. Whether your bloodlines are a or newly risen, your presen this Amphitheater of Indu is no act. Each of you carries the weight of the Empire’s future upon your shoulders. As future lords and dies, your duty is not merely to yourselves or your families by the Empire as a whole.”

  Krion sat straighter, the gravity of the Lord Sentinel’s words sinking in. Around him, students g one another, some nodding, others visibly nervous uhe iy of the speech.

  “The Empire is vast,” the Lord Sentinel tinued, “stretg across worlds, bound by ws older than yrandfather’s grandfathers and maintained only by the strength of the noble houses. It is not enough to i your titles or nds. You must earn them. Prove that you are worthy to lead. Prove that you have the strength, the intelligence, and the resolve to guide those who will one day call you lord or dy.”

  The Lord Sentinel paused, letting the weight of his words settle. Then, with a faint ine of his head, he added, “How far you rise, how much you achieve, will depeirely on you. The Imperial Academy offers unparalleled opportunities. Here, you will learn, grow, and fe bonds — or rivalries — that will shape your futures. But know this: nothing will be given to you. Everything must be earned.”

  Krion’s heart thudded in his chest. He khat the Imperial Academy would be challenging, but the sheer expectations id out by the Lord Sentinel ratcheted up the pressure still further. He would o focus extra hard in the days and weeks ahead to figure out his best options to get ahead.

  The Lord Sentinel’s gaze swept the Amphitheater of Indu again, lingering once more on the ss seated at the front. Krion could feel the weight of his attention, even if the man’s face remained hidden. “To ehat you are worthy of this pce, the first task before you will be to unlock your birthrights.”

  A murmur of sound rippled through the gathered nobility, but it was quickly silenced by the Lord Sentinel raising a gaued hand.

  “Each of you, if truly nobility, carries within your blood the tent potential of your lineage,” he said. “This potential is both a privilege and a responsibility. Unlog it is not merely a ceremonial act; it is the foundation upon which your education will be built. Some of you may even experience ges — physical, mental, or otherwise. Do not fear them. They are simply a part of the ceremony to unlock your truest self.”

  Krion frowned slightly, his mind spinning with questions. ges? While he had expected to gh something here, he had not expected any ges like the Lord Sentinel was hinting at. Whatever was about to happen, it was clear that this would not be a quick recitation of words.

  “That being said, the process is not without risk,” the Lord Sentinel tinued, his voice more unyielding. “Some of you may find this more difficult than others. But rest assured, the Imperial Academy is prepared to guide you through it.”

  The Lord Seepped forward, his sword once more shifting slightly on his back. “This ceremony is only the beginning. Here at the Imperial Academy, you will need what you gain today in order to survive challehat will push you to your limits and beyond. But for those of you who seek power withard for the ws of the Empire…” His voice dropped, cold and sharp as the bde on his back. “You will ao me.”

  As the Lord Sentinel finished his speech, he took one final sweeping look across the gathered nobility. “Remember this moment,” he said. “Today marks the beginning of your journey in service to the Empire. How it ends is entirely up to you.”

  The heavy bck armor he wore shifted with a metallic groan as the Lord Sentinel lifted his left hand high. A tense, anticipatory energy surged through the air. Then, with a sudden, violeure, he thrust his arm downward.

  A shockwave of silent sound and cold heat rippled through the Amphitheater of Indu, rattling the very stones beh their feet. From the ter of the stage, the ground seemed to crack apart, revealing a massive crystallier that erupted upward with an ear-splitting screech of grinding stone aal. The altar was unlike anything Krion had ever seen. Its facets shimmered with an otherwordly brilliance, and as it settled into pce, green fmes sparked and roared to life at its apex. The eerie light cast flickering shadows across all the gathered nobles.

  The sight was both mesmerizing and terrifying for Krion. The green fmes seemed alive, pulsing with a rhythm that felt almost se, as though it was the alter itself watg the gathered nobles now.

  Attention shifted again as the Lord Seepped forward, his t frame casting a long shadow. “This,” he said, his voiow low and reverberating with an almost unnatural weight, “is an Altar of the Foresworn. It is here that your noble heritage will be id bare. Your bloodline’s power, your potential, and yht to stand among the elite of the Empire will be revealed. And you will be bound to both the Emperor and the Empire.”

  A murmur spread through the students, but not about being bound to the Emperor and the Empire. Except for Krion, they had all grown up being told about the expectations made for their futures. Krion’s hands ched at the armrests of the chair, his scars itg under his new uniform. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or something deeper, but he felt a strange pull toward the altar, as though it was calling to him personally.

  The Lord Sentinel raised his sword high, the wickedly jagged bde glinting in the green light. “The fmes of the Empire are eternal,” he said, his toh reverent and anding. “They will burn away weakness, fe strength, and reveal the truth about yourselves. Beginning with the Knights, step forward and prove that you are worthy by reag into the fmes.”

  The gathered nobles sat frozen, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all. Krio his breath qui as he heard those he entrance climbing to their feet to obey the and that still rang throughout the Amphitheater of Indu.

  The Lord Sentinel gestured violently toward the Altar of the Foresworn once more. The green fmes fred higher, frantically pig up the pace at which they danced over the stage.

  “Let the ceremony begin.”

  There you have it, things are starting to take off. chapter will have some of those amazing litrpg stats, so stay tuned!

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