Kairos stood silently among the crowd, watching the other battles unfold with an unreadable expression. The moment he had stepped down from the dueling platform and melted into the audience, he felt it.
A change in the atmosphere.
The once-judging eyes that had followed him with doubt and indifference now regarded him with something close to respect—some even awe.
It was subtle, but it was there. Nods of acknowledgment, a few hesitant smiles, and murmured conversations that stopped the moment he looked in their direction.
He didn't need to guess. He knew.
So this is what defeating someone stronger does... he thought.
And not just someone stronger—someone no one believed he could beat. A member of a powerful faction.
But despite the shift in how others now saw him, Kairos remained unaffected. His eyes drifted back to the fighting rings, where other first-years tested their mettle. Yet even as his gaze followed their movements, his mind was elsewhere.
My summon... that voice, that intelligence—it's not normal.
'The voice and intelligence of my summon has gotten me stronger... I can learn and adapt to techniques as soon as I analyze them. That's a rare skill. I don't think anyone else has it. I can't tell anyone—not yet. This... this has to be my secret weapon.'
The thought gave him a thrill, but also a tinge of fear.
There was no record in any official document—or even rumored tales—of a summoner whose creature possessed such intellect. Let alone one that shared its knowledge, helped strategize, and elevated the summoner to a whole new level.
It would be a massive advantage if I could reveal it, get recruited into one of the big factions, or even the military. But... that's exactly why I can't. Not yet.
They wouldn't accept him. They'd dissect him.
If word got out about his summon's capabilities, he wouldn't be approached with contracts and smiles. No, they'd come with chains, scalpels, and mind probes.
Until Kairos reached a point where he could protect himself—and even rival the power of the factions—this secret was to remain his and his alone.
'Or...' he mused, a small smile tugging at his lips, 'I could build trust, get powerful and loyal friends around me... people who wouldn't betray me. That might work too.'
His thoughts were interrupted when his eyes locked on one of the fights—Darnell.
The battle had just begun, and in mere seconds, it was over.
Darnell had thrown his opponent clean off the platform with a single, seamless motion.
There was no doubt about it.
Darnell was the best Kairos had seen when it came to summon integration. Every movement was fluid, perfectly synced with his summon's instincts and power. He didn't just summon his beast—he became it.
[Shadow wolf likes good companions. Darnell has strong will,] a voice whispered in his mind.
Kairos blinked.
It was the shadow wolf, speaking again. The voice in his head wasn't just communicating—it was evolving, learning English faster with each passing moment.
Incredible... Kairos thought, his chest tightening slightly with pride—and fear.
---
Meanwhile...
In the upperclassmen sector of the military academy, tucked behind guarded walls and access-restricted doors, a large, dimly lit room hummed with technology. Dozens of monitors flickered across the walls, each streaming live footage from hidden cameras stationed across the academy grounds.
It was the eye of the academy. A control center.
And at this moment, its focus had narrowed.
Three second-year students sat inside, but their eyes were fixed on only one screen—the feed showing the first-years' sparring class.
"Wow," one of them chuckled, the sound twisted and dark. "There are a lot of monsters in this batch. That kid with the giant axe? Brutal."
A tall, pale boy stood beside him, holding a glowing digital tablet. He tapped it rhythmically, checking names and identities as each student fought.
But it was the boy seated in the center—tall, broad, his face shadowed by his hand—who held their attention.
Ashen Vale.
He wasn't just another student. He was the military's chosen executioner.
The one picked for this year's "orientation."
Ashen's fingers curled slightly over his mouth, his eyes never leaving the screen as it replayed the fight between Kairos and Rivet.
"That boy... the one who beat the faction brat," Ashen muttered, voice low and menacing. "Who is he? Does he belong to any faction or house? Any noble blood?"
The girl with the tablet frowned, scrolling rapidly. Then her eyes widened.
"Twice checked," she whispered. "He's... a nobody. No background. No known family. No affiliations. But his summon... it's listed as legendary."
A slow, cruel smirk spread across Ashen's lips.
"Is that so...?"
He leaned back in the chair, the leather creaking under his weight as he let out a breath that bordered on a laugh.
"Finally," he whispered, "the First Years' experience of this academy... will bleach black."
He rose from his seat like a beast unchained, stretching his arms with a pop of his knuckles. The room's temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.
"Tell the others to meet me in ten minutes," Ashen said coldly, turning away from the screen.
The girl nodded quickly, exiting the room without another word.
Ashen stood alone for a moment, staring at the monitor.
The figure on the screen—Kairos—was walking, oblivious to the new target painted on his back.
This wasn't just hazing.
This was a tradition, dark and cruel, passed down from year to year.
A secret rite where the second years would "break and reforge" the first years through calculated, harmful trials. The administration knew. The military sanctioned it, so long as the students learned to obey or suffer.
But Ashen—Ashen enjoyed it.
And this time, he had a new toy.
Strong summon. Smart. No protection.
Perfect.
"And what better way to get to the target..." Ashen murmured, his voice dropping to a hiss, "...than a friend he trusts?"
He smiled, a wicked curl of the lips that promised nothing short of agony.