The reason for the combatants’ stunned silence was rooted in the impossible message they had just received, an encrypted priority alert sent directly from the Federation’s military headquarters, marked with the signature seal of the Silver Marshal herself.
"Effective immediately, Cadet Leon Kael has been promoted to the rank of Combatant. He is to take command of the unassigned cadets Adrian Peer, Eleanor Clarke, and Eden Feran as his personal squad under Unit 01. All combatants are to stand down and acknowledge his rank and authority. His orders come with direct approval from Vanguard Rebecca and are not to be questioned. This is a standing military directive."
Combatant Michael Vance’s mouth slowly dropped open as his gaze returned to Leon, who stood there completely unaware of the chaos his name had just stirred.
"This... this can’t be real," Michael muttered under his breath.
"Promotion... to Combatant... on the day of deployment?"
The other combatants whispered among themselves, some wide-eyed, others furrowing their brows in disbelief. For them, this was unprecedented. Even the most gifted prodigies, those hailed as future generals, took months, sometimes a year, to rise to the rank of Combatant after proving themselves in the field.
The path to promotion in the Federation’s military was like ascending a mountain made of steel and fire, a climb that ground down the weak and tested the spirit of the strong. It wasn’t just a matter of strength; it demanded leadership, grit, honor, and battlefield experience. The ten ranks of the military, Cadet, Combatant, and all the way to the Supreme Warden, were designed to weed out the unworthy.
For someone like Leon to skip the first step entirely was almost as difficult as achiving "Enlightenment." It was practically heresy to military tradition.
And yet... the message was real.
Their thoughts were interrupted by the very source of their disbelief.
Leon clicked his tongue, folding his arms as he tilted his head. His voice was sharp with impatience.
"Are you guys gonna keep staring or are you gonna explain what’s going on?"
He had been standing there for almost five minutes now, ignored like background scenery while the combatants processed the message.
Leon was starting to think he might’ve made the wrong choice choosing this base.
"Is this how soldiers act here?" he thought, irritated.
"They’re looking at me like I’m a bamboo statue."
That was when Michael Vance finally snapped out of his daze.
He straightened his back instantly, his demeanor changing from rigid soldier to one of professional respect, as if speaking not to a cadet, but to a peer.
"Apologies... Combatant Leon."
The room fell into stunned silence.
The word echoed off the walls like a thunderclap.
Every cadet in the room blinked in disbelief. Some gasped. Others turned slowly toward Leon with wide eyes. Adrian and Eleanor exchanged a glance. Eden’s eyebrows lifted comically in stunned disbelief.
But none were more shocked than Leon himself.
"Combatant?" Leon said aloud, blinking.
He looked around in genuine confusion, as if expecting someone to say it was a joke. No one did.
Because for the first time in the Federation’s history, a cadet had been promoted to officer rank before his first mission.
And his name... was Leon Kael.
Combatant Michael Vance felt a sense of satisfaction rise in his chest as he caught the initial look of surprise flicker across Leon’s face.
"Yh, he’s just a kid after all," he thought with smug certainty. "Even monsters bleed when cut... This much attention must’ve shaken him."
"Just Combatant?" Leon muttered, blinking. "I thought it would be higher."
The entire room went silent.
It was as if a switch had been flipped and the air thickened with disbelief.
Every cadet. Every combatant. Every breath froze mid-motion. Even the buzzing lights above seemed to dim for effect.
"Sorry, Combatant Leon, what did you just say?" he asked slowly, unsure if he had heard right.
Leon scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin, the picture of innocent mischief.
"Oh, no offense. I just thought I’d be given a higher rank," he said casually.
He didn’t add what he was truly thinking
"Because I’m way stronger than all of you", but that restraint didn’t soften the blow one bit.
It hit every combatant like a gut punch.
Michael’s brows twitched.
Another combatant clenched their jaw, "Who does this brat think he is?"
One scoffed internally, "Back in my day, no one would dare say that aloud. What happened to humility?"
Another rubbed their forehead, "This generation is doomed. Absolutely doomed."
And then one... very different combatant, the only woman in the room, blushed.
"OMG... he looks so handsome when he’s cocky..."
The tension was like a ticking bomb, but it was Michael’s voice that defused it just in time, though his tone had noticeably cooled.
"Sorry if you’re disappointed, Leon," Michael said pointedly, intentionally dropping the title Combatant.
"I don’t know what you did or what strings you pulled to get promoted," he continued, keeping his posture upright but his displeasure sharp, "but in the military, time, sacrifice, contribution, and experience are what move you forward. Not just privilege."
The message was clear: You’re a child with a shortcut, not a soldier who earned it.
Michael had already made up his mind, this promotion wouldn’t last.
"He’ll be demoted within the week," he thought. "A little pressure, a few real missions and he’ll crumble like all the other pampered elites."
But Leon didn’t seem fazed at all.
He didn’t react to the missing title. He didn’t even bristle at the passive-aggressive accusation.
It wasn’t arrogant. It wasn’t naive.
It was the calm, unshakable confidence of someone who had already endured more than any of them could imagine.
"This is better," Leon thought to himself. "Let them underestimate me. That way, when I crush expectations, the respect I earn will be real... not handed to me by a title."
"As Father always says... ’Action speaks louder than words.’"
Then, casually, dangerously casually, Leon spoke again.
"So the problem is time, huh? Okay," he said, tilting his head with a grin.
Michael’s instincts screamed danger.
"I guess that just means... I’ll get my next promotion in a few weeks," Leon finished with a shrug.
A vein visibly pulsed on Michael’s forehead.
Behind Leon, Adrian, Eden, and Eleanor slowly took a step away from him, as if the blast radius was already forming and they wanted no part in it.
Michael stared at Leon.
Leon smiled back like he just made a friendly wager instead of declaring war on their entire military hierarchy.
And just like that, the room was no longer judging Leon.
Now... they were watching him.
Waiting to see if he could back up the storm he just unleashed.