Towards the academy

Seeing the soldier who was supposed to guide them, Paul lost all desire to joke.

"Follow me." growled the soldier. He suddenly turned away and started to walk. He was a head taller than his parents, and his arms were twice as big as normal ones. Worse: his head was shaved to leave only a hairline in the middle.

'A public punishment,' Paul thought. 'He's not clean.'

Paul turned to his left and whispered:

"Adrien, that guy..."

He didn't finish his sentence; Adrien had already left. Paul hurried towards his right.

No one.

Cold chills poured from his body. He frightenedly looked around, searching Adrien.

'Dark hair, short size, with a sword and bags on the back of its belt.'

His eyes gained brightness. There he was, just behind the soldier, followed by his brother, slowly beginning to be hidden by the crew of teenagers moving. Paul sped up forward and joined them.

"Adrien," Paul whispered from behind, "I don't feel it. Do we really have to follow him?"

"And what else do you want to do?" Adrien replied, exasperated, not even turning to face him.

There was a silence, and then Paul said:

"But, I mean... his arms, his hair..."

Humans couldn't beat beasts with their bodies; they only trained them to resist their own mana. Bandits, on the other hand...

"That should be fine," reassured Valentin, his twin brother, in a soft voice. Like him, he had brown hair and eyes, but he held himself straight, fearless. Why was there such a difference between them? They had been bought by Adrien's father for this moment; to be friends and aids to his son.

'I need to calm myself.' Paul thought. 'The past is long gone.' If their parents let them go, it should be fine, right?

He took deep breaths, trying to ignore that Valentin was unconsciously touching his sword.

The soldier led them through small, dark alleys, prompting Paul's desire to turn back.

Minutes later, they arrived at the city's gates. There, a dozen caravans were waiting for them.

"Get in." Ordered the soldier. "We're leaving for the academy right now."

***

The caravan in which the trio had boarded consisted of two wooden benches, each accommodating five people. In the middle, near the curtain separating them from the caravanner, was a box where a soldier was sitting, a spear between his two legs, half asleep, supporting his head with his hand. He seemed only a few years older than their 12.

'A new recruit?' Adrien thought. 'Better this way.'

He closed his eyes, willing his soul to his eyes, then inspected the room. No strangeness affected mana. The recruit was only exhausted, and the box a classic one.

Entrances and exits from the academy were closely surveilled, but that didn't prevent smuggling from prospering. Plus, having goods allowed aristocrats kids to grab more easily talented teenagers.

'This must only be non-magical stuff.' Adrien thought regretfully. He wished it was something serious. That recruit would be in charge of them, and blackmailing him could have game him more liberties.

Silence reigned, allowing Adrien to finalize his plans.

With his talent and knowledge, he only needs time to succeed. All teenagers would need to stay a year at the academy, which assured protection. Then, he would try to either stay or find an organization that would protect him.

He wasn't strong. Strength was divided from rank 0 to rank 5, and he had reached the fifth level in his past life, but he'd die to a rank 1 all the same. And injuries were the worst things that could happen to him.

Be it body talent, soul level, or understanding, it didn't mean anything on your strength. With enough time, even the less talented would become a rank 5. But their lives would end way before, as cultivation was an open road in which the cultivator had to forge its own path. Each error or wound would make them need more time to progress further.

For this reason, he won't fight until rank 4; you just never controlled a battle, you only made preparatives and hoped chances wouldn't let you down. And while strengthening himself, he will have to make allies in the government.

His eyes turned to his servants.

Their poor talents were an advantage: the government would think it could easily control them with mana resources.

They would just need a minimum of strength, his help, and enough political competencies.

'In short, it all comes down to my ability to teach.'

He had never done it, and a teenager was unlikely to be really interested...

Sunlight passed through the thin fabrics of the caravan's roof.

He suddenly wondered about the Red Star and why it had helped him escape. The old civilization - the one without mana - made the appearance of mana coincide with the entrance of the red star. If it had really wanted to, couldn't it have just exterminated them? Was it a whim? A test? Or to settle a situation that wasn't supposed to happen?

The strength they had surpassed the fifth rank...

A thud shook the earth; The caravan suddenly stopped. The soldier's eyes opened.

"Don't make another sound!" Said the soldier hurriedly, staring at them with a piercing but trembling gaze.

The shocks became regular, making the carriage sway.

'A huge beast with low vision.' Adrien thought. 'The vibrations of its weight must help it find its way.'

Adrien looked around peacefully. The teenagers were petrified, looking in his direction, where the noise came from, seeing only cloth. Paul had his hand over his mouth, sweat dripping from his forehead, looking down.

The noises got closer. The soldier whispered something, his head down - almost as if talking to himself - his voice on the verge of madness, and his body trembled:

"The first one who makes a sound, I'll kill him. I swear I kill him."

The noises seemed so close now. A matter of tens of meters. Adrien was surprised to see his body trembling.

'How cute they are. They really prepare the scene well for excellent talents.'

A howl of pain rang out.

The soldier raised his head and hurried to the exit.

"Get out! They've arrived!"

The group exited the caravan. There, they saw a monster about thirty feet tall, with legs the size of several humans, big ears, and a large mouth, screaming constantly, showing teeth half their height.

A hundred figures surrounded it, their swords digging into its flesh every second, blood pouring out with madness cries. They climbed the beast, trying to get on its back.

The beast struggled, stamping its feet in fear and hate. The ground shook, becoming shape with marks of its paws.

The fight continued for about thirty seconds. Then, feeling more than thirty humans on its flanks and a few on its back, it let itself fall over.

The rest continued to attack without respite. The beast struggled to get up. But when it did, there was no sign of the thirty soldiers.

The fight continued for two long minutes.

Of the hundred or so fighters, less than thirty remained.

"And that's only for a rank 1 beast." The soldier who accompanied them said unconsciously.

The teenagers swallowed their saliva.

"Go! Quickly!" he said, his face still troubled. "Go back to the caravan."

'I'll have to get them used to real fights.' Adrien thought. They were only avatars, not real people. Only 50 deaths or less would have been necessary if they had been fighting with their bodies.

'No, with a real strategy, maybe only 35.'

They wanted to terrify them. The first year of the academy wasn't to train them but to make them accept their future: they were going to prove to them over and over again the dangers of being a soldier, thus legitimizing their advantages.

'But only small and mediocre minds refuse the path of longevity,' Adrien thought, a dark look crossing his face, which he immediately hid.