Ardenhold CitySilvercrest Academy – Final Year, Class B
Cael was half-listening, elbow on the desk, cheek propped up on his palm, eyes unfocused as the lecture droned on.
"...The World Tree—Elder Solanari—sustains over four hundred thousand spiritual leaves. Each leaf is its own floating realm. Together, they form what we call the Spiritual Realms."
The instructor's voice was calm, professional, and dull as ever.
"You currently reside in the Vale of Taeron—a lower-tier realm spanning nearly twenty thousand square kilometers, with a population just above 1.5 million. Agriculture is its lifeblood.
"Graduation's not far off. Most of you will live and die in Taeron. If you don't start paying attention in Agronomics, don't blame me when you're digging ditches for a living."
A ripple of laughter broke out in the classroom.
Cael's seatmate, a girl named Rhea Quinn, gave him a sidelong glance. Her brows lifted slightly, like she was silently asking: Seriously? Not even pretending to focus?
She was striking, with sharp features and a presence far beyond her age. Still a bit flat-chested and gangly—but there was no doubt she'd grow into someone stunning.
Cael was about to say something back when his eyes shifted to her porcelain water cup sitting on the edge of the desk.
Then the ground trembled—just slightly.
It wasn't much. But it was enough.
The cup tipped. Rhea gasped.
Without thinking, Cael's hand shot out and caught the cup mid-air before it shattered on the floor.
Gasps filled the room.
"Whoa!"
"Careful!"
The instructor gripped the podium and called out, surprisingly calm, "Stay seated, everyone. That's likely turbulence from the upper atmosphere. The leaves of the World Tree sometimes shudder from strong wind currents. The barrier wards will stabilize soon."
He continued, "As many of you know, minor tremors happen daily across the lower realms. Most of them are so faint you'll never feel a thing. That one? Happens maybe once every few years."
As if on cue, the tremor stopped.
Cael placed the water cup back on the desk. "No big deal," he said with a shrug.
Rhea blinked. "How the hell did you catch that so fast?"
Cael just smiled.
In his mind, he whispered the trigger phrase:
"Eye of All-Seeing."
A faint, translucent screen flickered to life in his vision.
[Eye of All-Seeing]Reveals the hidden truths of reality.
Level 3. Increases mental energy cap by +3. Has a small chance to activate passively.Proficiency: 4 / 1000Mental Energy: 11.4 / 13.2
The skill had just passively triggered, giving him a split-second foresight of the tremor. Enough to react. Enough to look like magic.
And just like that—proficiency: +1.
Not bad.
But before he could enjoy the moment, the hallway erupted with hurried footsteps.
A voice echoed in: "Instructor Varin! There's been an accident in Class Six—three students down. They need help getting to the infirmary!"
Instructor Varin nodded briskly. "Self-study until I return!"
He left without another word.
The classroom buzzed with conversation the moment the door shut.
Rhea lifted her cup, gave it a gentle shake. "Still. Thanks."
Then, with a sly grin, she added, "I'll bring you breakfast tomorrow. Least I can do."
Cael didn't protest. "I won't say no to free food."
He turned back toward the window, gazing out at the horizon—a distant ocean of floating islands and glowing sky channels.
He couldn't help but mutter, "This world is so damn weird."
Rhea blinked. "What's weird about it?"
Cael thought for a moment, then gave a half-smirk. "For starters… I still don't understand why the sky gets bright during the day and dark at night."
She stared at him. "What do you mean? That's just... normal."
He shrugged, saying nothing more.
In his old world, back on a Earth, it orbited the sun & day and night were caused by rotation and revolution. There were shadows. There was a sun.
But here? He had lived over a year in this body, and not once had he seen a sun in the sky. Textbooks didn't mention it. And yet—daylight came. Darkness fell. And during the day, even with the brightest light above, there were no shadows cast.
No sun. No source.
Just light.
How was that normal?
A heavyset man strode into the room like a thunderclap.
The class snapped to attention.
This was Instructor Kaelus Thorne, the most intimidating man in the entire academy. Rumor said he once served in the Crimson Warden Guard—an elite warrior order known for turning people into walking weapons.
Kaelus scanned the room. "Agronomics is canceled," he barked. "Next period, too. Both are now replaced with meditation training."
The groans were immediate.
For most students, half an hour of forced meditation was hell. An hour and a half? Torture.
But no one dared speak against Thorne.
Soon, all forty-eight students were inside the Meditation Hall, shoes covered, voices gone. The chamber was lined with curved sound-absorbent tiles, muffling even the sound of breath.
Cael's ears twitched uncomfortably at the silence.
He wasn't surprised. He was used to noise, to movement. Silence like this made his skin crawl.
Instructor Thorne's voice cut through the stillness:
"To sense aether—the world's primal energy—you must first form a Sense Sigil within your mental sea. Statistics say one in thirteen ever manage it."
He paused, then continued.
"Among those, only one in sixteen evolves that sigil into a Bodymark, allowing their physical form to channel aether directly. We call these individuals Warriors."
A ripple of awe spread through the students.
Everyone wanted to be a Warrior.
At Silvercrest, the Headmaster and both Vice Principals were all retired Warriors from the Blacksteel Legion. Outside, most government leaders, city enforcers, and elite military units were staffed by former Warriors.
They weren't just strong. They ruled.
Thorne raised a hand.
"Over ninety-five percent of Warriors formed their Sense Sigil before the age of sixteen. You're all fourteen. Time's running out. I'll be tightening supervision from now on."
He gestured toward the meditation cubicles.
"Each of you will watch the Aether Wall inside, then begin meditation. Ten at a time. First group—step in."
A group entered.
The others waited outside, whispering.
"I heard Caden got forty-eight seconds last time. Arlen managed forty-six."
"They're definitely going to form a sigil before sixteen."
"I only got thirty-six seconds... No chance."
"I had thirty-eight. Still probably not enough."
In the corner, Caden and Arlen stood with smug confidence, basking in the envy of others.
Still, not everyone was so impressed.
"Even if you last long," someone muttered, "doesn't mean you'll form the sigil. A few kids last year held for over fifty seconds and still failed."
"Yeah. Duration isn't everything."
Cael said nothing. But his calm expression didn't change.
Most students hoped they could form the sigil.
He knew he would.
Six months ago, the Eye of All-Seeing had reached Level 2—adding a full point to his mental energy. Meditation had become easier.
Yesterday, it hit Level 3. Bonus mental energy jumped from +1 to +3.
And this was only the beginning.
Eventually, the skill would let him bend the world around him.
Warrior status?
Only a matter of time.
Because when you've got a cheat skill?
Genius doesn't mean much.