Chapter 13: Lotius Academy

Chapter 13: Lotius Academy

A large caravan, built from dark oak and pulled by two sturdy horses, creaked along a rugged, stone-littered path. Each bump in the road sent a dull jolt through the frame, the wooden wheels groaning in protest.

Inside, a young boy with pale blond hair sat near a small window. He stared into the passing blur of trees and hills, lost in thought. His mind wandered restlessly, slowing only when a sudden jolt from the wheels forced him back to the present.

Without warning, the caravan came to a halt.

"We're here!" a voice called from outside, followed by the thud of someone dismounting the horse.

Ares stood up from his seat, pushed open the caravan door, and jumped down. The cool air greeted him, sharp and fresh. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he landed.

He scanned his surroundings.

His gaze was immediately drawn to a massive, ominous wall rising before him. Built from white, polished stone, it towered at least three meters high and stretched so far in both directions that its ends vanished from his sight.

His eyes followed the wall until they landed on an enormous gate—bars of golden metal glinted beneath the sun. It shimmered like something from a dream.

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In front of the gate stood groups of young people dressed in sharp black uniforms trimmed with silver ornaments.

Students.

Ares watched them for a few moments, quiet and still, then turned his attention elsewhere.

Beyond the gate, nestled against the wall, were rows of stalls, small inns, and makeshift shops—an entire community bustling with life. Traders shouted out deals, cooks stirred steaming pots, and the clatter of tools echoed through narrow alleyways.

There was a stark contrast between the students and the people outside the wall. One group walked with purpose and privilege. The other moved with the weight of survival on their shoulders.

Ares stepped forward, making his way toward the golden gate. He stopped just before it, eyes fixed on the towering structure, its brilliance almost blinding under the midday sun.

It had been four years since his mentor, Nicholas, left the village—and just as long since the letter of recommendation arrived, bearing the seal of the prince himself.

At first, Ares had no intention of attending the Academy, especially with the prince's suspicious endorsement. But after relentless pressure from his mother, he finally gave in.

There was also the matter of his progression.

In those four years, he had reached the second stage of the Intermediate Rank—a remarkable feat for someone his age. But for Ares, it wasn't enough. He'd been stuck at that rank for two years now, unable to push forward.

The natural rate of mana absorption was far too slow.

He needed challenges—real challenges. The kind he would never find in his small village.

He had thought of joining a guild and taking on missions, but his age made that option impossible. Neither his mother nor any guild would allow someone this young to join.

Ares sighed, the weight of frustration settling in his chest. Whatever waited for him beyond that gate, it was his only path forward now.

With a final breath, he squared his shoulders and stepped toward the Academy's reception.

"Welcome to Lotius Academy. How can I help you?" a young receptionist asked, her voice polite and practiced.

"I'm here for my admission meeting."

"Name?" she inquired, picking up a thick band of papers from her darkwood desk.

"Ares."

She flipped through a few pages, her eyes scanning quickly—until she suddenly stopped. Her gaze widened slightly, then brightened into a wide smile.

"Ahh, yes, of course. Please follow me. I'll take you to the Headmaster personally," she said, already rising from her chair and walking around the desk toward him.

"This way," she added, her heels clicking against the marble floor of the Academy's grand hall.

She navigated the corridors with practiced precision, each turn confident and unhesitating. Before long, they arrived at a large double door with a polished plaque mounted above it—Headmaster.

"Please have a seat. The Headmaster will call you in when he's ready," she said, then turned gracefully and walked back the way she came.

Ares sat in one of the many chairs lined neatly against the wall. He frowned slightly, his gaze drifting across the empty hallway.

"Shouldn't there be countless applicants? Where is everybody?"

Before the thought could fully take shape, the heavy wooden doors groaned open.

Ares looked up.

In the doorway stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with short gray hair. His presence was commanding, his sharp eyes scanning the hall with quiet intensity.

"Ares," he called, his voice booming with authority.

"Please, come in," he added before turning and disappearing back into the room.

Ares didn't hesitate.

He rose and stepped inside the vast office.

Unlike the marble floors that lined the rest of the Academy, the Headmaster's office was laid with a dark red carpet. The walls were adorned with paintings and embedded with precious metals that caught the light in subtle glimmers.

At the far end of the room, near tall windows draped in velvet, stood a massive desk. Like the receptionist's, it was made of darkwood—but this one was thicker, broader, and significantly more imposing.

Behind it sat the Headmaster, his sharp gaze fixed on Ares as the boy approached and took a seat across from him.

"I'm Headmaster Vyron," he said, folding his hands. "I don't usually take the time to personally review admissions, but your application caught more than a few eyes... Not many your age reach the Intermediate Rank."

Ares gave a slight nod, unsure how to respond.

"Of course," Vyron continued, his gaze narrowing, "The Academy will need to verify your claims..."

His eyes searched Ares's face, as if trying to read any hidden intentions.

Ares reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, the wax seal already broken. Without a word, he stretched it across the desk.

Vyron took the envelope, his initial movements slow and deliberate—until his eyes caught the seal. Then his fingers moved faster, unfolding the letter within.

His eyes darted across the page. With every line, his expression shifted—surprise, then curiosity, and finally something closer to disbelief. When he finished reading, his gaze lifted and locked onto Ares.

This time, he didn't just look at the boy. He stared at him.

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