The noise didn't die down—it grew, spreading through the camp as more people turned to look, trying to process what they were seeing.
"I mean, only Sequence 2 predators drop soul cores," one of them said, still staring. "That's why everyone's carrying fangs and horns."
"And even then…" another added, voice lowering, "that's an actual soul core. Not some fox fangs or ears. Which means he had the majority of the contribution in the kill…"
The girl slowly handed it back, her fingers lingering for a moment.
"You're really… something," she said quietly. "You're the second person I've seen in Class D with a soul core so far."
"You're really impressive…" she said, a small smile forming now, a lot more confident than before. "We should… hang out more. Get to know each other."
Lian nodded casually with a smile. "Yeah, sure. Let's be friends."
I guess being strong is her type, are people really this shallow?
The girl tilted her head, curiosity slipping through her earlier composure.
"So… how did your team manage to kill those foxes?"
The bullies weren't done.
"Yeah, right," one of them scoffed. "He had two Class A members in his team. Obviously they did most of the work."
"Exactly," another added quickly. "He just got lucky."
Lian glanced at them, watching their pathetic attempts to cling to relevance even after getting completely mogged by him.
Lian shrugged, like it wasn't worth much attention.
"It wasn't anything crazy," he said. "We got chased by a bunch of foxes for a few hours… ended up getting lost in some cave."
A few people leaned in closer.
"Two of my teammates held them off. Gave me an opening." He gestured casually. "I burned one down. After the big one died, the rest got easier."
Lian said with a casual shrug. "So yeah… teamwork, I guess."
"We were starving for like two days too after getting lost." Lian added
A few nodded, that part at least sounding real enough to shut down more questions.
Lian didn't linger. He picked up his tray and dropped it off near the return counter.
As he turned—
he noticed a commotion outside the tent.
Voices louder than before.
Something was happening.
Lian slipped behind the crowd to get a better look.
At the center stood Aren, just back from patrol after making sure all the teams had regrouped safely to the camp.
And in his hand was a soul core.
But not just any.
A Sequence 3 core.
Whispers spread through the crowd—someone said it belonged to a lightning wolf.
Even if lightning wolves were considered the lower end of Sequence 3 predators, killing one as a student was beyond extraordinary.
From where he stood, Lian caught a glimpse of it. It looked similar to his Sequence 2 fox core… just a bit larger and denser.
And inside—
tiny, frozen sparks of electricity flickered like trapped lightning, pulsing beneath the surface.
Lian's thoughts drifted as he watched the lightning wolf core shimmer in Aren's hand.
What exactly are these soul cores?
Religious texts said that when a living being dies, its soul is purified and leaves for a higher realm—transcendence or reincarnation—while its impurities are left behind, solidifying into a soul core.
Science, on the other hand, called it something else entirely.
A physical condensation of ether.
Energy that once circulated through every living organism, and when death stopped that flow, it collapsed inward and crystallized into a core.
There are few religions that believed something like the split soul of the life force remained trapped inside the core, especially the darker, more malicious part of it.
I don't really believe something like a "soul" exists, at least not the way religions describe it.
But if I die, I obviously wouldn't leave behind a soul core—not because I'm a transmigrator or anything like that, but simply because I'm not Sequence 2 yet. I haven't formed a core in the first place.
Even humans can produce soul cores, though it's rare. Most of the time, if a human core is ever recovered, the government confiscates it and incinerates it in a religious temple, or uses it for research if the person had signed consent prior to their death.
Owning a human soul core is strictly illegal.
But one thing everyone agreed on—religion, science, even the conspiracy theorists—was that soul cores were somehow connected to ether cores.
Everything else… was interpretation layered on top.
Sequence 1 beings—whether human or beast—didn't drop soul cores at all.
At Sequence 2, cores began to form. Human cores tended to be slightly larger than those of predators at the same stage.
But at Sequence 3, something shifted. Predators produced larger cores, while human cores became more compressed instead.
Lian observed all of it quietly.
And then a clearer thought formed.
Sequence labels… don't actually mean anything fundamental.
They weren't laws of nature.
Just human-made benchmarks. Convenient markers to categorize power, progression, and even ascension.
A naming system built to describe how strong or dangerous something is.
Even the ascension methods weren't anything sacred.
Compressing the core, expanding the already compressed core, or the standard human method of forming one in the first place—each of them were just different man-made techniques.
Different studies and research focused on squeezing more ether capacity, more output, more power from the same underlying system.
Over time, only the most efficient techniques were adopted and standardized, while the rest were buried and forgotten.
Lian's eyes narrowed slightly.
So I don't actually have to follow their step-by-step ascension guides.
A faint realization clicked in.
I could even create my own ascension technique. Something that actually fit my style, instead of forcing myself into someone else's framework.
When you assign numbers like Sequence 1 to Sequence 4, people naturally start seeing it as a straight ladder—one step after another, fixed and linear.
It locks their thinking.
Their minds stop asking what lies outside the scale, above it, or even parallel to it.
Lian frowned slightly.
How did no one ever questioned this?
Lian walked while thinking about everything and reached a large rock a bit away from the camp. He placed the soul core on top of it, then picked up a smaller stone and struck it. Nothing happened. Not even a scratch.
He tried again, attempting to incinerate it, but the core didn't react at all. It showed no signs of melting or damage, even after several minutes.
Lian frowned and summoned a crimson katana.
This time, he struck it immediately—before it could cool down, like hammering hot iron straight off the forge.
"Lets see what happens now"
A faint sound.
A tiny crack appeared on the surface—so small he had to lean closer just to confirm it was there.
Lian frowned, the crack in the soul core still faint in his mind.
This is all too suspicious.
Everything about soul cores felt off.
The "incineration" explanation? It didn't add up. A complete waste of energy, resources, and effort.
Even his Pyromancy Glove—strong enough to melt a solid steel cube—barely left a mark on it.
And yet the official story was simple and everyone believed them:
Publicly, the explanation was wrapped in religion. The soul cores were said to be handed to the Vatican hierarchy, where priests performed "sacred incineration rites" as offerings to God so the souls could rest in peace and reach heaven.
That was the narrative.
But in reality, nobody actually knew what happened behind those doors.
Not civilians.
Not even most of the government.
The Vatican stood at a level so high that only a thin layer of top military officials supposedly had real information on what's really going on.
The masses were told, 'Don't worry, we handle it. We incinerate them in controlled facilities. No need to witness it or question it.
Yeah… right. The government basically said trust me bro on this one
It felt like something being carefully hidden.
Lian had also came across plenty of conspiracy theories about soul cores.
Some claimed the government was stockpiling them to forge massive ether crystals.
Others said they were being refined into advanced medicines reserved only for elites.
Some even claimed that elites were using soul cores to create an immortality drug capable of extending lifespan itself.
But none of those theories ever explained how it was done.
Just claims.
Lian understood basic medicine from his previous world—pills, vaccines, poisons, herbs, all had clear steps and processes.
But soul cores didn't fit into any of that logic.
No one explained the actual method of how this dense solid sphere can even be used in medicine. Just vague statements like "processed" or "refined," with no real detail.
All those conspiracy theories left more questions than answers.
--
Lian returned to the academy dorm and rested for a few hours before waking up early.
He wrote the report carefully, summarizing everything that happened during the camping trip. Naturally, he left out most of the catacombs incident—and the warning received from the unknown creature.
After submitting both the report and the soul core at the academy office, he walked over to an ATM-like terminal near the library. He inserted his student ID Card to check the credits.
The number that appeared made him pause.
He got more credits than his monthly Class D allowance.
Maybe I should do this more often… like once a week.
His thoughts drifted.
He could also sell soul cores directly to government channels outside the academy, but the payout was noticeably lower than academy credits.
Still, either way… the demand was clearly there.
Something about soul cores made the system desperate enough to pay heavily for them.
Lian stared at the screen for a moment longer.
That's too much money for something supposedly "useless."
Then another thought crept in.
Or it's something worth far more… and no one actually knows how to use it properly.