"If a Low E-Rank Aegis user is attacked by a Mid E-Rank Phantom, what are the chances of the Aegis user surviving?"
Professor Vance was walking back and forth at the front of the lecture hall tapping a glowing pointer against the holographic board.
"Zero," Vance answered his own question. "Because in the lower ranks, speed beats defense. You must understand your Paths, people. Aegis for physical defense. Phantom for spatial speed. Aether for elemental destruction. Vitality for healing. And Dominion for mental control."
Zen leaned his chin on his hand, staring blankly at the floating neon diagrams on the board.
"System," Zen thought. "Is this seriously what passes for Combat Theory today?"
[Affirmative. The current curriculum is based on the foundational military texts you wrote five centuries ago, though it has been simplified for modern students.]
"Simplified is an understatement," Zen muttered under his breath. "He forgot to mention that a smart Aegis user would just collapse the floor using ambient gravity to trap the Phantom."
"Dude, are you whispering to yourself again?" Jax asked, leaning over from the next desk. "Pay attention. If we fail the midterm practical next week, the academy throws us into the D-Rank military meat grinder for our mandatory service."
"I'm listening, Jax," Zen said. He was actually monitoring his newly stabilized core. The D-Rank Heart-Stone he had absorbed the night before was holding perfectly. He was finally a stable Low F-Rank, which meant he could start actively absorbing ambient mana during class.
"Ranks matter!" Professor Vance slammed his hand on the podium to get everyone's attention, especially those sleeping in the back rows. "Most of you in this room are F-Ranks. The absolute bottom of the barrel. A few of you, like Mr. Jax, managed to scrape your way into Low E-Rank. But remember, every rank from F up to S is divided into Low, Mid, and High tiers. Your goal before graduation is to hit Mid E-Rank. If you don't, you are worthless to the Vanguard's forces."
Vance stopped walking, then turned his gaze to the middle of the room, locking them on Zen.
"Speaking of worthless," Professor Vance sneered. "I'm sure most of you saw that viral clip on the GE networks this morning. An anonymous streamer called the 'Ghost Scrapper' allegedly killed an E-Rank Scrap-Hound without using a single drop of mana."
Excited whispers broke out across the room at the viral topic. Jax nudged Zen's arm under the desk.
"Mr. Arclight," Vance said loudly, silencing the class. "Since you are our resident shattered-core anomaly, why don't you stand up and explain to the class why that video is obviously faked? How does a mana-less F-Rank survive a Scrap-Hound?"
Zen sighed and slowly stood up from his desk.
"It wasn't faked," Zen said in a calm and entirely bored voice. "He just used the environment and basic anatomy."
"Oh? Basic anatomy?" Vance mocked, crossing his arms. "Enlighten us, Mr. Arclight."
"Scrap-Hounds are blind in their left eye due to the rusted plating that fuses to their skulls," Zen stated, reciting a fact he had literally invented centuries ago. "You bait the lunge, turn to the left blind spot, and strike the rusted joint behind its front leg to collapse its momentum. It breaks its own neck on the fall. It doesn't require mana, just timing."
The entire lecture hall went dead silent.
Professor Vance stared at Zen, his mouth slightly open. He looked down at his terminal trying to verify the information.
"That… That is an advanced Vanguard Operator tactic," Vance stammered. "Where did you learn that?"
"I guess the guy in the video just got lucky," Zen said with a shrug before sitting down. "Can we move on?"
"Show-off," Jax whispered to Zen, grinning ear to ear. "Where did you really learn that?"
"I read it on a forum," Zen lied smoothly.
"Alright, that's enough!" Professor Vance yelled, quickly turning off the holographic board. "The bell is about to ring. For the practical dungeon exam next week, you will be working in pairs! I am allowing you to pick your own partners. Choose wisely. Dismissed!"
The classroom erupted into chaos as students started looking for partners.
Zen grabbed his terminal and put it in his bag.
"Well, well, well," a smug voice echoed from the aisle.
Zen looked up to see Kaelen Thorne leaning against the edge of a desk. His two massive cronies flanking him as usual. His uniform was perfect and his golden Aegis mana was crackling around his knuckles.
"Kaelen," Zen said flatly. "You're not even in this class."
"I just came by to check on my favorite investment," Kaelen sneered, crossing his arms. "I saw the ledger transfer on your behalf, Arclight. Ten thousand Mana-Credits. You paid off your back interest."
"I told you I'd pay it," Zen said. "So we're clear for the week."
"We're clear," Kaelen agreed, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "But I'm curious. A broke, F-Rank loser suddenly finds ten grand overnight? What did you do? Find a rich sugar mommy in the slums of District 7?"
"Something like that," Zen replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Now, move. I need to go to the cafeteria."
Kaelen stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Watch your mouth, trash. I do not know who you scammed to get that money, but that doesn't change anything. You are still paying me back every credit. And if I find out you are hiding valuable loot from me, I will break your core and your spine."
Kaelen bumped his shoulder against Zen's as he walked past, his cronies glaring at Jax until he shrank back into his seat.
"I hate that guy," Jax said once Kaelen was gone. "Seriously Zen, where did you get the credits?"
"I sold some old tech I found in the scrap yard," Zen deflected. "Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out this practical exam."
"About that," Jax said, raising an eyebrow with a little smirk. "You know I'm a Low E-Rank. I can take a hit. But you're basically a genius at theory. We pair up, right?"
"Obviously," Zen said.
"Um, excuse me? Zen?" a soft, nervous voice asked.
Zen turned around to see Maya. She was a petite girl with short brown hair, a scatter of light freckles across her nose, and a bright, nervous smile. She was a High F-Rank on the Vitality Path, a healer. And she had a crush on Zen that was pretty obvious, but the original host of this body had been too stupid to notice.
"Hey, Maya," Zen said, offering a polite smile.
"So Professor Vance said we needed pairs," Maya started, her cheeks turning slightly pink. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her shoes. "I know Jax usually partners with you... but since you have a shattered core, I thought maybe you'd want a Vitality user? I could heal your pain during the practical. We could... keep each other safe."
Jax scoffed playfully. "Wow, Maya. Just cutting me right out of the picture, huh?"
Maya turned red, her hands flying up to wave frantically. "N-No I did not mean it like that! I just meant... Zen gets hurt a lot! It makes logical sense to have a healer!"
Zen looked at her. She was sweet. Normal. It was a refreshing contrast from the world-breaking insanity he had dealt with in the dungeon yesterday.
"I appreciate it, Maya," Zen said gently. "Maybe we can talk to the Professor. Figure out a way to make it a group of three. I wouldn't mind the company."
Maya's eyes lit up. "Really? That would be amazing! I even packed some extra mana-snacks today, if you wanted to eat lunch toge…"
BANG!
The doors of the lecture hall slammed open.
The entire classroom went dead silent.
Standing in the doorway was Dean Alaric, the head of the Ares Military Academy. He was a High A-Rank combatant, a man known for his terrifying discipline and absolute composure.
Right now, he looked like he was going to throw up.
He was sweating, his hands were trembling slightly, and his eyes were wide, with fear. He walked to the front of the room clearing his throat loudly.
"E-Excuse me, everyone," the Dean stammered, pulling at his collar. "I know class is dismissed… but we have an announcement. We have a... a late transfer student."
"A transfer?" Jax whispered to Zen. "It's the middle of the semester. The academy rosters are locked tight."
"The rosters have been officially updated by the Vanguard High Command," the Dean squeaked out, his voice literally cracking on the last word. He stepped aside, bowing his head so low he was practically staring at the floor. "Please welcome... Val."
A girl stepped through the doorway, and Zen's blood instantly turned to ice.
It was Valeria.
She wasn't wearing the intimidating Vanguard armor or the dirty black coat from yesterday. She had on the standard-issue Ares Military Academy uniform for the Scrap Dorms: a grey pleated skirt, a white blouse, and a dark jacket. She had used some kind of cheap magical glamor to dye her red hair a dull, ordinary black, and she wore a pair of thick, fake glasses resting on her nose.
But her eyes were still the same. They still had that red, manic obsessed look behind the glasses.
"System," Zen thought, his heart hammering violently against his ribs. "Tell me this is a hallucination."
[Negative. That is Valeria, the Goddess of War. Probability of her tracing you from District 7: 100%.]
"Hi," Valeria. Her voice was sweet, soft, and also very fake.
The male students in the room immediately started whispering to each other. Even with the fake glasses and dyed hair, Valeria was still very beautiful.
"Go ahead and find a seat, Val," the Dean said, not daring to look her in the eye. "A-Anything you need. Anything at all."
Valeria didn't say anything. She looked around the room at all the students. The moment her red eyes locked onto Zen, the room felt heavy and hard to breathe.
Zen could feel the wave of pure killing intent radiating off her, so strong that the temperature in the room literally dropped ten degrees.
She smiled, and it wasn't a nice smile. It was the smile of a predator that had finally cornered its prey after a five-hundred-year hunt.
Valeria adjusted her bag, still looking at Zen. "It's so nice to be here," she whispered in a dark, obsessive voice that made the hairs on Zen's arms stand up. "And I'll love to get to know you better."