2026-01-21 21:00:56The morning came too early.
Andrew knew it before he opened his eyes.
The bell didn’t ring—it attacked.
Metal screamed against metal, sharp and relentless, tearing through Ashwake House without mercy. It wasn’t the lazy, half-hearted ringing of ordinary mornings. This was deliberate. Angry. A command rather than a call.
“Up!”
A caretaker’s voice followed immediately, loud enough to echo.
“Everyone up! Outside. Now!”
Andrew’s eyes snapped open.
For a brief moment, clarity flooded him.
The pain in his ribs was still there, a dull pressure beneath his skin, but it no longer ruled him. His limbs felt lighter. His breathing steadier. That strange calm from the night before resurfaced, quiet but firm, settling into his bones.
Prepared.
The word surfaced without permission.
Andrew frowned slightly as he sat up.
Around him, the hut stirred—but not the way it usually did.
There were no groans. No curses. No slow complaints about aching joints or cold floors.
Only whispers.
Low. Nervous. Sharp.
“Why so early—”
“They never ring it like this—”
“Something’s wrong—”
Andrew stood, testing his weight. His body responded instantly, smoothly, as if it had already calculated the movement before his mind caught up. That unsettled him more than the pain ever had.
Eli was already awake, sitting upright, eyes fixed on the doorway.
“Don’t say it,” Eli muttered.
Andrew glanced at him. “Say what?”
“That this feels wrong.”
Andrew paused. “It feels planned.”
Eli grimaced. “That’s worse.”
They joined the others outside.
The courtyard of Ashwake House looked… tidy.
Too tidy.
The dirt ground had been swept clean. Buckets of water stood in neat rows. Old rags were stacked carefully in a corner. Even the caretakers looked different—backs straight, expressions alert, clothes cleaner than Andrew had ever seen them.
Andrew’s eyes narrowed.
This wasn’t routine.
It was preparation.
“Line up!” a senior caretaker barked.
They obeyed.
“Listen carefully,” the man said, pacing before them. “Visitors don’t like disorder.”
His gaze dragged slowly over the crowd.
“Today, you will clean. You will work. You will move when told and stop when told. Anyone who fails will be corrected.”
A pause.
“Publicly.”
A ripple of tension ran through the line.
Andrew felt it too—but beneath it, something else stirred.
Annoyance.
They were handed rags and shoved toward the far wall of the compound.
“Scrub,” a caretaker snapped. “Until it shines.”
Andrew stared at the rag in his hand.
It was damp. Frayed. Smelled faintly of mildew.
He knelt slowly, as if his body resisted the motion.
What is this? his mind snapped.
I’m Andrew.
I’m the son of a billionaire.
Images flashed unbidden—marble floors polished by hired hands, staff who bowed slightly when they passed, cleaners who never met his eyes.
I don’t scrub walls.
His jaw tightened.
I’ve never scrubbed anything in my life.
For a heartbeat, he considered throwing the rag aside. Standing up. Refusing.
The thought felt natural.
Instinctive.
Then reality pressed in.
The caretaker looming nearby.
The watching eyes of fifty hungry children.
Andrew lowered the rag.
Anger burned quietly in his chest as he scrubbed.
This is humiliation.
This is beneath me.
His movements were stiff at first, resentment bleeding into every stroke. Each scrape of cloth against stone felt like an insult carved directly into his pride.
Beside him, Eli scrubbed with exaggerated enthusiasm, panting dramatically.
“They wake us early,” Eli muttered, “and still expect miracles.”
Andrew didn’t laugh.
“This isn’t happening,” Andrew muttered under his breath. “This can’t be real.”
Eli shot him a look. “Trust me. It’s real.”
Andrew clenched his teeth.
I had drivers.
I had money.
I had power.
And now—
“Quiet.”
A shadow fell over them.
The caretaker stared down, expression flat.
Eli nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”
Andrew said nothing.
He adjusted.
Not because he accepted it—but because he understood something fundamental.
Defiance here wasn’t dramatic.
It was stupid.
He scrubbed faster.
Cleaner.
Efficient.
The anger didn’t leave—but it sharpened.
Remember this, he told himself.
Every second of it.
When the walls were deemed “acceptable,” they were herded into the yard.
“Order drills,” the caretaker announced.
Andrew immediately knew it was a lie.
They were made to run.
Stop.
Rise.
Repeat.
Again and again.
The drills weren’t about discipline.
They were about exhaustion.
About breaking posture. About seeing who cracked first.
Andrew’s body moved without hesitation.
Step. Breath. Turn.
Precise.
Controlled.
He didn’t gasp. Didn’t stumble.
Someone noticed.
A tall boy with a thick neck and scarred knuckles edged closer during one of the pauses. His eyes flicked from Andrew’s steady stance to the way the caretakers’ gazes lingered on him.
Jealousy hardened his expression.
When the signal came to run again, the boy slammed his shoulder into Andrew.
Hard.
Andrew stumbled once.
The boy smirked.
A message sent.
Andrew straightened slowly.
The old Andrew—the one who bought consequences instead of facing them—stirred.
How dare you.
He stepped closer, voice low.
“Do that again,” Andrew said calmly, “and you’ll regret it.”
The boy laughed. “You think you’re special?”
Andrew met his gaze, eyes cold.
“No,” he said. “I think you’re careless.”
The boy swung.
Andrew moved.
No hesitation. No flourish.
He shifted, redirected the momentum, and let physics do the rest.
The boy fell hard, dirt filling his mouth.
Silence snapped across the yard.
Andrew stepped back immediately, hands open, posture neutral.
The caretakers turned.
“What happened?” one barked.
The boy scrambled up. “He—”
“He tripped,” Andrew said evenly. “We were told to run.”
The caretaker studied them both.
Then his gaze lingered on Andrew.
Long.
Uncomfortable.
“Hmph,” he grunted. “Back to your places.”
They obeyed.
Whispers followed Andrew afterward.
Eli stared at him like he was seeing a stranger.
“That wasn’t luck,” Eli said quietly.
“No,” Andrew replied.
“You didn’t hesitate.”
“No.”
Eli swallowed. “Since when can you do that?”
Andrew didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t know.
The drills ended near midday.
They were lined up once more, sweat-soaked and silent.
The senior caretaker stepped forward.
“You will remember this morning,” he said. “Visitors will arrive soon.”
A pause.
“Not all of you will be seen.”
Another pause.
“Not all of you will be allowed to leave.”
The words landed heavily.
Andrew understood instantly.
The caravan wasn’t rescue.
It was selection.
An opportunity and a trap, braided together.
As they were dismissed, Eli caught up to him.
“So that’s it,” Eli muttered. “They clean us up. Make us perform. Then decide who’s worth something.”
Andrew looked back at the walls he’d scrubbed that morning.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “And who isn’t.”
At the hut doorway, Eli hesitated.
“If they pick you…” Eli asked softly. “Will you leave without me?”
Andrew turned.
The memory of his old life flickered—wealth, excess, indifference.
Then he looked at Eli.
“No,” Andrew said. “Not without you.”
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
The Monster Called Kael
The atmosphere around the recruits changed after the visit to the armory.Even the way they walked through the halls of Astral Vanguard carried more confidence than before, though most of them tried hiding it behind calm expressions. Weapons had a strange effect on people. Holding one for the first time made a cultivator feel closer to becoming something greater than an ordinary human being. It gave shape to ambition. It made the future feel real.Andrew noticed that immediately the following morning.Ronan had barely separated from his sword since yesterday. The weapon rested against his shoulder as though the two already belonged together, and every few minutes faint sparks of lightning flickered unconsciously around the blade whenever his mood shifted.Lyra moved differently too.Her daggers remained hidden beneath her sleeves, yet Andrew could tell she had practiced drawing them repeatedly through the night. Her movements had become cleaner, lighter, more deliberate.Even Eli look
The Armory of Astral Vanguard
A month changed people more than Andrew expected.The realization came to him quietly as he walked through the corridors of Astral Vanguard alongside the others, heading toward the lower district of the guild under Seran’s guidance. The same group that once looked like starving refugees dragged out of Ashwake House now carried themselves differently. Their backs were straighter, their movements firmer, and even the hesitation that once followed them everywhere had slowly disappeared under weeks of brutal training.Astral Vanguard had rebuilt them from the ground up.Painfully.Andrew glanced sideways at Eli, who was currently complaining while stretching his shoulders dramatically as though he had survived a war.“I still think Kael enjoys violence too much,” Eli grumbled. “There’s no reason a training instructor should smile while throwing people into walls.”“You screamed before he touched you,” Lyra replied calmly from beside him.“That was tactical fear.”“That was cowardice.”“It
The Terror Called Kael
If Selene’s cultivation class felt like torture—Then Kael’s combat training felt like punishment for crimes they had not committed yet.The thirteen recruits arrived at the combat grounds shortly after midday, still exhausted from the previous session. Most of them had barely recovered from the breathing exercises and posture training forced upon them earlier, especially Eli, who walked like a man whose soul had been separated violently from his body.“I still can’t feel my arms,” he complained while dragging his feet across the stone path.“That’s because Lady Selene corrected you seventeen times,” Lyra replied calmly.“It was not seventeen.”“It was nineteen,” Andrew corrected.Eli looked horrified. “You counted?”“You were distracting.”“I was suffering.”“You were loud.”Eli muttered something under his breath that sounded deeply offensive toward cultivation itself.The combat grounds of Astral Vanguard were located behind the main training halls, separated by high grey walls rei
The Beginning of Cultivation
The next morning arrived quietly.Unlike Ashwake House, where every sunrise had once meant shouting, hunger, and exhaustion, mornings inside Astral Vanguard carried a different atmosphere entirely. The guild was already alive long before the recruits woke up. Footsteps echoed through the distant corridors, servants moved supplies between halls, and somewhere far outside their quarters, the faint sound of metal clashing against metal rang through the guild grounds repeatedly.Training had already begun for someone.Andrew opened his eyes slowly.For a brief moment, he simply stared at the ceiling above his bed.The mattress beneath him was still far better than anything he had ever touched inside Ashwake, though nowhere near the comfort he once enjoyed in his previous life. Even now, after weeks inside this strange world, there were moments where memories returned suddenly and without warning.Cold drinks.Luxury cars.Nightclubs.His father’s towering company buildings.The freedom of
The Things People Don’t Say
A few recruits still remained seated, trying to imitate the breathing method he had shown them earlier, while others quietly discussed everything Seran had taught them about Aether, affinities, and the monsters beyond the Rifts. The atmosphere was no longer as noisy as before. Everyone seemed more thoughtful now, as though the reality of the world had finally settled properly into their minds.Eli was stretched across two chairs dramatically, one arm hanging downward while he stared at the ceiling with the expression of a man who had just discovered life was far more difficult than he expected.“I miss ignorance,” he muttered weakly.Andrew, who stood nearby with his arms folded, glanced at him briefly.“You say that every hour.”“Because every hour this world becomes more terrifying.”Lyra remained quiet beside them.Unlike Eli, she wasn’t joking around. Her eyes occasionally drifted toward the exit Kellan had used earlier, and the more she thought about it, the more uncomfortable sh
The Boy Who Survived
For several moments after Seran left the hall, nobody moved.The enormous classroom that had earlier been filled with discussion and questions suddenly felt strangely heavy, as though the information they had just received was still hanging in the air around them.Rifts.Monsters.Forbidden affinities.Void.Guild wars.The competition.Everything they had learned in a single afternoon was more than most of them had ever known their entire lives.Eli slowly slid downward from his chair until he was sitting directly on the polished floor.Then he leaned backward dramatically and groaned.“I miss being ignorant.”A few of the recruits laughed weakly.Andrew remained seated, one arm resting against the side of his chair while his eyes stayed fixed ahead thoughtfully.He had expected this world to be dangerous.But not like this.Not organized danger.Not an entire civilization built around surviving horrors powerful enough to wipe out cities.His mind drifted briefly toward the word Sera
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