Dean Martins stood rooted to the marble dais, his knuckles white against his wooden staff. For three terrifying seconds, the entire academy remained completely frozen, staring at the bruised, tear-streaked cleaner kneeling amidst the dust and shattered glass left behind by the fled beasts. No one could comprehend what had just transpired. Two B-rank apex predators, famous for tearing high-tier mages to shreds, had dropped their prey and fled in absolute terror but as the initial shock evaporated, the mages' fragile ego and embarrassment quickly warped into an ugly, collective rage. They could not accept that a non-magical worm had survived through anything other than sheer, disgusting unnaturalness.
“W-what kind of unnatural foulness is that?!” Noah bellowed first, breaking the silence as he pointed a trembling, accusing finger at Kelvin.
“He didn't fight them off. He couldn't even if he tried He's so utterly rancid, filthy, and worthless that even mindless void beasts are disgusted by his flesh!” Noah rage was getting higher
A wave of cruel, hysterical laughter erupted through the crowd of students, growing louder and more vicious with every second.
“Look at him, he isn't just powerless but also a walking jinx and a biolohial curse” Seraphina shrieked, clutching her stomach as she laughed until tears came to her eyes
“He's so foul the Shadow-Stalkers couldn't even stomach his meat!” Chloe mocked, using a minor telekinetic spell to pick up a chunk of sharp glass and hurl it at Kelvin's shoulder, cutting through his shirt. "He's a bad omen! A walking blight on our sacred grounds!"
Dean Martins’ face contorted into a mask of pure, veins-throbbing embarrassment and anger. To have his grand, calculated sacrifice end not in a heroic stall of time, but in the embarrassing retreat of monsters fleeing a non-magical pest, was an unbearable insult to his prestige as an Arch-Mage. His amber eyes burned with absolute malice as he looked down at the trembling boy.
“Enough” Martins roared, his voice amplified by air magic so hard it rattled the surrounding stone spires. He pointed his heavy staff directly at Kelvin's shivering form. “This creature is a blight upon the grand halls of this Academy. His very presence brings misfortune, disrupts our wards, and taints the sacred ether of this academy! Guard! Drag this cursed trash off the academy grounds immediately”
“No please, Dean Martins” Kelvin cried out, his voice cracking into raw, desperate shrieks as true panic gripped his chest.
He dragged his bruised, battered body across the cold obsidian stone, blood smearing beneath his knees as he clawed desperately at the hem of the nearest guard's enchanted cloak.
“I have nowhere to go! I don't know this world! I don't even know where I am. I will die out there in the void-forest, please I will sweep the entire academy twice a day and I will sleep in the cold slop-pits. I won't ask for food, I swear, Please, don't throw me out!” Kelvin sobbed, his chest heaving violently against his cracked ribs.
“Get your filthy, cursed hands off me, trash” the guard snarled, repulsed. He drew back his iron-shod boot and delivered a brutal kick directly to Kelvin’s jaw.
Kelvin reeled back with a sickening crack, tasting copper and ash as fresh blood spilled down his chin and stained his neck. Tears of agony, helplessness, and searing humiliation blurred his vision, but the instinct to survive forced him onto his hands and knees once more. Weeping openly, he scraped his raw fingers against the floor, begging the surrounding noble students who had watched him suffer for three whole months.
“Please., Noah, Alaric, help me. I promise not to do anything that might annoy you henceforth. Just help me talk to Dean Martin” he begged, his raw knuckles bleeding onto the jagged glass scattered around him
“Get lost, bad luck” Alaric spat, stepping forward to land a heavy dragon-leather boot straight into Kelvin’s broken ribs, forcing a wet gasp of agony from the boy's throat.
“Out! Out!! Out!!!” the students began to chant, egged on by Noah, Seraphina, and Chloe.
The crowd closed in like a mob of wild animals. They rained a barrage of small, stinging fire sparks, icy shards, and rotten food onto his shivering, helpless back. They spat on him, threw stones, and cheered as if driving out a demon.
“Cast out the jinx and drive the trash away”
Two massive guards grabbed Kelvin by his bloody shirt collar and arms, dragging his limp, broken body through the dirt like a bag of refuse. His feet trailed behind him, leaving a thin trail of blood across the polished courtyard tiles while the entire student body gathered along the pathway, cheering, laughing, and pelting him with debris.
Kelvin wept bitterly, his broken, raspy pleas drowning completely beneath the deafening tide of mockery.With a final, brutal shove, the guards hurled Kelvin forward.
He tumbled down the steep marble stairs, crashing violently onto the jagged, icy rocks of the outer wasteland beyond the grand perimeter. Behind him, the massive, spell-bound iron gates of the Academy groaned as they swung shut, sealing with a final, echoing crash of anti-trespass sigils.
Kelvin lay face down in the frozen dirt, naked to the howling, freezing winds of the barren territory. Beaten within an inch of his life, covered in trash, blood, and dirt, he was left completely alone in a monster-ridden world utterly discarded by the mages who thought him lower than dirt.
He was dying. He knew it. Without shelter, without magic to ward off the biting cold, and without food, the harsh elements of this foreign world would claim him before nightfall.
Suddenly, as he shifted his arm, his fingers brushed against a small tear in the frayed lining of his dirty trousers. A faint, metallic clink echoed softly against the howling wind.
Kelvin’s hand instinctively darted into the rip, his trembling, numb fingers closing around three tiny, tarnished copper coins.
He stared at the worthless metal in his hand, a sudden, searing realization cutting through the foggy haze of his pain. These three coins were the sum total of everything he possessed. They wouldn't buy a single crust of stale bread in the lower slums, let alone save his life in the void-forest.
A sudden, white-hot spark of defiance flared in the depths of his chest. Today was the 27th of the month. His monthly wages were officially due. If these arrogant mages were going to cast him out like garbage to be devoured by monsters, he was not going to leave a single copper of his hard-earned money in their filthy, aristocratic hands.
With a raspy, painful roar, Kelvin forced his trembling, battered body to move. He threw his weight forward, scrambling on all fours across the frozen gravel like a desperate animal before surging onto his feet.
“Wait!” Kelvin screamed, his voice raw, hoarse, and flecked with red foam as he sprinted back toward the closing entrance.
Latest Chapter
The Shores of Iron-Reach
The jagged cliffs of the Western Continent rose out of the heavy sea fog like the grey teeth of an ancient titan.This was Iron-Reach, the easternmost province of the Sol-Oth Empire. For over a century, its vast mountain ranges and coal-black valleys had served as the penal engine of the realm. Millions of subjugated citizens, farmers, scholars, and soldiers from fallen nations labored in the subterranean siphoning mines, digging out raw mana-veins to feed the endless hunger of the Emperor’s Crown-Core.From the iron bow of The Absolute, Kelvin watched as the smoke of a hundred slave-foundries smeared the afternoon sky into a dreary twilight.Behind him, fifty heavy Vanguard transports and eighty captured sub-dreadnoughts glided into the deep-water bay of Port Vane. The coastal battery guns sat broken and silent, their crews having fled the moment Fortress Obsidian’s fall was signaled across the scrying networks.Captain Jarek stepped onto the iron deck, a massive zero-steel warhammer
The Iron Fortress of the Skerries
The sea mist hung heavy over the Siren-Skerries, an ancient archipelago of razor-sharp black basalt spires rising out of the foam like the teeth of a sleeping beast.At the center of the island chain stood the imperial stronghold of Fortress Obsidian—a monolithic citadel carved directly into the heart of a dead volcano. For two hundred years, it had served as the Sol-Oth Empire’s unbreakable eastern gateway. Its three-tier gun balconies held over two hundred heavy mana-gongs capable of boiling sea water in seconds, while its harbor mouth was sealed by a pair of massive, five-hundred-ton zero-magic brass sea-gates.Inside the fortress command tower, Lord-Governor Malakor peered through a massive crystalline scrying glass. The sight that met his eyes turned his blood to ice.Through the ragged fog came not a shattered remnant of an invaded fleet, but an unstoppable black wall of iron. The Vanguard Armada now flanked by eighty captured Sol-Oth sub-dreadnoughts flying the dark zero-steel
The Armada of Zero
The harbor at Port Gale was no longer a quiet fishing haven; it had been transformed into the beating iron heart of the Vanguard’s total war effort.For three continuous weeks after the reclamation of the Ocean-Core, the grand dockyards hummed with the deafening clamor of industrial production. Heavy steam-hammers slammed down day and night, shaping double-hulled plates of black zero-steel. Great timber beams carved from the iron-wood trees of the Sylvan Reach were bolted together, forming the keels of fifty ironclad war-barges and three massive dreadnought-class flagships designed to cross the stormy expanses of the Uncharted Ocean.At the center of the harbor sat Kelvin’s personal vessel a massive, two-hundred-meter zero-steel battle-dreadnought dubbed The Absolute. It bore no flashy gold leaf, no ornate dragon figureheads, and no shimmering mana-arrays like the Sol-Oth warships. It was a monolith of dark, unpolished metal and heavy cannons, built for one single purpose: absolute do
The Abyss of Thalassa
The sinking of the Void-Emperor sent shockwaves through the seabed, but the Ocean-Core beneath the waves remained in acute danger. Siphoned and destabilized by the Sol-Oth fleet's deep-sea drills, the ancient anchor was vibrating at a frequency that threatened to shatter the tectonic rift of the Storm-Reaches.Down on the sea-slicked rocks at the base of the cliffs, Captain Jarek and the Vanguard diving engineers rolled out two massive Zero-Steel Pressure-Diving Bells—heavy spherical bathyspheres built with double-hulled zero-steel plates, sealed with pressurized rubber gaskets, and driven by heavy mechanical winches.Vanya checked the oxygen-scrubber valves on her diving harness, her dark eyes reflecting the churning black waves."The Sol-Oth siphons severed the outer wards," Vanya reported, securing her twin zero-steel daggers inside water-tight leather sheaths. "The pressure at five hundred fathoms is enough to crush iron like a dry leaf, but the real threat is the wild ocean-mana
The Fall of the Leviathan
The three-hundred-foot plunge from the cliffs of the Storm-Reaches into the churning black tide would have pulverized a lesser man into crimson mist.Kelvin did not flinch.As he fell, the howling gale whipped his dark cloak into a blur of black cloth. Below him, the Void-Emperor, the two-thousand-foot lead Dreadnought of the Sol-Oth Fleet resembled an iron island. Its decks bustled with hundreds of armored brass-warriors, and its central Void-Siphon hummed like a dying star, pumping millions of gallons of boiled, violet sea water out through its massive iron scuppers.Fifty feet above the flagship’s armored superstructure, Kelvin channeled the dense, gravimetric weight of his Primeval Zero-Core straight into his boots.Kelvin slammed onto the dreadnought’s main forward gundeck like an iron meteor.The initial impact sheared through three-inch reinforced brass plating, shattering the steel trusses beneath and sending a shockwave rippling across the length of the flagship. Two heavy tw
The Shadow of the Void-Fleet
The damp, fragrant air of the Sylvan Reach fell away as the Vanguard marched rapidly toward the jagged bluffs of the Storm-Reaches on the eastern coast.Here, the sky was a bruised indigo, heavy with unceasing gale-force winds and salt spray. Off the razor-sharp reefs, the sea churned like black ink, sustained in a state of perpetual tempest by the fifth Sovereign Anchor: the Ocean-Core, submerged five hundred fathoms beneath the waves in the ancient sunken temple of Thalassa.Standing on the high cliff headland, Kelvin watched through a brass spyglass as two monstrous, mountain-sized iron hulls anchored in the outer bay.These were not standard warships. They were Sol-Oth Void-Dreadnoughts, titan-class war machines plating three-foot-thick brass-steel armor and powered by harvested mana-cores. Above their heavy iron decks, colossal void-siphons glowed with a sickly, artificial violet light, drilling deep energy-conduits into the dark sea floor toward the Ocean-Core below.Beside Kelv
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