Arman sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall in deep thought. His body was exhausted from the long journey, but his mind refused to rest. He had waited for this moment—the true beginning of his training.
Outside, the afternoon sun hung high in the sky, casting warm light through the window. The faint chatter of people outside the inn barely reached his ears, drowned out by the anticipation building within him. He took a deep breath and whispered, "Alright… how do we start?" A familiar voice boomed in his mind, calm yet powerful. "First, you must learn to control your energy. But we will not train outside. Do you remember the place where we first met? The pitch-dark space?" Arman's eyes narrowed as the memory surfaced—a void of pure darkness, endless and consuming. In that space, he had felt weightless yet trapped, as if he existed yet did not. "Yeah, I remember. But how do you know I can even go there again? Last time, you pulled me in, and I could barely stay for long." "That's because you were unconscious. Your spirit was unstable. But if you learn to control your spirit energy and enter by yourself, you can stay there much longer. That's where I will train you." A flicker of unease passed through Arman. "So… how do I do this?" The voice responded, slow and deliberate. "You must push your body into a state where it becomes unconscious, yet your mind remains awake. You must see yourself from the outside." Arman frowned. "You mean… like an out-of-body experience?" "Exactly. This state is called the Ethereal State." A cold shiver ran down his spine. Was that even possible? But deep inside, something told him it was. If this was the key to unlocking his true potential, he had to try. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves, and closed his eyes. The training had begun. Lying down on his bed, Arman focused on steadying his breathing. The mattress beneath him felt soft, grounding him, yet his goal was to leave it—to abandon the feeling of his body altogether. "Alright… unconscious, but awake. How the hell do I even do that?" The voice was patient. "Calm your thoughts. Focus on nothingness. Do not resist. Let go." He inhaled slowly, filling his lungs, then exhaled, emptying his mind. He repeated the process, feeling his heartbeat slow. Seconds passed. Then minutes. And then… something shifted. A strange lightness crept into his limbs, as if the weight of his own body was disappearing. A faint ringing sound buzzed in his ears, growing louder. Then, a sudden dizziness. His mind spun, his vision darkened. A rush of energy surged through him— His eyes snapped open. He was still in his room. The ceiling loomed above him, unchanged. His fingers twitched, still tied to his physical form. "Damn it," he muttered. "You were close," the voice reassured. "But you held on at the last moment. You must let go completely." Arman exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. This was going to be harder than he thought. But he wasn't about to give up. Closing his eyes once more, he tried again. This time, as the lightness spread through his limbs, he didn't resist it. The ringing in his ears grew, the feeling of floating intensified— And suddenly, he felt detached. When he opened his eyes, his breath hitched. He saw himself. His own body, lying still on the bed. His chest rose and fell in slow, rhythmic breaths, his face peaceful, unaware. A strange mixture of awe and fear gripped him. Was this real? Was he really outside his body? Before panic could take over, the spirit's voice echoed. "Well done. You did it." Arman's mind raced. He was weightless, free, yet still connected to something unseen. He had no physical form—only awareness. "This was quick," the spirit said. "Most people take months to achieve this. But this is only the first step. Now listen— from here, you must enter the Base Realm." Arman frowned. "The Base Realm? What's that?" "It's the empty realm between the human world and the spirit realm—the place where we first met." A dark, endless void flashed through his mind. "And how do I enter it?" "You must absorb the spirit energy in this state and create a key—the Key of Emptiness. Once you form it, the door will appear on its own." Arman was puzzled. "A key? What does it look like?" The spirit chuckled. "That, I cannot tell you. The key is different for every person. Once you gather enough energy, it will reveal itself to you." He exhaled, still processing everything. "So I should focus on absorbing spirit energy first?" "Exactly. But not now." The spirit's tone became firm. "Return to your body and rest. You have a city tour in an hour and a half. You'll need your energy for what's ahead." Arman hesitated. He wanted to keep going. But exhaustion was already creeping in. "Alright… I'll continue later." With a final deep breath, he focused on his body— And in an instant, he was back. His eyes fluttered open, his breathing heavier than before. A dull ache settled in his head, and his limbs felt heavier. "Wow… that was exhausting." "That's why you must train every day to maintain this form," the spirit reminded him. A tired chuckle escaped him as he closed his eyes. Within minutes, sleep pulled him under. A Sudden Wake-Up Call Knock. Knock. Knock. The loud knocking at his door jolted him awake. Heart pounding, he bolted upright, blinking groggily. "Who's outside?" Then his eyes darted to the clock— His heart nearly stopped. "Oh no! I'm late!" He jumped up, scrambling toward the door. As he swung it open, Riyan, Ayesha, and Zubair stood there, smirking. Riyan crossed his arms. "Rise and shine, baby." Arman groaned. "I know, I know… I'm late. I'm sorry, guys, I fell asleep." Ayesha waved it off. "No problem. Just get ready fast, we're waiting." As they stepped inside, Arman grabbed a towel, a shirt, and a pair of pants before dashing into the bathroom. Minutes later, he emerged, running a hand through his damp hair. Riyan raised an eyebrow. "Whoa, slow down, man. There's no hurry—we still have ten minutes left." Arman frowned. "What? Aren't we already Ten minutes late?" He pointed at the clock. His friends glanced at it—then burst into laughter. Arman blinked. "Am I missing something here?" Ayesha grinned. "Yes, you are. This clock is twenty minutes ahead. It's only 4:50 PM." His jaw dropped. "So… I was panicking for nothing?!" Zubair chuckled. "Pretty much." Arman groaned, rubbing his temples. "Whatever. I'm ready, let's just go." His friends grinned as they stood up. "Alright then." Riyan said, clapping his hands. "Let's go!" And with that, they stepped out into the city—unaware of what was waiting for them next.Latest Chapter
A Lesson He Couldn’t Forget
Arman looked straight at Jim, his expression calm and steady. There was no arrogance in his eyes, no excitement either—only quiet certainty.“We will see,” Arman said evenly, his voice carrying clearly through the training ground. “Who trains whom.”For a brief moment, Jim didn’t react. His body remained still, as if he was measuring Arman. Then his expression changed. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and something ugly surfaced inside him.Anger came first, sharp and immediate.But beneath that anger lived something deeper—hatred.Not the loud, reckless kind, but the kind that sat silently, waiting for the right moment to strike.Kenny stepped closer to Arman and spoke in a low voice, careful that Jim wouldn’t hear him clearly. “Arman, you really don’t have to fight him. You can refuse. No one will think less of you.”Instructor Lira nodded in agreement. “Yes, Arman. If you don’t want to accept this match, you can—”“No.”Arman cut her off before she could finish the sentence.T
Let’s See Who Trains Whom
The training ground was loud with footsteps and breath.Dust rose constantly as students moved, sparred, fell, and got back up again. Shouts echoed across the field, mixed with the dull thud of fists hitting arms, elbows crashing into guards, and shoes scraping against sand.Some rookies were already panting.Some had bruises forming.Some were still trying to understand how their bodies moved.Arman stood still for a moment.His eyes were locked on Kenny.Kenny rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and grinned like he was enjoying himself a little too much.“Alright, rival,” he said. “Let’s see what you learned.”Arman didn’t answer.He shifted his stance slightly. Left foot forward. Weight light. Hands relaxed.Then—He suddenly sprinted forward.Fast.Direct.No wasted movement.Kenny reacted instantly. His arms came up, elbows tight, reading Arman’s shoulder movement.Arman’s right fist shot forward.Kenny moved to block——but the punch stopped halfway.A fake.Before Kenny’s br
A Warning and a Lesson
Kenny walked up to Arman the moment Jim left the classroom. His grin was wide, but his eyes showed a little worry.“Yo bro,” Kenny said, slapping Arman’s shoulder. “That… that was something else.”Arman blinked. “Hm? Why? Is everyone acting like it’s a big deal?”Kenny stared at him like Arman had asked why the sky is blue.“YES, it’s a big deal! That was Jim you stopped! He isn’t just some loudmouth. That guy is one of the strongest in the second years.”Arman raised an eyebrow. “And?”Kenny pointed at Ron, who was sitting quietly, holding his bag tight to his chest.“You know that boy? Ron? Jim’s servants work for Jim’s family. Ron is the servant’s kid. Jim despises that someone weaker than him has power over him in any form. So he bullies Ron to feel big.”Arman looked at Ron again. The small boy was wiping his glasses, trying to hide the redness in his eyes.“I couldn’t care less,” Arman said calmly. “Wrong is wrong.”Kenny nodded. “Well said, bro. But listen— you gotta be careful
The First Conflict
Instructor Lira left the classroom, and as soon as the door closed, everyone let out a breath they had been holding.Kenny leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Damn… she’s intense. I kinda like it.”Arman smirked. “You would.”They were talking quietly when the classroom door suddenly slammed open so hard that half the class jumped.Three boys walked in.The one in the middle stood out instantly — green spiky hair, sharp eyes, a smirk that screamed trouble.The other two flanked him like bodyguards. They looked like twins, almost identical, except one had black hair and the other had brown. Both were tall, muscular, and walked with heavy steps.The class went silent.Nobody said anything.The green-haired boy scanned the room slowly… like he owned it.Then he spotted someone at the back.A small boy.Thin arms. Small frame. Weak posture. Big round glasses. His uniform looked slightly oversized.He sat alone near the window, holding a notebook to his chest like a shield.Arman look
First Day in Class
“All rookies, attention.”The gray-haired instructor stepped forward. Everyone went silent. The cafeteria still smelled like fear and sweat. Arman stood straight, breathing slowly, feeling his heart calm down.“Out of sixty rookies,” the instructor said loudly,“forty-two survived. Eighteen were eliminated. Fourteen had their badges changed.”He paused, letting the numbers hit.“Good. Those who remain are the ones this academy can shape.”A low murmur began in the room. Some rookies sighed in relief. Some looked proud. Some looked scared because they realized barely surviving was still surviving.Arman only nodded. He understood what it meant. He survived… but there was a difference between surviving and winning.The instructors dismissed everyone, telling them to go rest.Arman walked back to his quarters slowly. His legs felt heavy. His mind was replaying every move from the test. Every dodge. Every scream. Every flicker of a badge.Inside the room, he collapsed onto the bed he woke
Nightfall / The Test Ends
The cafeteria was eerily quiet now. The chaos had reached a climax, and Arman crouched behind a toppled table, chest heaving, sweat streaming down his face. The last red badge rookie had lunged at someone across the room, but the strike was deflected by a quick dodge. For a moment, it seemed as if the chaos might never end.Then, slowly, the lights flickered. The deep reds and bright blues of the badges dimmed. The fluorescent glow that had pulsed across the cafeteria for what felt like hours began to fade.Arman exhaled, letting his body relax just slightly. The pulse of Void energy in the room died down, leaving a tense silence. Around him, rookies cautiously peeked from behind overturned chairs and tables. Some had badges flickering weakly; others had changed colors permanently. A few were gone — eliminated.“Status?” Ievon asked calmly.Arman scanned the room. “Most of the rookies are still standing. Several eliminated. A few switched.”He nodded to himself. Every move, every dodg
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Chef kiss to the author