Rise of the Super War God

Chapter 4: The War God’s Trial Begins

 

“Ah, no way! Principal! Even the mentally ill are being sent to the battlefield now? That’s not in line with Article 53, Clause 2 of the Celestial Dominion Citizen Basic Law! I studied Arcane Mind Arts—doesn’t that grant me battlefield exemption? I want to file a complaint! My father-in-law… he’s being cruel beyond reason!”

Kael Ardyn’s voice cut through the cavernous hall like a whip, bouncing off high, metallic walls. Desperation trembled in every word, but underneath, a stubborn spark of fire refused to die.

The white-bearded principal didn’t flinch. His robe swayed slightly as he turned, eyes calculating, unyielding. He looked at Kael like he was a shadow, flickering, temporary, irrelevant. “Kael Ardyn, save your breath. That exemption only applies if you hold a higher-level certificate in Arcane Mind Arts. You failed the lower-level exam. Retake it, and then we can discuss exemptions.”

“But… but—” Kael stumbled, scrambling for words that might bend rules or reality itself.

“As for complaints or Celestial Dominion law,” the principal continued, voice calm, almost amused, “save those for the Voidspawn Swarm. In half an hour, a troop transport will take you away.”

Without a glance back, he walked off, leaving Kael shouting into empty air, his words swallowed by the oppressive silence of the hall.

Half a universal hour later, Kael, frail, handcuffed, trembling, was shoved forward by five heavily armed soldiers into a hovering troop transport. The hull gleamed darkly under flickering lights. Skull motifs etched into the steel reflected the shimmer like some alive, mocking stare.

The K202. Sleek. Fast. Menacing. Authority incarnate. Even nearby students stopped, whispers buzzing.

“That boy… doesn’t he look familiar?” a girl murmured, clutching her friend’s sleeve.

He nodded, wide-eyed. “That’s the Celestial Dominion’s newest troop transport. Ordinary criminals never ride these. He’s either important… or a descendant of a traitor.”

Kael’s chest tightened as the K202 surged past the academy towers. Every vibration pressed into his ribs. No guarantees. No safety.

Another half-hour later, they arrived at a planetary military base. Silver corridors stretched endlessly, sterile and unwelcoming. Soldiers herded him forward.

This isn’t heaven. This is hell, Kael thought, swallowing hard.

The launch platform lay ahead, lined with warships capable of crushing mountains. Silent steel giants radiated authority—and death. Kael admired them briefly, then dread replaced awe. He could almost feel the Voidspawn Swarm lying in wait, teeth bared, hungry for the unprepared.

They shoved him into a small spacecraft. An energy gun pressed to the back of his neck. One wrong move, one hesitation, and it would be over. The metal chair at the rear held him captive, handcuffed and strapped down like a wild animal.

The ship lurched upward. Pressure pressed against his chest. Kael gasped. Invisible. Expendable. Alone in the endless void.

Five universal hours later, the vessel docked at a medium-sized space transit station. Kael was escorted into a troop warship built for long-range jumps. Thirty other prisoners waited, restrained the same way. Pale faces, wide eyes, terror muted by resignation. Armed guards lined the cabin, guns tracking every twitch.

Four rows of cylindrical pods dominated the room. Forty in total. A young, stern second lieutenant addressed them.

“You’ve arrived promptly. These pods will carry you on a thirty-day jump to Darkmoon Planet, where you will face the Voidspawn Swarm. Long jumps like this can drive people mad. The military has equipped cryogenic pods to let you sleep… peacefully. Dream, if you can. Perhaps for the last time.”

Kael shivered as soldiers shoved them inside. Handcuffs were removed. He slid into a metal-and-glass coffin. Frost crept across his skin as the cryo-system hummed to life.

Inside, his mind refused to quiet. Human colonies stretched across countless star systems. Long jumps were inevitable. Many species—some intelligent, some hostile. Humanity’s iron rule, warships, unstoppable mechs… most kept in line. Until the Voidspawn Swarm.

The swarm disrupted centuries of expansion, invading colonies with terrifying speed. Even the Celestial Dominion and the Holy Church had paused decades of war to unite against them.

Kael closed his eyes. Cryo-pods were supposed to erase thought, leave only instinct. Yet somehow… he stayed awake.

Then a voice spoke.

“Strange… Host. Humans typically lose all cognitive function in cryogenic sleep. How are you still thinking?”

Kael’s pulse quickened. “War God System… why can I think? Aren’t pods supposed to shut down the mind?”

“Scanning mode activated. Rescanning the host body. Stats obtained:

Name: Kael Ardyn

Race: Human

Cell Activity: 8/10

Strength Burst: 7/10

Agility & Reflex: 7/10

Mental Energy: 4/10

Physical Endurance: 6/10

Specialty: Unknown

Exclusive Skill: Not Activated

War God Reward: Not Activated”

Kael’s eyes widened. Mental energy plummeted from 24 to 4.

“Ridiculous! Pathetic. Barely the mind of a child,” Lyndric Fayne’s voice boomed inside Kael’s head.

The troop ship jolted violently, rear thrusters flaring. Darkness pressed in. Every lesson, every Arcane Mind Arts drill, every warning about the Voidspawn flashed through his mind. Nothing could have prepared him. Not the cold, not the restraints, not the isolation.

This is it, he realized. The frontlines. Maybe my last chance to survive.

Kael ground his teeth. “I’m telling you, System Lyndric Fayne, these numbers look fine to me. Don’t expect miracles. Everything must be analyzed calmly.”

The system’s voice remained crisp, icy. “During your Moonspire Academy entrance exam, mental power: four. Far below the fifteen required for the Aether Combat Division. You chose Arcane Mind Arts instead.”

Kael narrowed his eyes. “If you think I’m unworthy, go find another host. I won’t stop you.”

“That lieutenant you met seemed capable. Minimums: mental power twenty, all other stats above fifteen. Scans showed promise…”

The system recited his previous numbers:

Host Name: Kael Ardyn

Species: Human

Cell Activity: 18/10

Strength Burst: 17/10

Agility Response: 17/10

Mental Energy: 24/10

Physical Endurance: 16/10

Specialty: Unknown

Exclusive Skill: Not Activated

War God Reward: Not Activated

“After a day, all stats dropped by ten. Mental power now four. Explain, Host.”

Kael pressed fingers to his temples. “Maybe your first scan was flawed?”

“The War God System does not err. Training is irreversible. Fail, and you die. Another host will replace you.”

Kael shivered. “Wait… you’re saying I must die first?”

“Yes. Prove yourself, or perish.”

His mind raced. “No! I have potential. The first scan was correct—I remember. When I drink, my thoughts… sharpen.”

A chime echoed inside his head.

“Activating War God System deep scan: simulating host response to alcohol. Exclusive skill detected: Bloodfury.”

Exclusive Skill: Bloodfury

Activates when intoxicated

Boosts physical stats by ten, mental energy by twenty

Side effects unknown

Kael grinned. “See? I’m worth cultivating.”

“You fall below standard,” the system admitted. “But Bloodfury makes you worth training… for now.”

“Why doesn’t the cryo-pod affect me? Latent soul energy?” Kael asked cautiously.

“Latent soul energy usually aligns with mental power. Your mental power is four. Cryo-pods suppress normal brain activity, leaving only primal instincts. Abnormal minds may resist,” the system explained.

Kael smirked. Time-skipping possibilities… strategies… survival…

“Host,” Lyndric Fayne growled, “you are a War God trainee. Strive to become the War—”

The pod’s glass lid sealed shut, plunging Kael into darkness. Outside, stars streaked past at impossible speed, and somewhere in the void, the first screams of the Voidspawn awaited.