The Talentless Boy Who Challenged the Devil

CHAPTER TWO: THE ACADEMY MIGHT BE HIDING SOMETHING

He had come here because he wanted to discover his talent.

Now he was being threatened with expulsion before he had even begun.

The instructor turned away, dismissing him as though the matter were settled.

But as Kael stood amid the watching students, another announcement rang from the academy's central tower.

"Attention. By order of the Sovereign Rector, all instructors are reminded that the admission of Kael is to proceed without interference."

“What!”

The courtyard fell silent, and the instructor stopped walking immediately.

For the first time, the confidence on his face faltered.

Kael looked toward the tower, his pulse quickening.

Why would the Sovereign Rector issue such an order for someone like him?

Before he could think further, the instructor turned back.

His expression had changed.

"Report to the combat arena at dawn," he said quietly. "And pray to Astraveth that you survive your first assessment."

Kael watched him leave.

And if the Sovereign Rector's strange order meant anything, someone at the top of Veylcrest Dominion Academy had a reason to keep him here.

Kael immediately made up his mind to find out why.

**********

Kael hit the ground before the instructor finished counting.

“Assessment concluded. Winner, Darius Vane.”

The announcement drew scattered applause, followed by laughter from the students gathered around the combat arena. 

Kael remained on one knee, his palm pressed against the cracked stone as pain spread through his shoulder. His opponent had barely broken a sweat.

Darius adjusted his gloves. A faint silver glow danced around his fingers, the unmistakable sign of an awakened combat talent.

“Honestly, I expected more.” He glanced down at Kael. “They made such a fuss about your admission that I thought you might be hiding something impressive.”

Kael forced himself upright.

“I never said I was.”

“No, you didn't. You just showed up without a talent and expected us to take you seriously.”

A few students laughed harder.

Kael swallowed the blood gathering in his mouth. His shoulder throbbed, and his right leg trembled beneath him, but he refused to sit down again. 

He had known he would lose. Everyone had known it. The only difference was that the others had come to watch him suffer.

“Next pair!” the instructor called.

Kael stepped out of the arena, but he had barely reached the boundary when Darius spoke again.

“Wait. Aren't you forgetting something?”

Kael turned.

Darius held out a training blade.

“Pick it up. You dropped it.”

The blade lay several feet away, exactly where Darius had knocked it from Kael's hand. Kael stared at it, then at the smile spreading across his opponent's face.

He understood that Darius wanted him to crawl for it.

“Keep it,” Kael said.

The surrounding laughter died.

Darius's smile vanished. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

For a moment, neither moved. Then Darius stepped forward, the silver light around his fingers growing brighter.

“You're just too sharp-mouthed for a talentless punk like you. Your family must have done a terrible job raising you. Perhaps another round will teach you some manners.”

“Enough.”

The instructor's voice cut through the arena.

Darius lowered his hand, although the contempt in his eyes remained.

The instructor looked at Kael. “You have already demonstrated that you cannot compete at this level. Do not mistake being stubborn”

Kael's fingers curled.

“What am I supposed to do, then?”

“Find something useful to do with your life.”

The words struck harder than Darius's fist.

The instructor turned away, signalling for the next pair to enter the arena. Just like that, Kael's assessment was over.

He had lasted less than three minutes.

And by the standards of Veylcrest Dominion Academy, that was enough to decide what he was worth.

---

By midday, the academy had sorted its new students into training divisions.

The S talents were assigned to the Obsidian Division, where they would receive private instruction, advanced equipment, and access to the academy's restricted training grounds. Those S talents entered the Bronze, and the F talents entered the Iron Divisions.

Kael received a different designation.

Unclassified.

He stared at the mark printed on his admission card, wondering whether the person who had authorized his entry had ever imagined this outcome.

A staff member shoved a thin uniform into his arms.

“Dormitory block seven. Report to the eastern grounds at six tomorrow morning. You'll assist with equipment maintenance until your next assessment.”

“Equipment maintenance?” Kael asked.

“Unless you've suddenly discovered a talent for complaining.”

The staff member pointed towards a narrow passage behind the training halls. Beyond it stood a collection of old buildings, their stone walls stained by rain and their windows covered in dust. 

Several students in faded uniforms were carrying crates through a courtyard littered with broken training weapons.

“This is where the F talent students stay, which you do not even deserve”, the staff member said with an eye roll. 

“You eat after the recognized divisions have finished. You train when facilities are available. You receive equipment when the academy has something left to give you.”

Kael glanced at the worn practice blades stacked beside the entrance.

“And if I want to train somewhere else?”

The man laughed.

“Earn the right.”

He walked away before Kael could respond.

Kael entered the dormitory.

The room contained six narrow beds, three of which had broken frames. A boy with a bandaged hand sat beside the nearest window, repairing a cracked leather strap.

 He looked up when Kael entered, then glanced at the designation on his uniform.

“Unclassified?”

Kael nodded.

The boy returned to his work. “Then don't expect anyone to make your life easy.”

“Does it get better?”

The boy gave a humourless laugh. “That depends. Have you got a powerful family hiding somewhere?”

“No.”

“Connections?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

He returned to his strap.

Kael dropped his bag onto the least damaged bed. He wanted to ask more questions, but the boy's expression made it clear that he had already said more than he intended.

Kael sat down.

He had imagined the academy differently. He had pictured training grounds filled with people who understood what it meant to fight for humanity, instructors who would teach anyone willing to work hard, and opportunities to prove that a late awakening did not make someone useless.

Instead, he had discovered that the academy had its own monsters.

Some wore uniforms. Others wore expensive rings and carried the names of powerful families.

And the worst part was that the academy had permitted them to decide who deserved a future.

He sighed heavily when his mind went to his family, but he lay on his back, carefully closing his eyes, and soon, sleep took control.

---

The first message from home arrived before evening.

A folded sheet of paper had been pushed beneath the dormitory door. Kael recognized his mother's handwriting immediately, the letters uneven and cramped.

With haste, he opened it.

“Kael, we heard about your assessment. Do not worry about us. Your father and I are managing.”

He read the words twice.

Then he noticed the dark stain near the bottom of the page.

Blood.

His mother's blood, perhaps. Or his father's. His jaw clenched hard out of anger; one would think it was going to break.

He turned it over, hoping there might be more, but the other side was blank.

Kael pressed the paper against his mouth.

He had promised them things when he left home. He had promised his mother that the academy would give him a chance. He had promised his father that nobody would be able to push their family around once he became strong enough.

He had believed those promises when he made them.

Now he could not even find a way to send a message asking whether they were safe.

A bitter laugh escaped him.

What good was an academy admission if it could not protect the people waiting for him outside its gates?

He folded the letter carefully and tucked it inside his uniform.

Then he stood.

If the academy would not teach him how to awaken his talent, he would find another way to learn.

There had to be records, old examinations, abandoned research, anything that could explain why some people awakened extraordinary abilities while others remained powerless.

He would search until he found something.

Even if he had to break every rule in the academy to do it.