In the evening, Raven and Wolfton lay on beds opposite each other. Their bodies had been healed, but they were still told to rest until the following day.

  "I can’t believe that reckless boy would let you two fight a Being of Old on your first day. What was he thinking?" an old, stale-colored stickwoman rambled.

  Raven and Wolfton sat quietly, their faces heavy with defeat. The battle with James had humbled them in more ways than one. Raven kept replaying how James shattered his aura-filled sword with his bare hands, the sheer speed and power behind every move.

  Raven’s eyes dimmed. He couldn’t even get angry about failing. James was simply on a different level.

  "Raven, please teach me your sword techniques," Wolfton said, clenching his fists.

  "Our battle with James showed me how much I rely on my ability without refinement. I want to improve. Swinging a sword blindly isn’t good enough anymore."

  Raven looked at him silently.

  "Watching your fight with him showed just how lacking I am. You went toe-to-toe with him, made him bleed, made him lose his cool, and lasted two minutes. I barely lasted one and it’s all thanks to you."

  Raven exhaled slowly.

  "Wolfton, when we first met, you offered that I’d teach you swordsmanship while you’d teach me more about the Champion System…"

  He met Wolfton’s determined gaze.

  "I understand you. I’ve never felt so weak in a long time. I’ll teach you what I know, and we’ll grind our strength together."

  Wolfton nodded firmly.

  "Grandma, you mentioned ‘Beings of Old’ earlier. Who are they?" Raven asked the old healer, who was mixing ingredients on a table.

  She fell silent for a while before answering.

  "A Being of Old is a title given to any person whose existence is unanchored to the current flow of creation."

  "Huh?!" both Raven and Wolfton said, confused. The old healer chuckled.

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  "It’s complicated, but I’ll simplify it. They are remnants from the Pre-Mana Eras, when the laws of reality were raw and undefined.

  Though they now dwell in a world governed by order, their very souls remain Untethered Essences, bending space, time, and mana not by will, but by nature.

  They possess Historical Immortality, untouched by decay or the linear flow of time. History moves around them like wind around a stone. Their destruction demands forces that contradict existence itself, divine decree, paradox, or erasure from memory.

  Each bears a Residual Signature: distortions that bleed into the mortal world, dreams replaying ancient wars, whispers of déjà vu, illusions of forgotten places. Where they walk, reality remembers."

  Wolfton’s head felt like it was overheating from the flood of information. Raven only stared in confusion, though he managed to piece together some details, the Beings of Old were born in the era of chaos before mana fully formed. They were unimaginably ancient and detached from natural laws.

  "So James is ancient? No wonder he could do impossible things without using mana," Raven muttered.

  "Not necessarily," the healer replied. "James isn’t that old. Though I suspect he’s well over two hundred years, even if he doesn’t look or act like it."

  "Two hundred?!" both exclaimed.

  "Being a Being of Old doesn’t necessarily mean living thousands of years, it can be hundreds. What makes them unique is that their souls are nearly immortal and untethered from natural essence. They can die, especially the lesser ones. But as long as their souls still exist, they’ll be reborn."

  "So James is likely one of the lesser Beings of Old, he can die."

  Raven frowned. James was beatable, but it would be an impossible task. His power and experience were on another level. He wondered if the Archmage could also be one of them, the strength he displayed that day was overwhelming.

  "You’ve heard of Zenobios Bruggen, the tyrant who appeared 980 years ago after 3,000 years of supposed death?" the old healer asked.

  "Yes, the Elf who almost destroyed the world… He’s one too?" Wolfton replied.

  "Yes, a powerful one. So strong that no champion could stand against him. Even Iode, who had a glimmer of hope, failed."

  Raven’s body stiffened at the name.

  'Why do I feel like the Iode who fought Zenobios is the same as the Archmage? They share the same name… Did he become a Being of Old afterward, or am I overthinking this?'

  Clack!

  Sergeant Major Lupin entered the medical room.

  "You vermins are awake. I hope you—ouch! Ouch!" he yelped as the old healer twisted his ear.

  "Why would you do something so irresponsible?! Letting those poor boys fight James? He’s leagues above them!"

  "It was a lesson, you old hag," Lupin grumbled. "If they don’t taste defeat from someone far stronger, they’ll grow complacent. The world is unpredictable, it’ll crush anyone who believes they’re strong when they’re not."

  "You took it too far. They’ve been here barely a day, and you’re already pushing them that hard!"

  "Nonsense, you dying fossil. He’s a wall every special cadet must overcome."

  "Tch. Do whatever you want. Just don’t lose them when it matters."

  "They’re soldiers," Lupin said sharply. "Breaking and reforging them is what we do. If they break and don’t rise again, they don’t deserve to be champions."

  He turned to the boys.

  "You two! Your feeble spirits must’ve been crushed by that hopeless defeat, huh?"

  Raven clenched his fists and teeth.

  "He’s far stronger and more experienced than us, but if it’s the last thing I do before graduating, I’ll defeat him."

  "Ooh, such conviction from a worthless gremlin," Lupin mocked. "Too bad I’m not giving you that much time."

  "Huh?"

  "You’ve got six months to grow your redundant strength. In the seventh, you’ll fight alongside your fellow cadets for the top spot in the Champion Competition. Think you can do it?"

  Raven and Wolfton looked at each other, then saluted, their eyes burning with resolve.

  "Yes, sir!"

  Lupin grinned. "Good. That’s what I like to hear."