CHAPTER 573: HOW YOUR TRAINING IS GOING TO BE

As the sun climbed steadily over the towering spires of the Dark Knight Academy, warm light spilled across stone pathways already crowded with students making their way toward the grand training hall on the eastern side of the grounds. The atmosphere was alive with movement and restless anticipation, uniforms brushing past one another as both first-years and second-years converged on the same destination. Inside the massive hall, rows of students gathered together, all dressed in their designated training attire, the space echoing faintly with footsteps and overlapping voices.

The hall itself buzzed with conversation, speculation flowing freely as students whispered to one another, each trying to guess what kind of training awaited them. Some sounded excited, others wary, but none truly relaxed. The academy had a reputation, after all, and surprises here were rarely pleasant.

Among the crowd stood Liam and his group, positioned not far from one another yet blending into the larger mass like everyone else. They, too, were waiting, wondering, and quietly bracing themselves.

"Damn," Dylan muttered as he slowly turned in place, craning his neck to look up at the vaulted ceiling far above them. "With the second-years mixed in, I thought this place would be suffocatingly packed. But it looks like the academy went all out renovating during the break. This hall’s way more spacious than I remember."

"Yeah," Max agreed, glancing around with clear interest. "Looks like they really made good use of that six-month break. Everything feels... bigger."

As the two of them continued to look around like tourists seeing the place for the first time, Asher shot them a sharp, disapproving glance. "Do you mind acting normal for once?" he snapped in his usual cutting tone. "It’s seriously irritating to watch you two gawking like that."

Dylan slowly turned toward him, his face settling into an exaggeratedly flat expression. "Wow," he said dryly. "You really are a pain, Asher boy. What’s wrong with appreciating the architecture, huh? Are we not allowed to admire the beauty of this hall? Or is that concept outside your vocabulary?" His voice carried dramatic judgment, layered thick with mock offense.

Asher stared at him for a brief moment, clearly debating a response, before clicking his tongue in annoyance and turning away, his attention returning to the sea of students ahead.

"Can you guys not argue for one minute?" Sheila muttered, casting a sideways glance at Dylan.

"Well, he started it," Dylan replied immediately, his lips jutting out in a theatrical pout.

Sheila sighed softly and shook her head. "Still, try to be less chaotic. Both of you," she said calmly, her tone carrying quiet authority.

"Ay ay, Princess," Dylan responded with an exaggerated salute, earning an eye roll from her in return.

"Anyway," Dylan continued, shifting gears without hesitation, "do any of you have even the slightest idea what kind of training the academy cooked up for us? I’m genuinely curious."

"Yeah, same," Max added, his eyes brightening. "I hope it’s something intense. I really want to test my limits this month."

"I’m pretty sure it will be," Ariana said softly. "This academy isn’t exactly known for going easy on its students."

"She’s right," Sheila chimed in. "It’s probably best if we expect this month to be as hellish as possible."

As the conversation carried on around him, Liam stood slightly apart from the group, his gaze drifting across the gathered students without truly focusing on any of them. His thoughts were elsewhere, tangled around his final exchange with Mabel the night before, replaying in his mind whether he wanted them to or not.

’It’s strange,’ he thought. ’Why did her words irritate me that much?’

Dylan had teased him openly, blatantly even, yet Liam hadn’t cared in the slightest. But when Mabel had spoken—when she’d implied something similar—it had struck a nerve he hadn’t known was there.

’Why did that bother me?’

The question lingered, gnawing at him as he searched for an answer that refused to surface.

’Whatever,’ he decided finally. ’I’ll deal with it later. I should apologize to her tonight.’

Before he could sink any deeper into his thoughts, a familiar velvety purr slipped into his ear.

"What are you thinking about, bae~?" Charlotte whispered, leaning in close from behind him. "Is it me?~ Aww, that makes me flustered."

"Charlotte, please mind your distance," Liam replied evenly, not even turning to look at her. "This place is already crowded enough. I don’t need your unnecessary physical contact right now."

"But I need to get physical," she said smoothly, her lips curling into a sly, seductive smile. "I’m freezing, you know. A little body heat would really help."

Liam finally glanced at her, his expression completely flat. "Go find someone else."

She puffed out her cheeks in an exaggerated pout. "Oh, come on. Why do you always have to be like that?" she began, only to be cut off abruptly.

Heavy, echoing footsteps rang out across the hall, sharp and deliberate, instantly silencing the surrounding chatter. Conversations died mid-sentence as every student’s attention snapped forward.

From the front of the hall, four figures strode calmly onto the raised platform. Each of them wore full knightly attire, swords resting at their sides, and each radiated an unmistakable air of authority that pressed down on the room like weight.

"Good morning, students of the Dark Knight Academy," announced the most muscular of the four, his deep voice carrying effortlessly through the vast space. "I trust many of you already know who I am, but introductions are in order nonetheless. My name is Sir Kaelen Bane, head instructor for all Beast-affinity users."

His gaze swept across the gathered students, sharp and assessing.

"I hope you all enjoyed your rest," he continued, a faint edge creeping into his tone, "because it will be the last proper rest you’ll have for the remainder of this month."

Kaelen allowed the silence to stretch for a , his presence alone enough to keep the vast hall locked in rapt attention. Then he straightened fully, broad shoulders rolling back beneath polished armor, and continued as if he were addressing soldiers rather than students.

"As most of you have already guessed," he said, voice steady and unyielding, "this month will not resemble your usual academic routine. There will be no leisurely pacing, no gradual easing back into form. This training period exists for one reason—to prepare you for the remainder of the academic year while simultaneously reevaluating where you stand." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Not where you think you stand. Where you actually belong."

A low murmur rippled through the hall, quickly smothered as Kaelen lifted a single hand. The gesture alone was enough to reclaim control.

"This month will determine your rankings," he went on. "It will determine how your instructors view you, how your peers measure themselves against you, and how the academy itself will invest its resources in you going forward. Strength, skill, discipline, adaptability, mental resilience—every weakness you’ve been hiding will surface. Every strength you’ve neglected will either sharpen... or rot."

Behind him, the other three knights stood unmoving, silent sentinels whose mere presence reinforced his words. Their gazes roamed the hall with the practiced ease of veterans who had seen far worse than anxious students.

"The training period will be divided into four sections," Kaelen continued, his tone shifting slightly, becoming almost instructional. "Each section will last one week. Each will focus on different aspects of your growth—physical conditioning, myst control, combat adaptability, mental endurance, teamwork, and decision-making under pressure. None of these areas exist in isolation, and neither will your training."

He paused, letting that sink in before adding, "Every section builds upon the last. Fail to adapt early, and the later weeks will not be kind to you."

Several students swallowed hard. Others straightened unconsciously, as though bracing themselves for impact.

"However," Kaelen said, a faint, humorless smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth, "do not expect the luxury of knowing everything in advance. You will not be given a full breakdown of the month today." A few startled looks appeared, quickly replaced by frowns. "You will be informed of each week’s objectives only when that week begins. Preparation through certainty breeds complacency. We are not here to make you comfortable."

His gaze sharpened, sweeping the room once more. "For now, you will be told about the first week—and only the first week—when the time comes."

A tense quiet followed, thick with unease and restrained anticipation. Even Dylan, usually incapable of silence, had shut his mouth, eyes fixed forward. Liam felt the weight of Kaelen’s words settle deep in his chest, not as fear, but as something heavier and more sobering. This was not a trial to survive. It was an evaluation to endure.

Kaelen took a single step back, then spread his arms slightly. "But before we discuss anything further," he said calmly, "you will move."

At his words, the air in front of the platform shimmered. Space itself seemed to fold inward, myst curling and condensing until two massive portals tore open with a low, resonant hum. One glowed with a pale, steely blue light. The other burned with a deeper, darker hue, edges rippling like disturbed water.

A collective intake of breath swept through the hall.

"The portal on your left," Kaelen said, gesturing without looking, "is for first-year students." His hand shifted to the opposite side. "The portal on your right is for second-years. There will be no exceptions. Enter calmly. Do not push. Do not hesitate."

For a brief moment, no one moved. Then the crowd began to stir.

Second-years peeled away first, forming a steady stream toward the right portal. First-years followed suit, nerves evident in their posture as they moved toward the left. Groups separated naturally, conversations reduced to murmurs before fading altogether. One by one, students stepped into the glowing thresholds and vanished, their figures swallowed instantly by swirling light.

Liam’s group moved together, instinctively close, though no one spoke. Dylan cast one last glance around the hall before stepping forward, his usual bravado tempered by something more serious. Max squared his shoulders. Ariana took a slow, steady breath. Sheila’s expression was composed, though her fingers curled slightly at her side. Charlotte slipped into the portal with a playful sway, her grin lingering just a second longer than necessary.

Liam was among the last of his year to enter. As he crossed the threshold, the hum of the portal filled his senses, myst brushing against his skin like a living thing. The hall vanished behind him in an instant.

Once the students were gone, the four knights advanced.

Without ceremony, two of them turned toward the right portal, their armored forms passing through without pause. Kaelen and the remaining knight stepped into the left portal, the glow briefly intensifying as they disappeared as well.

A heartbeat later, both portals collapsed inward, light folding into nothingness as if they had never existed at all.

The grand training hall stood empty.