Outside Blue Plum High, a crowd of excited students gathered near the massive hover bus waiting at the gate. The metallic hum of its levitation filled the air, and faint ripples of light shimmered beneath it like water disturbed by invisible waves.
"Alright everyone, listen up," Elaine called, her sharp voice cutting through the chatter. "Exactly fifteen of you passed the strength test."
A murmur spread through the group. Fifteen out of nearly two hundred students that was no small feat.
"That's quite impressive, for a E-grade city," Elaine added with a sigh. "Looks like the scholarship programs are finally doing their job. We could use more talented young people at the frontlines."
Her last words made a few students exchange uneasy glances.
"The frontlines?" Mary whispered under her breath.
"Yeah," Hank rumbled from beside Elaine, his thick arms crossed. His tone was grim, like a soldier who had seen too much. "The situation there is getting worse. The beasts from Willow Shade Forest have been pushing deeper into our borders lately. Even the Ash Guard is stretched thin."
Rohan, who had been quietly watching the students, finally spoke up his voice sharp and filled with disdain. "And let's not forget the Grand Théâtre. Those lunatics have been getting bolder. Attacking supply lines, destroying relay towers… they're like a cancer that refuses to die."
At the mention of that name, the three examiners fell silent. The air grew heavy.
Even the students, who barely understood the name, felt the shift in atmosphere.
About three hundred years ago, after the world collapsed and reformed under the banner of the United States Convention, humanity finally achieved unity. Nations dissolved, borders vanished, and the Convention ruled with order and stability. But peace never lasts forever.
The Grand Théâtre was born from chaos a union of criminals, exiles, and zealots who rejected the Convention's rule. They gathered in the desolate wastelands of the far north, far from civilization. At first, they were nothing more than scattered rebels, too fractured to be a threat.
But then he appeared.
The Grand Artist an unknown Ash Saint whose abilities defied comprehension. Under his command, the north was unified in blood and fire. Entire strongholds vanished overnight, and when the Convention finally responded, it was too late.
Five Ash Saints were sent north to end him. Only four returned.
When questioned, the surviving Saints gave only one chilling statement:
"The farther you go into the north, the more reality itself twists. You fight not only the land but his art. The Dark Saint… was lost to the canvas of his madness."
The story had long become legend, but even now, its shadow lingered.
"Enough of this talk," Hank grunted, breaking the tension. "Let's finish what we came here for. The faster we're done, the fewer we'll lose on the frontlines."
"Agreed," Elaine said briskly. "Everyone, board the bus."
The students moved quickly. Nicotine stood for a moment, staring in awe at the massive vehicle before him. Unlike ordinary buses, this one floated gracefully above the ground, humming softly. Blue runes flickered beneath its surface, casting faint reflections on the cobblestone street.
"That's a hover bus sent by the United States Convention," Jin Fuhua said beside him, his tone as casual as ever. "They use these to transport awakening candidates safely to the USC branch in each city."
Nicotine tilted his head. "But… how does it float? What's the principle behind it?"
Jin smirked. "A bit of physics and a lot of Weaver's Methods."
"Weaver?" Nicotine echoed, puzzled.
"Yeah," Jin said, folding his arms. "Probably the hardest Life Skill to get into even harder than Alchemy. I guess you haven't studied much about Life Skills yet. If you make it into a university, you'll have to pick one as part of your training."
Nicotine nodded, curiosity lighting his eyes as he stepped onto the bus.
The interior looked fairly ordinary cushioned seats, metallic rails, polished floors. But where the driver's seat should have been floated a glowing orb surrounded by swirling threads of light.
"What's that thing?" Nicotine asked, pointing.
"That's the command station," Jin replied. "It helps control Weaver made constructs. Basically, it lets non-Weaver's drive something like this without collapsing the runes inside."
Nicotine leaned closer, eyes wide. "Then what are those glowing threads moving around it?"
Jin blinked. "What threads?"
"Those…." Nicotine paused, then frowned as he realized Jin couldn't see them. "You mean… you don't see them?"
Jin stared at him for a moment, his expression shocked. "You can see threads on the orb?"
"Yeah? Why are you making such a fuss?" Nicotine asked, genuinely confused.
Before Jin could respond, Elaine who had been standing at the front turned sharply. "Wait. You can see the threads?"
Her voice drew Hank and Rohan's attention instantly.
"Yeah," Nicotine said, scratching his head. "Is that weird or something?"
The three examiners exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from disbelief to shock.
"It's… normal you don't understand the significance," Elaine finally said, taking a deep breath. "This is an E-grade city most of you probably haven't been exposed to higher level concepts."
She turned to address the entire bus. "Listen carefully. This concerns all of you."
The chatter died instantly.
"In the United States Convention, everyone who becomes an Ash Warrior is required to learn at least one Life Skill. These aren't combat skills, but disciplines that strengthen both your body and soul. Alchemy, Blacksmithing, Weaving and many more all of them fall under Life Skills."
Elaine gestured toward Hank. "For example, Hank here is a blacksmith. If you awaken a weapon type Martial Soul, you'll need a blacksmith to forge a physical vessel for it something to anchor your soul weapon in the material world."
She then turned to the floating orb. "But even the best weapon means nothing without a Weaver. They're the ones who connect your weapon to your spirit through invisible Soul Threads the same ones this orb is covered in."
Her eyes returned to Nicotine. "And the fact that you can see them means you've already crossed the first threshold."
The students gasped.
"Weavers," Elaine continued, "use mystical methods to manipulate reality. By weaving these threads into complex formations, they can create barriers that protect cities, traps that capture Ash Beasts, or enchantments that empower warriors. It's one of the most difficult and most respected Life Skills in existence. Fewer than one in a hundred ever qualify."
Nicotine's eyes widened. "That's… incredible."
"Indeed," Elaine said, smiling faintly. "But Life Skills aren't just for convenience. They also strengthen your soul. The higher your proficiency, the stronger your Martial Soul becomes. At the same level, an opponent with greater Soul Strength will always dominate and mastering a Life Skill is the most reliable way to grow that strength."
The explanation left the students in awe. Even Lance, who had been standing near the back with his usual arrogance, looked shaken.
"So," Elaine concluded, "since you can already perceive the threads, you've passed the first hurdle of becoming a Weaver. No matter what level of Martial Soul you awaken, you're guaranteed a place at any of our universities."
Nicotine blinked. "R-Really?!"
Mary gasped, eyes shining. "That's amazing, Nicotine!"
"Hmph," Lance muttered from the side, folding his arms. "So what? It's not that impressive."
"Jealousy doesn't suit you," Jin murmured, smirking.
Before the argument could escalate, the bus slowed to a stop. The glowing orb dimmed, and the mechanical hum faded.
"We've arrived," said the driver, who pulled his hands away from the orb as the bus settled onto the platform.
Outside, the United States Convention Branch loomed a massive white structure covered in runes that pulsed faintly with power.
Elaine turned toward the students, her expression softening slightly. "Alright, everyone. It's time. Step out your awakening awaits."
Nicotine exhaled deeply, heart pounding.