Some days later—
I sat alone in my room, staring at the ceiling.
My thoughts wouldn't stop.
If I want to join the Royal Academy…
then I need to be at least a C-rank adventurer.
And fifteen years old.
I have neither.
I'm eight.
And I've never even registered at the Adventurers' Guild.
I sighed.
Father did say he'd take me to the guild someday.
But for some reason… he hasn't talked to me properly these past few days.
Did I say something wrong?
Did I embarrass him… during the duel?
I clenched my small fists.
Before I could sink deeper into my thoughts—
The door opened.
"So," a familiar voice said calmly.
"Here you are.
I turned my head.
Father stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Come with me," he continued. "I want to show you something."
I didn't argue.
I simply nodded and got up.
We walked through the long corridors of the mansion in silence.
The sound of our footsteps echoed softly against marble floors.
Father didn't speak.
And neither did I.
Alistair Void's thoughts
"I know my son is extraordinary.
No—
Abnormally extraordinary.
But what was Aurelius thinking?
He casually suggested that Solaris should join the Royal Academy.
Royal Academy…
Just calling it a "high-class academy" would be an insult.
Even calling it the highest-ranked academy wouldn't be enough.
The Royal Academy holds the highest authority in the entire Realm of Astira.
No kingdom.
No empire.
None of them can lay a finger on it.
Its decisions are final.
In one word—
The Royal Academy is the true ruler of Astira.
Only Saint Candidates, Hero Candidates, and those of Royal Blood are truly welcome there.
Yes, technically anyone can take the entrance test.
If they work hard enough, they might even pass.
But graduating?
That's a different story.
Only true geniuses manage to graduate in there.
And normal people?
They don't even dare to try.
Because the Academy's yearly student casualty rate is… massive.
Students don't "drop out".
They die.
Saints and Hero Candidates survive because they are blessed by fate itself.
Royal families survive because they possess secret cultivation techniques passed down for generations.
Some nobles and rare commoners live through it due to special abilities.
But the rest?
Crushed.
If someone manages to graduate—
They are treated with the highest respect across all of Astira.
Truth be told…
Aurelius and I both studied there.
I became a Sword King.
And yet—
I failed to graduate.
And here my son is, talking about joining the Royal Academy as casually as one would speak of tomorrow's breakfast."
---
We arrived at a place I had never seen before.
The corridor opened into a vast, unfamiliar hall—its ceiling arched high, etched with ancient patterns that pulsed faintly with magic. The air itself felt… dense. Heavy. Like something was watching.
I looked around, uneasily.
"Father," I asked, tugging slightly at his sleeve. "What is this place? I've never been here before."
He stopped.
"This," Alistair said calmly, "is the Research Hall."
Research…?
"I want to see the affinity of your attributes."
I blinked.
"Ah… affinity?"
"Attributes…?"
Before I could ask further, Father gestured forward.
At the center of the hall stood a massive magic circle engraved into the floor. It shimmered with shifting rainbow light. Surrounding it were six crystalline stones, each glowing with a different color—red, blue, brown, green, white, and black.
"Stand in the middle of the circle," Father instructed.
I hesitated for half a second.
"…Okay."
I stepped forward and stood at the center.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then slowly, the circle beneath my feet began to glow.
Father began explaining, his voice steady and instructional.
"Nature possesses six fundamental elements," he said.
"Fire. Water. Earth. Wind. Light. Dark."
The symbols around me brightened.
"All living beings can control these elements to a certain extent through mana. The number of elements that respond to a person's will—those are called Attributes."
The stones trembled faintly.
"Most people possess only one attribute," he continued. "I do as well. Wind."
I listened quietly.
"Geniuses may have two."
"A Hero or Saint Candidate may possess up to four."
The glow intensified.
"But raw numbers don't determine talent," Father said seriously. "What truly matters are Leads—how many attributes you can properly control."
He paused.
"If someone has four attributes but no leads, they are useless."
"…Like a sweater on a snowman."
I frowned, trying to process that analogy.
"With your unnatural growth," Father continued in thought, "I believe Solaris will be a Hero Candidate. At least two, maybe three attributes. And at least two leads."
The scene shifted.
The magic circle beneath me flared.
Brighter.
Brighter.
The six stones around the circle began to shake violently, their light becoming unstable.
"Father…?" I asked, my voice uncertain.
"What's happening?"
Alistair snapped out of his thoughts and looked at me—
And froze.
"…What?"
His eyes widened.
"…Why is his mana reacting to all the magic stones?"
The air roared.
"And what is this density—?! Why are the stones shaking?!"
Then—
BOOOM
BOOOM
BOOOOM
BOOM
BOOOM
BOOM
Six explosions
Every single stone shattered at once.
The shockwave blasted outward, throwing Father several meters back.
"SOLARIS—!!" he shouted.
"ARE YOU OKAY, MY BOY?!"
Smoke filled the hall.
Dust drifted slowly to the ground.
From within the haze, my voice emerged.
"…I'm okay, Father."
Inside my head, I sighed.
Why does everything in this household explode?
Father rushed forward and lifted me into his arms, gripping me tightly.
"…It looks like you possess all six attributes," he said hoarsely.
"And all six leads."
He covered his face with one hand.
"…How do you keep doing this?"
Six attributes?
"How in the hell can someone possess both Light and Dark at the same time…?"
"How…?"
His voice cracked slightly.
"…I'm going to die from these constant shocks."
I looked at him worriedly.
"Father… is having six attributes and leads not normal?"
He stared at me.
"Obviously not normal!" he shouted.
"Who would think that's normal?!"
My chest tightened.
"…Not normal?" I whispered.
"So… how many attributes does a normal boy have?"
Father exhaled and calmed himself.
"A normal person has one. Maybe two. Why?"
I looked up.
"How many do you have?"
"One."
I nodded slowly.
"Oh… that's why you were so strong."
Father blinked.
"…Huh?"
I continued innocently.
"So lower-attribute people are strong like you, and higher-attribute people are weak."
"That's not what I meant!" Father protested.
"Yes, I'm strong—but that doesn't mean higher-attribute people are weak!"
My hands trembled.
"I—I'm not n-normal…"
"I'm not normal… I'm not normal…"
Father looked at me silently.
Then he sighed, exhausted.
"…I think it's too late to explain this properly today."
He turned away slightly.
"I'll talk to him tomorrow."
---
[And just like that—
The Research Hall fell silent again.
But something irreversible had already been revealed.]
---