The following morning, Matthew was led into the Great Hall of the Academy. It was a massive, circular chamber with a floor made of blue crystal that seemed to pulse with an inner light. Standing in the center were three figures who radiated an intensity that made the air feel thick: Inquisitor Vane, a woman in red leather armor with a massive claymore on her back, and an elderly man whose skin looked like weathered bark.
Dean Alexander stood on a raised dais above them, his presence looming over the room. "Begin the lecture, Master Thorne. The boy needs to understand the mechanics of his own nature before we begin the evaluation."
The elderly man, Thorne, stepped forward. He tapped a staff against the crystal floor, and a holographic image of a human torso appeared in the air, revealing a glowing orb where the heart should be.
The Three Pillars of the Core
"Listen well, survivor," Thorne croaked, his eyes tracking the light of the hologram. "Every soul possesses a Core—a crystalline organ that acts as the battery of life. There are three primary classifications of Cores, and they dictate your entire life's path. First, we have the Elemental Cores, the most common type. These are the Shapers. Their cores vibrate at frequencies aligned with the natural world: Fire, Water, Earth, Air, and Lightning. A Fire-type core gives the ability to manifest heat; a Water-type allows for fluid manipulation. These are our Mages and Elemental Knights."
He tapped his staff again, and the hologram shifted to show glowing veins of energy pumping through the muscles. "Second are the Physical Cores, the Enhancers. These cores do not manifest energy outside the body. Instead, they pump mana directly into the muscles, bones, and blood. They grant superhuman strength, speed, and durability. These are your Warriors and Mercenaries. Your father, Matthew, likely possessed a high-grade Physical Core—allowing him to move faster than the eye could see."
Thorne paused, looking at Matthew with a mixture of pity and fascination. "And then, there are the Special or Concept Cores. These are the anomalies. They manifest abstract concepts like Gravity, Time, Illusion, or Space. They are the most dangerous and the most unstable."
The old man extinguished the hologram. "And then... there is your core. The Null Core. It is not a battery; it is a vacuum. You do not shape, enhance, or conceptualize. You erase. Your ability is Mana Negation. Any spell cast near you will unravel. Any enchanted blade that touches you will lose its edge. You are the natural enemy of every other living creature that relies on mana."
The Ranks of the World
The woman in red armor, Master Alicia, stepped forward. Her voice was like grinding stones, harsh and commanding. "Knowledge is useless without a scale of power. In this Academy, and in the world beyond, we rank all living beings by the Star System. It is a ten-tier hierarchy that defines your standing in society."
She began to pace, her heavy boots clicking on the crystal. "Ranks one through three, often called Iron or Copper, are the students and common soldiers. They can enhance a single strike or light a candle. Ranks four through six, the Silver and Gold tiers, are the professional Knights and seasoned Mercenaries. These are men able to level a building or wipe out a platoon; this is where most elites stop. Ranks seven through nine are the Platinum and Diamond tiers, reserved for High-Knights and Arch-Mages who face A-Class monsters. Finally, there is Rank Ten—the Calamity class. These are National Heroes. Men who can duel S-Class monsters. Your father lived in this shadow, even if he kept it hidden."
"You," Inquisitor Vane sneered, breaking his silence, "are currently a Rank Zero. You have the engine of a titan and the body of a peasant. If you enter the Academy, you start at the bottom—the F-Class dregs. You will be bullied, you will be beaten, and you will be expected to fail."
The Disciplines of the Kingdom
Caelum ignored Vane's jab and continued. "Depending on your core and your choice of career, you will eventually fall into one of the Four Disciplines. The Knights are the shield of the Kingdom, bound by honor and regulated strictly by the Crown. The Mages are the heavy artillery, those who study the depths of mana and are regulated by this Academy. Then there are the Mercenaries—men of profit and versatility who take high-risk jobs through the Guilds. Finally, there are the Adventurers. They are the scouts who venture into 'Dead Zones' to hunt monsters for loot and fame."
Matthew processed the information, his mind racing. "What is my ability then? If I don't have fire or strength, how am I supposed to fight?"
"That is the tragedy of your position," Alexander said from the dais. "A Null Core has no 'skills' because skills require the shaping of mana. You cannot shape what you destroy. Your only skill is your presence. You must learn to fight as a pure physical combatant while using your core to drag everyone else down to your level. You must learn to be the only man with a sharp piece of steel in a world of wizards. You will be the ultimate equalizer."
"And the Adventurers?" Matthew asked, thinking of the ruins of his home. "Why do they hunt the monsters? Is it just for the money?"
"For the Essence Stones," Thorne explained. "Monsters carry cores too. When they die, their mana crystallizes. A Rank Five Adventurer can live like a king for a year on a single S-Class fragment. But you... you can't use stones to power up like others do. If you touch a stone, your core will likely shatter it before you can absorb its power."
Matthew realized the trap he was in. He was in an Academy dedicated to the study of mana, yet he was the one thing that made mana impossible. He was a Knight without a shield, a Mage without a spell. He looked up at the Dean, his jaw set in a hard line.
"I want to see my sister," Matthew said.
"Pass the first trial," Alexander replied. "Prove that you can hold your core steady without draining the life from the students around you. If you succeed, you will be enrolled as a 'Special Scholarship' student. If you fail... well, the Inquisitor has a cell waiting for you that is lined with mana-suppressing stone."
Matthew stood tall, the cold violet spark in his chest beginning to thrum with a slow, steady pulse. He didn't need their stars or their elemental fire. He had the memory of his father's last stand and the weight of his sister's future on his back. He was a hole in the world, and he would make that world fall into him.
"When do we start?"
Alexander's eyes glinted with a dark satisfaction. "Now. Welcome to the F-Class, Matthew of Oakhaven. Try not to die on your first day."