Then Archery is my path

August 20, 3108

Today is the day of the entrance exam.

The previous days passed in a blur, filled with anticipation after I sent all the necessary documents to the admissions committee. The confirmation system informed me that the exam would take place on August 20th at the academy's premises, with a specific recommendation: arrive in comfortable clothes without specialized equipment.

Wearing black pants, sports boots, a plain T-shirt, and a gray hoodie, I made my way toward the academy.

Situated at a distance from the capital, the academy is under its jurisdiction yet operates with full autonomy. It is not obligated to follow the orders of clans or the HTU for the most part.

Daily, three underground metro trains run to the academy. These trains are typically used by academy staff, as students are forbidden to leave its territory without a significant reason. When I boarded the train, it was already packed with teenagers. Their destination was obvious, and now, I was one of them.

Most of the passengers came from affluent families—wealthy but not extraordinarily so. Almost everyone on this train wouldn't even make it past the first stage of the exam. The real contenders, the elites, would arrive in their own cars.

As soon as I emerged from the underground station, the academy loomed before me. It reminded me of the Cindercrest clan's territory, though it had more specialized buildings than residential ones.

Above the sidewalk leading from the subway exit was a large sign marking the boundary of the academy grounds. Two routes were highlighted: one in blue and the other in red. Each path led to one of the two major faculties of the academy—ManaArmis and ManaDomain.

I made my way toward the ManaArmis building, the faculty I had applied to. In front of it was an enormous gymnasium. A significant number of people had already gathered there. Some were simply observing their surroundings, others were grouped together, animatedly discussing various topics, while a few had started doing light exercises to warm up.

Representatives from various clans and guilds were also present, although none of them were familiar to me.

Then, I heard a voice exclaim:

"Isn't that Astrel from Cindercrest?"

I turned toward the source of the voice and immediately spotted a group of people. Their eyes were fixed on the central entrance of the gymnasium, where he stood.

Astrel.

The boy I knew all too well from my childhood. Short blond hair, piercing red eyes, and a body honed to perfection—his muscles were visible even through his clothes. His massive hands and legs gave him an imposing presence, but it was the expression on his face that truly defined him. That same look I hadn't forgotten—a look that screamed as though the entire world owed him something.

"Astrel, what the hell are you doing here?"

I muttered under my breath, quickly pulling my hood over my head to make my face less visible. My eyes locked onto him, studying his movements as I kept my distance.

The moment Astrel entered the gymnasium, a group of people immediately surrounded him, vying for his attention. As expected, he ignored them all, not sparing even a glance. Instead, he scanned the room, his eyes sharp and calculating, until they fixed in my direction.

There's no way he recognizes me...

Panic surged through me, and I instinctively moved closer to the wall of the building, hoping to blend into the background. But to my dismay, his gaze didn't waver. He seemed focused, as if searching for something—or someone.

Then, just as I was about to convince myself it was a coincidence, he began walking in my direction. My pulse quickened, but before reaching me, he stopped near another group of people. His piercing gaze locked onto someone else: a boy with dark blue hair, striking blue eyes, and a body just as trained as Astrel's, though slightly leaner.

The boy's demeanor shifted immediately. His face turned serious, his expression edged with aggression, clearly responding to Astrel's penetrating stare and the faint, challenging smile on his lips.

They began a dialogue, but I couldn't hear their words from where I stood. Instead, I noticed how the room's energy shifted. A large portion of the crowd now focused their attention on the two, sensing the tension between them.

A voice from nearby caught my attention.

"I didn't think Cindercrest would allow Astrel to enter the academy a year early just to compete with GlacierDominion's new representative."

"Since childhood, they've been compared, always competing to see who's stronger. Looks like the clan leaders decided to pit them against each other directly this time."

Good, I thought, relieved. If Astrel is focused on someone else, he won't even notice me.

I sighed softly, but memories of the past crept into my mind. I knew all too well how Astrel operated. Once, that obsession for his rival had been directed at me.

Before I could dwell on it further, the doors of the gymnasium opened again, and two more figures entered. A wave of whispers rippled through the room.

"Wow, two more personalities from the major clans," someone murmured nearby.

I turned my gaze toward the entrance. Two girls walked in, engrossed in conversation. Their presence was striking.

The first girl had long blonde hair tied into a sleek ponytail, her golden eyes exuding a serious, almost commanding aura. The second girl, in contrast, had short black hair and piercing violet eyes. Her demeanor was more relaxed, less intense, yet still captivating in a way that was hard to ignore.

The first one, I don't know… but the second one looks familiar, I thought, narrowing my eyes as I tried to place her.

Snippets of conversation from the crowd filled in the gaps for me.

"I knew the representative from the Angel Warriors clan would be here, but who's the second girl?"

"You live under a rock or something? That's Lunaris Duskthorn. Even if she's a year younger, you should know descendants from the major clans."

"Wait, she's younger than us? Then why is she already here?"

"You're seriously clueless, huh? She's engaged to Astrel. Wherever he goes, she's always close behind."

Once I heard her name, a memory from the past resurfaced in my mind.

I was transported to a scene from years ago: a little girl with long black hair that cascaded down her back like an extension of the surrounding darkness. She was sitting on a chair on the terrace of a house where yet another celebration was being held—a gathering I had been forced to attend. She was crying softly, her small frame trembling as she tried to suppress her sobs.

I had been overwhelmed by the crowd inside, exhausted from the endless stream of people asking me the same mindless questions over and over again. Using the excuse of feeling tired because of the late hour, I slipped away from the gathering and stepped outside for some air.

That's when I saw her. Approaching quietly, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, holding it out to her.

"Take it. Adults don't like it when we're full of tears. Better to wipe them away before they notice you."

She glanced up at me, her teary eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before she quickly wiped her face with her hands instead.

"I'm not crying!" she said, her voice defiant yet shaky.

"Sure," I replied, smirking. "Then why aren't you crying?"

The unexpected question seemed to catch her off guard. She lowered her gaze back to the ground, her voice becoming small and shy.

"Astrel keeps making fun of me," she murmured.

"Astrel? Cindercrest?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of course, who else?"

"Why even talk to him in the first place? If I had the chance, I'd run every time I saw him."

"I will be his wife," she admitted, her tone filled with resignation.

"Wife? Astrel's? Do you even like him?"

"NO!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with frustration. "But Dad said so, so I don't have a choice." She hesitated, then looked at me with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Why can't you get rid of him?"

"We're from the same clan, plus we're from the same family," I replied.

Hearing that, her body tensed, and she seemed on the verge of tears again.

"No, no, no! Even if we're from the same clan, I'm not friends with him," I quickly added, hoping to calm her down.

"Really?!" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as if she were trying to determine whether I was telling the truth.

"Yes, I guarantee it!" I assured her.

She stared at me for a moment longer, then seemed to relax. Just as the atmosphere lightened, my mother's voice called out from the house.

"Kail, come back!"

I stood up from the chair reluctantly.

"I have to go," I said, turning to leave.

As I started walking back toward the house, I heard her small voice behind me.

"What's your name?"

I paused, glancing back over my shoulder.

"Kail. Yours?"

"Luna," she replied softly.

That was the first time I met Luna. I saw her again at other celebrations over the years, but our conversations never went beyond polite greetings. She belonged to the faction that supported Astrel, while I represented a branch of the Cindercrest clan with my own circle of supporters. Even though we lived in the same world, we were on opposite sides of a deeply entrenched divide.

It seems she forgot me.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen her since I was declared dead. The girl who was on the same public transport when I departed for my first mission for the agency. Back then, I had no idea she was part of the Duskthorn clan—at least not until I saw her later with her father, who was speaking with Mr. Henry.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a voice projected from the walls of the hall.

"Good morning. In a few minutes, the entrance exam to Altgard Academy will begin."

The entrance doors suddenly shut, followed by the windows sealing off any view of the outside. The room was illuminated entirely by the bright LEDs mounted on the stadium roof, casting a stark, almost clinical light over everyone.

"Senior-year students will now distribute your number plates. These plates are crucial—they determine your status during the exam. If, for any reason, the plate becomes separated from your coat, whether it falls off or is removed, you will be immediately disqualified."

From the opposite entrance, a group of about 100 senior-year students entered the hall, all clad in the academy's official uniform. Each of them carried a silver box held firmly in both hands. They moved methodically through the room, handing each of us a small circular badge with a number inscribed on it.

I examined mine: 954.

Considering there are about 1,000 people here, they probably don't expect me to pass even the first stage.

Altgard admitted approximately 300 students per faculty each year, making a total of just 600 first-year students. It was an unbelievably small number compared to the human population on the continent, which exceeded 2.6 billion. However, when taking into account the rigorous factors required to even reach this hall—let alone succeed in the exam—the number seemed rational.

A voice echoed once again through the hall, its tone both formal and final:

"The entrance exam for the generation of the year 3108 is now officially declared open. Good luck to all participants."