Whispers of Omniscience

Zero sat in the lecture hall, his expression empty as the instructor paced before the class. The day's lesson? The Lost Clans and the Purge.

The professor, an elderly scholar with a sharp gaze, cleared his throat. "The world has always been shaped by bloodlines. Strength is inherited. Power is cultivated. But not all bloodlines are meant to exist."

Zero felt his fingers clench beneath his desk.

"Let us begin with the Sageborn," the professor continued, his voice steady as he projected an image of a radiant civilization. "Their intellect rivaled that of the gods. They predicted wars before they happened, crafted inventions centuries ahead of their time, and wielded knowledge that terrified the ruling powers."

A noble student scoffed. "And they were wiped out because of it. Arrogance breeds destruction."

The professor nodded. "Indeed. The Great Unification War saw every major kingdom band together to erase them. Their libraries were burned, their language lost, and their people... exterminated."

Zero kept his face blank.

"Of course, not all Sageborn perished. Rumors speak of survivors, but without their records, their once-glorious wisdom is now nothing more than myth."

Zero exhaled slowly. A myth. That was what they called his kin now.

The professor shifted to another image—a barren wasteland. "Then we have the Duskwalkers, also known as the Cursed Ones—those of mixed heritage. Their bloodlines carried traits from multiple clans, making them unpredictable, dangerous. The Empires decreed them unnatural, and so they were hunted down."

Lyra lowered her head.

Zero caught that reaction.

So that's what she is. A Duskwalker.

"Survivors were branded and forced into servitude or exile," the professor continued, "and those who resisted were executed. It was mercy compared to what the royal families originally planned."

Zero almost laughed. Mercy?

A noble student raised a hand. "What about the Draconic Bloodlines? The Fiends? The Moonborn?"

"Gone. All of them." The professor sighed. "Powerful, but too rare to sustain. A reminder that strength alone is never enough."

The professor then paused and looked at the class. "This leads us to something crucial: power itself is not enough. Understanding power is the true path to survival."

He turned and inscribed a system on the blackboard.

The Power Scaling System

"To measure one's capabilities, we have divided cultivation into five primary stages:"

Foundation Stage - The entry-level, where one builds their core strength and techniques.

Adept Stage - Mastery over basic combat and an introduction to advanced arts.

Ascendant Stage - Those who begin wielding powers beyond natural limits.

Grandmaster Stage - A rare level where individuals can alter battlefields with a thought.

Paragon Stage - Legends, rulers, and those who shape history.

"Beyond these? There are myths. Theories of power beyond mortal reach."

A student raised a hand. "And what about abilities? How do we classify them?"

The professor continued, "Abilities are categorized into three primary domains: Martial Arts, which focus on physical techniques; Arcane Techniques, which harness elemental or esoteric forces; and Forbidden Knowledge, which operates beyond the natural order. Each has its own risks and restrictions."

Zero listened carefully, already analyzing his own standing. By their standards, I'm still at the Foundation Stage. But my true power...

The professor smirked. "And remember, power is not just strength. It is intelligence, adaptability, and deception. Many who stand high on this ladder have fallen to those who understood it better."

Zero's lips curled slightly. That, I already know.

The Hidden Powers

As the class ended, murmurs spread among the students.

"Did you hear? The factions are making their first appearances today."

"Who are you aiming for? The Silverfangs? The Hollow Order?"

"I heard the Phantom Veil only recruits those with secrets."

Zero listened carefully.

The academy wasn't just a place for learning. It was a battlefield of influence. Students aligned themselves with factions that shaped their future—mercenary guilds, noble houses, underground organizations.

A royal heir spoke loudly. "It doesn't matter what faction you join. When the Tournament of Houses begins, only the strongest will stand."

Zero raised an eyebrow.

A tournament?

Before he could think further, a powerful voice echoed through the halls.

"All students, gather at the Grand Assembly. The Headmaster will speak."

The Grand Assembly was a colossal hall, filled with thousands of students. At the center stood Headmaster Veyrin, a towering figure clad in black robes lined with silver.

"This academy has long served as the crucible of power," he declared. "But only those who prove themselves are worthy of true strength."

A murmur spread through the crowd.

"This year, the Tournament of Houses will determine who truly deserves to stand at the pinnacle. Teams will be formed, alliances tested, and only the finest will claim the rewards beyond imagination."

Zero felt the weight of the announcement settle in.

A Lesson in Power

On the way back from the assembly, Zero noticed a commotion. A young student—Ren, a half-blood from a fallen noble house—was being cornered in the halls. Three upperclassmen blocked his path.

"You don't belong here, half-breed."

Ren gritted his teeth. "Step aside."

One of the seniors cracked his knuckles. "Your family lost everything. That means you lost your right to stand here."

Zero watched, waiting.

The senior raised a fist.

Then tripped. Hard.

He crashed into the ground, face-first, while his friends staggered. The force was unnatural—as if gravity itself had betrayed him.

The hall fell silent.

Zero blinked, feigning confusion. "Huh? What happened? You just... collapsed."

The upperclassmen scrambled up, their faces red with anger and embarrassment.

Ren glanced at Zero, realization flickering in his eyes.

Zero turned, his expression unreadable.

Then he went back to his dorm. 

The Spy Moves First

That night, Zero sensed it.

A presence outside his dorm. Someone watching.

He waited. Then, with a flick of his fingers, the door swung open violently.

A shadowy figure tried to retreat—but Zero was faster. In an instant, he seized the intruder and dragged them inside, slamming the door shut.

"Who sent you?" he asked coldly.

The spy trembled. "I—"

Zero tightened his grip. "Speak."

They choked out, "You were never meant to exist."

Zero's eyes darkened. Then I will show them why I do.