The next day.
Simon sat across from Eira Sylvana in her office, the morning sun filtering through the tall windows behind her. Her desk was neatly arranged, except for one folder resting at its center.
"Why did you call me?" Simon asked, leaning back slightly, his eyes fixed on her.
Without answering right away, Eira placed her hand on the folder and slid it across the table toward him.
Simon raised an eyebrow, then glanced down, flipping it open. Inside was a list—names, ages, genders, and the Astral Skills possessed by each person. But before reading any further, Simon looked back up at her, silently asking for clarification.
Eira met his gaze and spoke plainly.
"If you want to join Beetle Academy, you'll need more than just raw talent—you need a complete profile. I'm helping you build that." She tapped the file in his hands.
"Your file is already impressive: your first wilderness mission earned over 100 million credits. The second? Another 100 million and also brought back a Heaven-and-Earth treasure. You're a tri-ability 3-Star Astral Lord who soloed a Level-6 Awakened Dreadbeast."
She paused, letting the weight of the accomplishments settle in.
"It's almost the perfect file… almost."
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she pointed directly at him.
"The problem is, it's all about you."
Simon frowned slightly.
"And that's a problem?"
"Yes," she said. "A complete profile for Beetle Academy isn't just about personal strength. It's about leadership, coordination, and results in team-based operations. That's where these people come in." She nodded toward the list.
Simon flipped through the pages briefly, then looked back at her skeptically.
"And how exactly are they going to help me?"
Eira folded her hands atop the desk.
"The base is currently organizing an expansion project. Due to the rapid increase in population over the past few years, we need to push the borders outward. The first step is to reclaim Sunstone Base—lost five years ago during the Dreadbeast Riot."
She tapped her finger on a set of names listed at the top.
"To do that, all private companies are being asked to send in cleanup teams in exchange for equal returns. These—" she pointed at the list—"are the teams we're sending in under your command."
Simon scanned the names of the teams:
Thief Sons Team
Wolf Breed Team
Falling Feather Team
"You want me to lead them?" he asked, looking back up.
Eira nodded firmly.
"Yes. I want you to bring them back with the most outstanding results possible. If you do that, I'll have enough leverage to submit an appeal to the Academy board for your enter in admission selection trial. This is your opportunity to prove you're more than a lone powerhouse."
Simon looked calm, the gears already turning in his mind.
Simon stared at the file for a moment longer, then closed it with a soft thump.
"Okay," he said, voice calm but resolute. "I'll lead these teams."
Eira leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable—but a flicker of approval glinted in her eyes.
"Good," she said. "I've already informed them. They're waiting in Briefing Room 3 downstairs. You have one week to prepare before deployment. That includes team drills, resource checks, and establishing a chain of command."
Simon nodded, his fingers tapping the folder rhythmically.
"What are their ranks?"
"All members are between 1-Star and 3-Star Astral Lords," Eira replied. "Except the team leaders—they're all 3-Star Astral Lords. Some are raw, but capable. Others..." She paused, her tone sharpening. "Have discipline issues. Especially the Thief Sons. Keep an eye on them."
Simon gave a faint smirk. "Of course it's the team with 'thief' in the name."
Eira allowed herself a dry smile."You're not wrong. But remember—your mission is to unify, not dominate. You're being judged not just on performance, but cohesion. Sunstone Base isn't just a battlefield—it's a proving ground."
Simon stood, slipping the file under his arm. "Then I'll make it count."
As he turned to leave, Eira's voice followed him—quiet, but firm.
"Simon. You're walking into a battlefield of ambition as much as beasts. Don't just fight to win—fight to lead."
He paused at the door, her words settling into the silence like a warning. Without turning back, he gave a small nod and stepped out.
Briefing Room 3 – 20 Minutes Later
The heavy door swung open as Simon entered.
Three distinct groups were already inside, standing apart like rival clans. Some leaned against the walls, others sat with arms crossed, eyes snapping toward the newcomer.
The Thief Sons looked rough—young, cocky, clad in mismatched armor and exuding arrogant confidence.
The Wolf Breed stood tall, disciplined, posture straight like soldiers. Their leader, a woman with wolf tattoos coiled down her arms, sized Simon up with a cold, evaluating glance.
The Falling Feathers were silent, dressed in sleek, lightweight gear designed for speed. Their faces were expressionless—watchful and calculating.
Simon walked to the front of the room and placed the file down on the table.
"My name is Simon Reid. Some of you may have heard of me. Some of you may not," he began, eyes sweeping across the room. "But for the next 5 weeks, I'm your commander."
A few smirks. A couple of raised eyebrows. Still, no one spoke.
"I don't care where you came from. I don't care about your past teams, reputations, or grudges. All I care about is one thing—results."
He turned and wrote Sunstone Base across the whiteboard behind him.
"We're going to reclaim that base. And we're going to do it better, faster, and cleaner than anyone else. If we succeed, you'll gain rewards, clearance for higher-class missions, and recognition."
He paused.
"If we fail... you'll be another forgotten name in a mass grave."
A scoff came from the Thief Sons' side. "Sounds like a lot of talk."
Simon didn't miss a beat.
"Then you'll find out if it is. Tomorrow. 5:00 a.m. sharp. First team drill. Show up late, and you'll run until your legs stop working."
He scanned the room one final time.
"Everyone except the team leaders—dismissed."
The room began to clear. Three figures remained.
Mirel Virelle, leader of the Wolf Breed, stood calm and collected, arms crossed.
Dren Malrick, leader of the Thief Sons, leaned lazily against the wall, draped in mismatched armor and a black coat. His smirk reeked of disdain.
Elunai Maris, leader of the Falling Feathers, stood completely still, her impossibly long violet hair flowing like a living curtain around her feet.
Simon opened his mouth to speak—but Dren cut him off.
"So you're the big boss now, huh? Must be nice—riding the coattails of family name and influence. Just don't try bossing my team around, Reid."
He walked past Simon, bumping his shoulder hard as he left the room.
Simon didn't flinch.
Elunai stepped forward next.
"I'll do what needs to be done," she said simply, her voice cool and detached. Then she turned and walked out without another word.
Simon remained silent.
Only Mirel was left.
She observed him for a moment—calm, unreadable—watching the man who had just stood silently as his team leaders walked out on him.
But she saw it: he wasn't rattled. He wasn't angry.
He was in control.
Intrigued, she walked up to him.
"Simon," she said, extending a hand. "I believe in giving respect where it's earned."
Simon shook it without hesitation—steady and firm, like he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
She held his gaze a moment longer, then gave a short nod and walked out.
Simon stood alone.
The tension lingered like smoke after battle, but he didn't feel pressure.
He felt focus.
As he looked down, black text flickered into view—the cooldown on his ability had finally ended.
Name: Mirel Virelle
Race: Human
Astral Skills: Dragon Bone (Awakened, Replicable),
Bone Manipulation (Awakened, Replicable)
Replicating: Dragon Bone...Replication complete. Install now?
Simon exhaled slowly through his nose, a faint smile playing at his lips.
The pieces were moving.The board was set.The trial had begun.