Chapter 6: The Royal Academy Begins

The weight of the king's words settled over Eryndor like a heavy mantle.

Stay in the capital. Train at the Royal Academy.

It was an opportunity most nobles would kill for an invitation to the most prestigious training institution in the kingdom. But Eryndor knew this wasn't just an honour. It was a test, a way for the royal court to keep him under watch, to measure his potential, and if necessary to eliminate him before he became a threat. He had no intention of failing.

His father, Lord Alaric Valeria, remained silent, his face unreadable, but his mother, Lady Isolde, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her touch was warm, reassuring, yet firm.

"This is your path," she whispered.

Eryndor met her gaze and nodded.

"I accept, Your Majesty."

The king smirked, his gray eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Good."

Two days later, Eryndor arrived at the Royal Academy, his belongings packed into a single trunk.

The Academy was more than just a school. It was a massive, fortress-like institution where the kingdom's elite trained to become warriors, scholars, and future rulers. Towering stone walls enclosed vast training grounds, libraries filled with ancient texts, and dueling arenas where young nobles honed their combat skills. Every brick of the Academy was designed to forge the next generation of leaders and to weed out the weak.

His assigned dormitory was modest yet elegant, far different from the lavish comforts of his family estate. Unlike noble households, where status determined luxury, the Academy enforced equality every student, regardless of rank, lived under the same conditions.

He had barely set his trunk down when a sharp knock echoed from the door.

"Open up, Valeria."

Eryndor opened the door to find a tall, dark-haired boy standing there, arms crossed, flanked by two other students. His confident stance and the smirk playing on his lips told Eryndor everything he needed to know. This was someone used to being in charge.

"I'm Cedric Belmont," the boy introduced himself, his voice laced with authority. "Top student of the first-year class. You must be the so called 'child prodigy.'"

Eryndor raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "And?"

Cedric smirked. "And I want to see if you're worth all the hype."

Word spread quickly. By the time Eryndor followed Cedric to the Academy's training yard, dozens of students had gathered, eager to witness the challenge. A duel between two first-years, one the Academy's top-ranked student, the other, the rumored genius from House Valeria.

Eryndor examined his opponent carefully.

Cedric was taller, stronger, and had at least two years of formal knight training. He moved with the confidence of someone who had fought and won before. But Cedric had no idea what he was dealing with.

Eryndor had something his opponent didn't.

The system.

[Opponent: Cedric Belmont – First-Year Academy Elite]

[Strength: 7.2] [Agility: 6.5] [Combat Skill: Advanced]

Higher stats than Sir Cedric… but not unbeatable.

A trainer stepped forward, raising a hand for silence. "This is an official Academy duel. No killing blows allowed. First to land a decisive hit wins."

Cedric rolled his shoulders, his smirk widening. "I hope you're ready, Valeria."

Eryndor simply raised his wooden sword. "We'll see."

Cedric moved first, his speed impressive for a first-year student. His blade came down in a clean, powerful arc, aimed straight at Eryndor's shoulder.

Eryndor sidestepped at the last second, narrowly avoiding the blow. Instead of retreating, he pressed forward, using his smaller frame to slip inside Cedric's guard.

Strike.

He lashed out with his sword, aiming for Cedric's exposed ribs.

But Cedric twisted at the last second, deflecting the attack with a smirk. "Not bad."

Without hesitation, he countered with a sweeping strike.

Eryndor ducked low, rolling to the side before pivoting back onto his feet. Murmurs of surprise rippled through the crowd.

He's fast.

Cedric's smirk faded slightly. His stance shifted, shoulders squaring, eyes darkening. "Alright then. No more playing around."

He charged, his sword a blur of motion.

Eryndor's system vision flared, tracking the incoming attack in slow motion. He saw the angle, the momentum, the tiny gap in Cedric's form—a slight overextension in his forward step.

There.

At the last second, Eryndor shifted, redirecting the force instead of blocking it head-on. Cedric stumbled slightly, momentarily off balance.

Now!

Eryndor feinted left, forcing Cedric to adjust, then reversed the movement and struck.

WHACK!

His wooden blade landed cleanly against Cedric's ribs.

The training yard fell silent.

The trainer raised a hand. "Match over! Eryndor Valeria wins."

Students erupted into whispers.

He won?

Cedric Belmont the top first-year just lost to a six-year-old?

Cedric stepped back, pressing a hand to his side, then exhaled sharply. For a moment, he looked frustrated, but then, to Eryndor's surprise, a smirk returned to his face.

"You're better than I thought," Cedric admitted. "We'll fight again."

Eryndor nodded, his grip on his sword steady. "Looking forward to it."

Later that evening, as Eryndor walked through the Academy halls, the duel still fresh in his mind, a voice called out behind him.

"You impressed me today, Valeria."

He turned to see Crown Prince Darius standing there, arms crossed.

The prince's expression was unreadable, but his gaze was sharp, calculating. There was no arrogance in his stance only assessment.

"I don't like losing," Darius said bluntly. "And right now, you're ahead of most students here."

Eryndor raised an eyebrow. "So what?"

Darius smirked. "So I want you on my side."

Eryndor felt a shift in the air. This wasn't just an offer. This was the first move in a game of power.

He met the prince's gaze, a knowing smile forming on his lips.

"Let's talk."