**Prologue**
The battlefield was silent, save for the distant roars of the monstrous horde. Blood soaked the broken earth, bodies scattered across the ruined plains. The banners of Aincedra lay in tatters, fluttering weakly against the wind.
Leon Akros stood alone. His body bore the scars of countless battles, his once-pristine armor cracked and covered in ash. His breath was steady, but he knew the truth—this was the end. The last remnants of his forces had fallen. The monsters, creatures beyond mortal comprehension, crawled from the dimensional rift, endless, unyielding.
He exhaled, tightening his grip on his sword. *Was this truly all I could do?*
Powerful as he was, he was still just one man. One man who had defied fate, risen from nothing, conquered nations, and stood at the pinnacle of the world—only to fail.
The sky cracked. The world trembled. And Leon, the Godfather of House Akros, the warlord feared across the continent, fell.
Darkness consumed him.
---
**Chapter 1: The Fallen Noble's First Step**
A cold breeze swept through the academy courtyard, rustling the banners of noble houses. Dozens of young men and women stood in line, waiting for their turn in the entrance examination. Some shifted anxiously, others sneered with arrogant confidence.
Leon Akros adjusted his coat and stepped forward. He heard the whispers.
*"Is that really him?"*\
*"House Akros should have disappeared long ago."*\
*"A fallen noble, daring to enter the academy? Laughable."*
He ignored them. Their words meant nothing. Let them talk. Soon, they would have no choice but to acknowledge him.
A voice rang out. "Next candidate, step forward!"
Leon strode onto the testing ground. Before him stood a panel of instructors, their gazes sharp and calculating. An elderly mage gestured to a floating crystal. "Leon Akros, place your hand on the assessment stone."
Leon did as instructed. The moment his fingers met the surface, the crystal trembled violently. A low hum filled the air. Then—cracks formed, and with a final pulse, the crystal shattered into shards of light.
Gasps filled the courtyard. One instructor muttered, "Impossible…"
Leon withdrew his hand, his expression unchanged. "Is that sufficient?"
The lead examiner cleared his throat. "Proceed to the combat trial."
Leon stepped onto the dueling platform, where a senior student stood waiting—a noble heir, his smirk dripping with arrogance. "A disgrace like you should know his place."
Leon didn't reply. Words were meaningless. Actions spoke louder.
The signal was given. The duel began.
The noble launched forward, a fire spell forming at his fingertips. Fast—but not fast enough.
Leon exhaled. *Too slow.*
A gust of wind exploded beneath his feet, propelling him forward like a phantom. His fist met his opponent's gut before the spell could even be cast. The impact sent the noble flying, his body skidding across the platform.
Silence.
Leon straightened, his expression calm. "You're strong, but you rely too much on casting speed. In a real battle, that hesitation could be fatal."
The old judge stroked his beard, watching him with keen eyes. *Not just raw strength… his application of magic is already as good as a second-year student.*
The lead instructor nodded. "Welcome to the academy, Leon Akros."
Just as the murmurs of the crowd began to fade, Leon's vision blurred. A sharp pain surged through his body. His knees buckled.
Then—darkness.
Gasps filled the air as he collapsed to the ground. The instructors rushed to his side, confusion etched on their faces. Academy doctors examined him, but no injury, no spell backlash, nothing explained his sudden collapse.
All they could do was wait for him to wake up.