Calien

The students watched closely while holding their breath. No one said anything, but the way their shoulders tensed said it all already.

They were all thinking the same thing—this was the real test.

Nolan had broken their formation with just a flick of his finger. It looked cool, but it wasn't enough to impress them. Any high level Mana User can do that. 

And that was just Conjuration. So it doesn't matter. 

They were here to train as Knights.

Words were cheap, and most teachers talked big but didn't deliver.

Even the so-called "great" instructors at the academy didn't impress them enough.

Because they had one clear standard—Calien.

The best of them when it came to knighthood.

He was born to be a Knight.

Not only was he already a strong Third Stage Mana Knight, but he also came from a famous Knight Family in Silver Blade City.

His family had a long history of warriors, trained in battle and strategy, known for their strength.

He could've been even stronger if his family hadn't made him study Conjuration too—because of his rare dual affinity. Even so, his knight skills were still top-notch.

The others often whispered about it.

He was better than all of them without even trying.

So why was someone like him at Silver Blade Academy with a bunch of misfits?

Because Calien wanted something simple: to spend time with his friends.

To enjoy himself a bit before the next chapter of his life.

When this was over, he'd go back to his family estate, train under his strict grandfather, and get ready for the Murlacks Conjuration Institute.

To the rest of the class, he was like their unofficial leader.

If anyone could show Nolan's Arcane Special Realm wasn't as amazing as he claimed, it was Calien.

Nolan noticed the small changes in how they stood. They were unsure but hopeful.

He clapped once, the sound sharp in the magical mist. "You better be ready to wet yourselves," he said, grinning. "Knight training? This won't be like anything you've seen."

He held his head high. "Because I'm one of a kind."

The students looked at each other. Some raised their eyebrows, but a few smiled.

Inside, Nolan smirked.

Knight family, huh? He had already seen Calien's info.

The moment he saw the Silverhart crest, he figured this kid would act like he knew everything about being a knight. Always getting excited when the word 'knight' was mentioned. Good. That pride will make it more fun when I crush him.

Nolan tilted his head and looked straight at Calien. "Go."

Calien chuckled and walked forward. "Guess I'm your first knightly challenge."

He looked cheerful and friendly. But inside, he was calm and sharp.

Unique training? I doubt it. I've trained under sword saints and battle experts. You're probably just another loudmouth trying to look cool.

Still, Calien smiled like he was eager to learn.

Then Nolan said, "Go back to your seat and wait."

Surprised, Calien still obeyed and sat down.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed in front of him, and his eyes changed. It was like he wasn't in the room anymore.

Nolan spoke without pause. "Eyes forward," he told the rest.

Floating screens appeared in front of each student—wide glowing panels filled with shining runes.

The students gasped at what they saw on the screens.

"This is Calien's view," Nolan said. "You're seeing everything he sees. Think of it like a magic mirror tied to his soul."

The screens lit up.

It started with a movie-like scene—things they'd never imagined.

Tall buildings made of gray metal, glowing lights, and smooth roads made of black stone. But what shocked them most were the strange carriages—metal beasts racing faster than any flying falcon.

"What are those?" one student asked.

"Cars," Nolan said, leaning on his screen. "Metal carriages. They run on... let's say fake magic."

The term made sense to them. Some had heard of enchanted wagons pulled by magical beasts. But this was something else.

"Why do they look so blocky?" another asked.

"Because this world is from a time long gone."

They leaned in as the next scene began.

A scientist, surrounded by glowing glass and liquids, spoke about a miracle medicine.

A single cure that could erase all sickness—cancer, mana damage, even spirit rot.

The world cheered. But then, everything started to fall apart.

The scene changed.

A man got bitten by a wild dog.

A test in a lab failed.

Images showed his brain changing, his veins turning black. Then he went crazy—biting, attacking, killing.

The curse spread fast, like wildfire.

Cities burned.

People screamed.

Blood ran down the streets like rivers.

"What… what kind of curse is that?" one student whispered.

Nolan crossed his arms. "A strong one. Pure rage. They lose control. All they want is to kill and eat. One bite is all it takes to spread it."

The students knew what curses were—but not like this. There were no mages, no priests, no holy circles. Just fear and chaos.

It was hard to explain using magic terms, but Nolan had other ways.

"What kind of world is this?" another student asked.

"One with no mana," Nolan replied, his voice more serious now. "A world where humans survived using tools and determination. No powers. No gifts. Just grit."

Then Calien's voice cut through.

"W-What's going on?"

The screen showed him standing alone on a ruined street. He looked confused and cautious. He stared at his hands, closed them into fists, and tried to use mana. Nothing happened.

"Why can't I feel my strength?" he shouted.

Nolan tapped his screen and spoke calmly. "You're in human mode."

"What?"

"For this training, you're just a normal human. No mana, no magic circuits, no knight boosts. Just your basic skills."

"Why?"

"Because before you had power, you were human. That can be taken away anytime. Real strength comes from knowing how weak you are—and growing from it."

Silence followed.

Then a low growl came from the shadows.

The students leaned closer to their screens.

A figure came into view from behind a wrecked bus—bent over, with pale gray skin and yellow eyes. Its mouth hung open, teeth broken and sharp. It wore torn, bloody clothes.

The infected.

It saw Calien.

It walked toward him, slow but steady.

In this version of the game '27 Seconds Later,' the infected were slow. Not like the fast ones in '27 Days Later,' the game Nolan played before.

That should make it easier—at least in theory.

Even though he was shocked, Calien moved into a defensive stance. Even without mana, his body remembered the training. Years of drills from his family kicked in.

He threw the knife in his hands, believing it wouldn't work. And then he grabbed a rusty pipe nearby and swung it hard as the infected attacked.

The pipe hit—hard, right in the ribs.

The infected stumbled but didn't fall.

"What…?" Calien said, stepping back.

It growled and rushed at him again. This time, he drove the pipe into its chest.

It screamed.

Then bit into his shoulder.

Blood splattered.

The screen blinked.

A loud chime rang out.

[GAME OVER]

Calien vanished from the screen. A second later, he was back in his seat—no blood, no bite—but breathing hard, his eyes wide.

The other students turned to stare at him.

He looked at his hands, shocked.

Nolan smiled quietly, watching their reactions—some afraid, some amazed.

"Ohohoho would you look at that," he said. "So early?"