Gates of Power

The sun hung low in the sky, bleeding orange light across the treetops as Ray emerged from the Blackmist Wilds. Leaves rustled beneath his boots, still damp with the sweat of battle and the blood of beasts. His coat bore slashes across the shoulder, and his gauntlet was dented from a Stonehide Lynar's strike. Yet his pace was calm, steady.

Then he saw it—and even he had to pause.

Beyond the final ridge, across a stretch of clean-cut stone steps, stood the Royal Spirit Academy.

It was unlike anything Ray had seen in either life.

A vast circular fortress of brass and crystal, its outer walls shimmered under the setting sun. Floating walkways spun slowly above, suspended by invisible threads of spirit energy. Towering spires lined the perimeter, humming with the same soft glow as spirit cores. The dome at its center—a structure shaped like a lantern turned upside down—pulsed with pale blue light: the Spirit Nexus. That was the heart of it all, the source of the Academy's defenses, infrastructure, and ancient magic.

A long, winding staircase cut through the cliff face, leading toward the open Gate of Entry—a brass arch flanked by two obsidian statues of kneeling knights.

Leo let out a low whistle. "Not bad for a school."

Sylvia smiled faintly. "It's beautiful. But cold, in a way."

Ray didn't respond. His silver eyes scanned every detail.

This is where it begins.

The Gatekeeper stood at the top of the stairs.

She was a tall woman with short silver hair, dressed in a deep navy coat bearing the crest of the Academy—a crown surrounded by six stars. Her eyes were cold, calculating, and glowed faintly with magical runes.

Behind her stood other instructors, mostly Spirit Knights and Mages with ranks embroidered on their sleeves. Their presence was imposing but calm. Professional.

As Ray and the others reached the gate, the woman raised a hand.

"All applicants stop here."

The group halted.

"You have crossed the Blackmist Wilds. That alone proves your physical and mental readiness. However—" she paused, her voice ringing clearly across the courtyard, "—this institution accepts only those with C-grade potential or above. No exceptions. If your official Spirit Aptitude is below that threshold, you will not be allowed entry beyond this point."

There was a hush among the group.

Ray glanced around. A few students stiffened. A boy in a violet robe clenched his fists.

Sylvia lowered her voice. "There are always a few who lie about their evaluations… hoping to fake it until the gate tests them."

Leo grunted. "Fools."

Ray said nothing.

The instructor continued. "If you have doubts, step aside now. This will be your last chance to turn back without consequence."

No one moved.

With a small nod, the woman gestured toward a raised platform. One by one, the students were called forward to verify their Spirit Aptitude through a short ritual using spirit crystals.

Ray watched silently as students placed their palms on the stone.

Names and grades appeared in blue script above the platform.

> "Sylvia Velorne – A-grade Affinity – Holy, Light,...."

"Leo Calden – B-grade Affinity – Fire,..."

When it was Ray's turn, he stepped forward without hesitation.

His hand touched the crystal.

The air shimmered.

> "Ray Illustrious – A-grade Affinity – Wind, Thunder, Frost, Void"

A soft murmur spread through the instructors.

"A quad-affinity?"

"Void affinity as well?"

The silver-haired gatekeeper narrowed her eyes slightly but said nothing.

Ray stepped down and returned to the line.

Once the tests ended, the gatekeeper stepped forward again.

"Listen well. The Royal Spirit Academy is not a playground for nobles, nor a charity for commoners. Titles, money, and bloodlines will only carry you so far."

She walked slowly along the line of students.

"Here, only power, talent, and discipline determine status."

Ray watched her every step.

"You will be ranked. You will be observed. And most importantly—you will be tested constantly."

She turned back to face the gate.

"There are three divisions in this academy: Spirit Knights, Spirit Mages, and Scholars. Each of you will be placed according to your chosen path."

Ray glanced at Leo, who smirked. "Knight Division," he whispered. "Let's see how long you can keep up."

Sylvia, standing beside him, turned her gaze toward Ray. "You chose Knight too?"

Ray gave a curt nod. "Sword and body. It suits me better than chants and scrolls."

She gave a small smile. "I thought you might. I'll be in the Holy Spirit Division—Mage Wing. We'll probably cross paths."

"Likely," Ray said, voice even. "Just not on the battlefield."

"Don't be so sure," she replied lightly.

The gates creaked open, gears and magic grinding in unison.

A blast of cool, clean air rolled out from inside. Unlike the Wilds behind them, the Academy grounds were clean and ordered—elegant cobblestone paths led toward the main building, while manicured trees glowed faintly with spirit energy.

As Ray passed through the gate, he noticed the guards shift ever so slightly. Their eyes lingered on him longer than others. One even touched the hilt of his weapon.

He didn't miss it.

They're wary of me already.

---

The Courtyard of Stars

Inside the gates was a massive circular courtyard lined with fountains and polished stone benches. Engraved on the ground were the names of legendary graduates.

> Sir Velan the Stormblade – First Emperor's Guardian

Lysse Calden – Founder of Spirit-Tech Engineering

Nareen of the Sixfold Flame – First woman to achieve S-grade magic

Ray's footsteps slowed.

He saw his past self here once. A ghost, scorned and forgotten. A boy who'd failed and been discarded.

Now, he returned a different person.

"I'll put my name here," he murmured. "Eventually."

Later, they were assigned dormitories. Ray was placed in the First Year Knight Wing, a steampunk-styled manor built along a gentle incline. Pipes hissed and gears clicked rhythmically as servants maintained the enchanted infrastructure.

But not all students were nobles.

Across the main field, another dormitory stood—smaller, simpler, but no less fortified.

Unlike the nobles, commoners had to earn their place through a competitive national exam and interviews. Most were C or B-grade, though a rare few A-grades had come through that path.

Ray saw them in the distance—students in plain robes, walking in tight groups, wary eyes scanning everything.

In his first life, he would've ignored them.

In this one, he knew better.

Allies could be born anywhere. And enemies wore many faces.

Ray's room was spartan—one bed, a desk, a small trunk for belongings, and a window that overlooked the training field. He unpacked quickly, hung his coat on the wall, and sat by the window.

Torches lit the walkways below. Students moved like flickering shadows.

A knock came at his door.

He opened it.

George stood there, dressed in black, blending with the shadows as always. Despite the journey, there wasn't a single crease on his uniform.

"Settled in, Your Highness?" he asked, a faint smile playing at his lips.

"I told you not to call me that here," Ray replied quietly.

"Old habits," George said with a short bow. "Your schedule begins at dawn. Instructor Heron is your assigned mentor. A strict man. Former Spirit Knight Commander. Known to break bones during training… sometimes intentionally."

"Sounds ideal," Ray said. "I'll need that."

George studied him for a moment, then stepped inside and placed a small wrapped bundle on the desk.

"Lunch. I don't trust the kitchen yet. Made it myself."

Ray glanced at the cloth bundle. "Still carrying that pan around?"

"It's saved your life more times than my blades," George said, smirking.

There was a short pause.

George's voice softened. "You've made a storm with that awakening, Ray. Nobles are whispering. Instructors are watching. And not everyone here wants a fallen prince to rise."

Ray stared out the window again. "Let them come. I'm not here to make friends."

"No," George said calmly, "you're here to make history."

He turned to leave but paused at the door.

"Rest well. Tomorrow, the real battle begins."

Ray didn't respond. But as the door clicked shut, he allowed a brief smile to flicker on his lips.

This time, he wasn't alone.

And this time, he was ready.