In a small room, Arthur was laying on a bed, looking out the small window on the other side of the wall.
This was his room, as all the apprentices on the ship each got their own room, which was odd, as the ship did not seem to be big enough to house all of them, but the endless corridor that appeared when they entered the lower levels changed their minds.
"So this ship is a meeting point" Arthur muttered, remembering the numerous apprentices that kept appearing, belonging to different groups, most likely from all around the continent. "So it's a mass recruitment? Are we losing the war?" Arthur muttered to himself, then shook his head, "I'm not at a level where I have to worry about this for now"
Bang!
Arthur heard a noise outside, but he ignored it. "They're at it again!"
For the past few days they had been on the ship, the apprentices, left alone by their escort wizards, would start fights with each other, and there were even some raping, and muggings. It was very disturbing for Arthur, as the reality of this world was hitting him harder each day.
"They would assault the peasants, mostly girls, as they couldn't defend themselves" Arthur muttered, "Some apprentices were peasants, some came from gangs and normal families from the cities all around the continent, although there were many nobles as well, but they kept to themselves, grouping up and looking down on the others" He kept organizing his thoughts. "I tried to stay out of the way, receiving my food in my own room, but I keep seeing some of them creeping around the area in front of my door… Am I being targeted?" Arthur thought with a chuckle. He knew the ones that were most likely pushing for it, but him being armed and most likely, to their knowledge, at most a third realm knight apprentice, deterred them from acting against him.. for now.
The journey by ship would take around a week from what the wizards said before disappearing to the upper levels. Arthur sighed, bored out of his mind.
"I miss my phone!" He muttered.
***
Knock knock!
Arthur stirred from his slumber, the abrupt knock on his door dragging him from the depths of sleep. He rubbed his eyes, disoriented, then glanced toward the small window. The dimming light suggested evening was approaching. Is it dinner time? he mused, pushing himself off the bed and moving toward the door.
He hadn't even touched the handle when—
BANG!
The door flew open with a violent force, slamming into his face. Pain exploded across his nose, and blood trickled down. "FUCK!" he cursed, stumbling back, momentarily dazed.
Shaking off the shock, Arthur darted to his desk where his newly acquired sword lay. He hadn't trained much with it yet, but the weight felt right in his hands. I can't kill, but I can probably cut an arm or two, he thought, steeling himself.
Without warning, a group of young men surged into the room. They wore standard apprentice gear—leather armor, worn but functional—and brandished swords. The leader, a cocky ruffian barely out of adolescence, took point. His stance and weapon handling spoke of some skill, and as he rushed in Arthur knew he was nothing beyond apprentice level.
They attacked without a word, swinging together in a chaotic rush.
Arthur's heart pounded. His inexperience showed immediately, his reactions were powerful and reactive rather than fluid and effective. He barely dodged the first wild slash, stumbling and forced to parry a second attacker's blow seconds later. He couldn't strike back quickly—another assailant pressed close, forcing him into a defensive stance.
But Arthur's physique was no joke. Though clumsy, his every parry and block bore the unmistakable power of someone far beyond apprentice level. Each swing he managed sent shockwaves through armor and bone—wrists snapped, arms fractured, and one unlucky attacker went down clutching a broken forearm.
The leader pressed forward, swinging recklessly. Arthur blocked the strike, then lunged with a raw, powerful slash that caught the leader square in the chest. Dark blood blossomed on the leather armor. The room fell into tense silence.
The leader's eyes widened, terror flashing in them. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "they didn't say he was an official knight!"
With shaking hands, the leader fumbled an odd-looking accessory from his pocket—a small, intricately carved stone. He raised it, and a mysterious force pulsed outward like a shockwave, violently pushing Arthur backward. Arthur crashed into the wall, the impact stealing the breath from his lungs.
The stone shattered after that, turning into dust. The group froze, glancing nervously at their leader.
"Retreat!" the leader barked, voice harsh and urgent.
Without hesitation, the group fled the room, leaving Arthur seething with rage and confusion.
Groaning, Arthur pushed himself from the floor, aching and bruised but eyes burning with fury. His nose throbbed, and his pride was wounded deeper than any physical blow.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered through clenched teeth. "And who the hell do they think they are?"
***
"You fucked us over!!" Gon's voice cracked like a whip as he spat the words at the nobles standing before him. But the arrogant bastards didn't flinch. Not a flicker of emotion on their smug faces.
A tall, skinny kid stepped forward from the group. Behind him stood Finn, Jack, the rest of their crew — and a few random nobles, all watching.
Jacob. That was his name. Calm, bored, like he couldn't care less.
"We gave you the name and description," Jacob said flatly. "You're the one who failed. Not our problem."
"Failed?" Gon growled, veins bulging. "You sent me after an official knight — and I'm the one who fucked up?"
Gon was no joke. Former gang leader's son turned petty warlord. Offered two spirit stones by these nobles to take care of some apprentice named Arthur. The description had been vague — a name, a rough look. He'd accepted gladly. Now he was half crippled, and half his men could barely stand.
"I used the damn Rune too. You realize how hard it was to get that thing?" Gon spat, pain and rage thick in his voice.
"Not our problem," Jacob shrugged like it was nothing. "Since you're injured, keep the spirit stones as compensation." He nodded sharply, turning away with his group.
As Jacob and the nobles headed for the next room, Jacob glanced back, eyes narrowing on Finn and the others. The bored mask slipped.
"Did you just get us into a fight with an official fucking knight?" His voice was low, sharp, brutal. "Are you idiots that stupid?"
Finn swallowed hard, panic flickering in his eyes. "An official knight? He's just a peasant. Gon's gotta be lying."
Jacob snorted. "Most knights come from nothing. Being a peasant doesn't mean shit. If he paid the exam fee, he must have had a teacher or a mentor"
He stepped closer to Finn, cold as ice. "And Gon? He's a rat, but his word's good. The injuries looked bad. So yeah. You made enemies with an official knight."
Without warning, Jacob's fist slammed into Finn's face. The crack echoed as Finn hit the ground, dazed and bleeding.
"What—? I didn't know! I thought he was just some second realm apprentice knight, I swear!"
Jacob exhaled, exasperated. "You thought? How many spirit stones can you four idiots scrape together?"
The group hesitated. Finn answered after a pause. "Sixteen. But what good does that do?"
Jacob's eyes blazed. "What good? To pay that knight off and have you four beg for mercy, you morons!"
Finn scowled, standing unsteadily. "Why should we? He's just a peasant, and we have the numbers. We've got runes too."
Jacob snapped. The fighter within took over. His movements were ruthless, precise — a storm of fists pounding Finn mercilessly. Blood sprayed. Finn barely clung to consciousness.
The others stood frozen, watching the fury unleashed. Jacob had lost control twice before—once when a girl he forced himself on took her own life.
Straightening his jacket, Jacob glared at them. "Listen up, you idiots. My father paid our escort wizards a fortune for this intel, so you owe me."
He leaned in, voice low but cutting. "The Academy's entrance fee? That's just the start. There's a brutal entrance exam — a test of survival and strength. You get dropped into a forest crawling with beasts, monsters, and other recruits who'll try to kill you. No rules. Every token you take from a rival counts as points. Top scorers get rewarded."
Jacob's gaze locked on Finn and the others. "Now, tell me, do you really want to have an official knight as your enemy in that place? Especially when you can't kill him here?"
A heavy silence settled.
"Fuck," someone finally cursed, voices trembling.