I was alone again. The silence in my hospital room was heavier than before—like a weight pressing against my chest. Hiroshi had gone back to his team, Akihiro Saiten returned to the Corps, and even Hayato had left. They all went back to where they belonged. I guess I didn’t belong anywhere yet.

  The faint hum of the hospital machines filled the air, steady and calm. My body was mostly healed now, but my mind still felt fractured. I lay down on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The night sky peeked faintly through the window blinds, cold and clear.

  “Dad… Mom…” I whispered softly, my voice trembling slightly. “If you’re watching me from wherever you are… thank you. I’ll make sure your sacrifice won’t be in vain.”

  I turned my head toward the window. The moon was round and bright tonight, wrapped in thin clouds that moved lazily across the sky.

  “I may not know much about the world,” I continued quietly, “but I know your lives were never easy.”

  The breeze outside made the curtains sway like ghosts dancing in the dark. For a brief second, I thought I saw their silhouettes in the reflection—Mom smiling gently, Dad’s rough hand resting on my shoulder—but when I blinked, they were gone.

  I closed my eyes. “If only all of this… was just a nightmare I could wake up from.”

  But it wasn’t.

  And I had to accept that.

  When morning came, sunlight slipped through the blinds, touching my face with a faint warmth. For a moment, I forgot where I was. I half-expected to wake up in our old house in the countryside, hearing my mother’s humming or the sound of birds outside. But instead, I heard the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor, the distant chatter of nurses in the hallway, and the sterile smell of medicine.

  Reality.

  I sat up slowly, stretching a little. My body was still sore, but better than before. I had nothing else to do today except wait—wait for the next step of my so-called “new life.”

  Then, as if on cue, someone knocked on my door.

  Knock, knock.

  “Perfect timing,” I muttered, standing up. I walked over and opened the door.

  In front of me stood a tall man, dressed neatly in a black suit. His sharp eyes, framed by dark hair, studied me carefully. His expression was firm and disciplined—like someone trained to keep emotion buried deep inside.

  “Kazenagi-san, correct?” His voice was deep but calm. “My name is Shun Amakaze. I am one of Akihiro Saiten-sama’s personal bodyguards. I’ve been assigned to escort you to the academy.”

  I blinked, slightly surprised. “Oh… hello. My name is Ren Kazenagi. Nice to meet you, Amakaze-san"

  He gave a curt nod. “I believe Hayato delivered your uniform yesterday. You should put it on before we depart.”

  “Got it.”

  I closed the door behind me and looked at the neatly folded uniform on the chair. It was black and white with silver linings—a sleek design that gave off an aura of pride and discipline. Still, I wasn’t used to clothes like this. The sleeves were tight, the collar stiff. I fumbled with the buttons, trying to figure out which strap went where.

  From outside, I heard Shun's voice. “Kazenagi-san, it seems you’re struggling in there. Do you require assistance?”

  I hesitated. “Yeah… I’d be grateful.”

  He opened the door slightly and stepped in. His movements were precise and respectful, not wasting a single motion. He adjusted my collar, fixed the belt, and tightened the strap near my arm.

  “There,” he said, stepping back. “It suits you.”

  “Thanks,” I said quietly. It felt strange to be helped by someone like him.

  “Shall we?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  We took the elevator down, the metal doors closing with a quiet chime. The descent was silent, just the hum of the machinery filling the space. When the doors opened, I felt the cool morning air brush against my face.

  Outside, a sleek black car waited near the entrance. Its body reflected the hospital lights like liquid glass.

  “This way,” Shun said, opening the passenger door for me.

  I stepped inside. The leather seats were smooth and smelled faintly of mint. This was my first time in a car. The last time I traveled anywhere, I was carried on someone’s back—unconscious, broken, and bleeding.

  “Kazenagi-san,” Shun said as he entered the driver’s seat, “please fasten your seatbelt.”

  “Seatbelt?” I asked, confused.

  He turned slightly, noticing my puzzled look. “Ah, I see. Like this.” He demonstrated how to pull the belt over and snap it into the lock. I mimicked his movements awkwardly until it clicked.

  “There you go.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a small, awkward smile.

  He glanced at me through the rear-view mirror. “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “I mean,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly, “are you ready to attend the academy? Saiten-sama saw potential in you. Especially in the power you possess. I believe in you as well.”

  I looked down at my hands, remembering that moment—the red energy that burst out of me when Kaito fell, when the Yomurei were torn apart. That monstrous, burning power that felt like both salvation and curse.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I decided to be ready.”

  Shun smiled faintly. “That’s the spirit.”

  He started the engine, and the car moved smoothly out of the hospital driveway.

  ---

  The city stretched endlessly before us.

  Through the car window, I watched the towering buildings pass by, glass and steel reflecting the sunlight. People walked the streets—laughing, talking, living. To them, it was just another peaceful day.

  “A happy world, isn’t it?” Shun said, noticing my gaze. “Everyone wishes for a day when the Yomurei simply vanish from existence. But that’s too good to be true.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered.

  He continued, his voice steady as he drove. “The Tenka Corps are still searching for the source—Kurayami no Enjin. The Dark Engine. But the problem is… it’s not from our world.”

  I turned to him. “Not from our world?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Our analysts believe it originates from another plane of existence. Another world—or perhaps another universe altogether. Something beyond human comprehension.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Another world? That sounded like a fairy tale, but from the tone of his voice, it was anything but fiction.

  He continued, “There’s a theory that the Yomurei are not simply monsters, but fragments—manifestations of something greater. Something that’s trying to enter this world through them.”

  The air in the car felt colder suddenly. I looked outside again.

  Shun noticed my silence but didn’t push further. “Don’t worry,” he said calmly. “The Tenka Corps and the Academy exist to train people like you—to give power meaning. What you carry inside… it’s dangerous, yes. But it can also save lives if you learn to control it.”

  His words echoed faintly in my head.

  “Power that can save lives…” I repeated under my breath.

  I wondered if such a thing was possible for me.

  After an hour of driving, the car slowed down.

  “Look,” Shun said.

  In front of us stood an enormous gate made of dark silver metal, shaped like twin blades pointing to the sky. Above it, engraved in ancient symbols, were the words TENKA ACADEMY. The gate opened with a deep mechanical hum as we approached.

  Beyond it was a vast courtyard filled with students in uniforms—black with different-colored insignias. Some carried swords, others had strange devices or weapons I couldn’t even name. The academy itself was massive, built like a fortress and temple combined.

  “We’ve arrived,” Shun said, parking the car beside the main entrance.

  I stepped out, staring at the grand building before me. It felt… unreal.

  “This is as far as I go,” he said, bowing slightly. “An instructor will meet you and guide you around the academy.”

  I nodded. “Thanks for your hard work, Amakaze-san.”

  He gave a small smile—the first genuine one I’d seen from him. “Good luck, Kazenagi-san. You’ll need it.”

  He returned to his car and drove off, leaving me standing at the base of the academy steps.

  The wind blew softly, carrying the faint sounds of laughter and clashing practice weapons.

  I took a deep breath and looked up at the towering entrance. My reflection shimmered faintly in the polished door—my eyes dull, my face blank, my heart still carrying too many scars.

  This was it.

  The beginning of my new life.

  Or perhaps… the continuation of my nightmare.

  As I stepped forward, the faint voice I heard that night whispered again, almost inaudible—

  I froze.

  For a moment, everything around me blurred—the sounds, the wind, even the air itself. The world felt distant, fading into a dull hum.

  Then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

  I shook my head and blinked, realizing I was still standing in front of the door. A few students passed by, glancing at me curiously.

  “Just my imagination,” I muttered, forcing a faint smile.

  The sound of the car faded in the distance as Shun Amakaze drove away, leaving me standing before the towering gates of Tenka Academy.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The wind brushed against my face, carrying the faint scent of sakura petals from a nearby garden. Around me, students passed through the main entrance, some laughing with their friends, others walking with silent determination. Their uniforms shimmered slightly under the morning sun, giving the courtyard a sense of order and pride.

  I adjusted my own uniform nervously. The collar still felt stiff against my neck. My heart was beating faster than it should.

  This was it — the beginning of the life Akihiro Saiten had planned for me.

  Then, I heard the door behind me open. Footsteps echoed lightly on the marble floor of the academy entrance hall. I turned around.

  A man was standing there. He looked to be in his mid-forties, tall and fit, with sharp eyes that seemed to see straight through people. His hair was black with streaks of gray near the temples, giving him a wise but commanding presence.

  “Is this the instructor that Amakaze-san mentioned?” I wondered silently.

  He stopped a few steps away from me. “May I ask if you are Ren Kazenagi?” His tone was calm but firm.

  “Umm, yes… that’s me.” I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. “Are you the instructor that’s going to show me around the academy?”

  The man gave a slight nod. “Yes. My name is Toshima Minazuki. I’ll be in charge of guiding you through your first day.”

  Toshima Minazuki.

  Around us, several students had stopped to watch. Their eyes lingered on me, whispering things I couldn’t hear. It felt strange — uncomfortable even.

  Minazuki noticed and sighed softly. “Don’t mind them,” he said. “Saiten-san only recruits individuals if he sees great potential in them. That’s why you’re attracting attention.”

  I frowned. “Potential? I’m not sure what they see in me.”

  He smiled faintly. “We were supposed to keep your recruitment quiet, but a certain student overheard our conversation and… well, rumors travel fast here.”

  I looked down. “So much for keeping a low profile…”

  He chuckled lightly. “You’ll get used to it. Every student here has a story — some darker than others.”

  I could feel their stares still burning into my back, but I ignored them as best I could. “Instructor Minazuki,” I said, “I’ll believe in myself. Saiten-san saw potential in me, and I don’t want to let him down.”

  His expression softened. “I see. That’s a good mindset to start with. Come — let’s head inside. I’ll show you around.”

  We entered the main building through a grand hall lined with stone pillars and banners displaying the academy’s crest — a silver dragon coiled around a sword. The air smelled faintly of incense and old books.

  “This,” Minazuki said as we walked, “is the Hall of Origin. It’s where new students are welcomed, and where we hold annual ceremonies. The founder of Tenka Academy once fought side by side with the first generation of Yomu Executioner. His ideals built this place.”

  I followed him silently, taking in the high ceilings and the intricate stained-glass windows that cast patterns of light across the marble floor.

  We moved through a corridor where the sound of training echoed faintly. The walls were lined with portraits of legendary Yomu Executioner, each framed in gold.

  “These are the protectors of humanity,” Minazuki continued. “Every one of them started as a student here — lost, broken, or alone. Just like you.”

  His words hit harder than I expected.

  “Are all the students here like me?” I asked quietly. “Homeless… or with no family left?”

  He nodded slowly. “Most of them, yes. Many were orphaned during Yomurei attacks. Some lost everything — homes, families, even their own humanity for a time. Others enrolled simply because they want to serve the country. But every one of them carries a reason — something that drives them forward.”

  I stared at the floor. “Then I guess I’m not so different after all.”

  Minazuki smiled faintly. “You’ll find more in common with them than you think.”

  He guided me out of the corridor into a large open area filled with students sparring. The training grounds were surrounded by tall walls and weapon racks. Sparks flew as blades clashed. The scent of sweat and burning energy filled the air.

  “Combat training happens here every morning,” Minazuki explained. “Tenka Academy doesn’t just teach theory. You’ll be fighting real simulations — Yomurei constructs generated from purified Shin’en. They can’t kill, but they hurt enough to remind you that death is always one mistake away.”

  I swallowed hard, watching as a student was knocked down, then quickly got up again, determination in his eyes.

  “Every battle here is more than physical,” he continued. “It’s about willpower. Resolve. The strength to stand even when everything inside you says to fall.”

  We walked onward. The next area was quieter — a beautiful garden surrounded by stone walkways. Small orbs of light floated above the flowers like fireflies.

  “This is the Shin’en Garden,” Minazuki said, stopping to let me look around. “It’s a place for meditation and energy control. Students use it to stabilize their Shin’en flow. Many Yomu Executioner have lost their lives because they failed to control their own energy in battle.”

  “It’s… peaceful,” I said softly.

  “It needs to be,” he replied. “Even warriors need moments of calm.”

  We passed by the cafeteria next — a wide hall filled with chatter and laughter. The smell of warm food filled the air. Students lined up for breakfast, some already in their training gear. It felt… normal. Almost like a regular school.

  I couldn’t help but smile a little. “It’s strange,” I said. “Even after everything… people here can still laugh.”

  Minazuki looked at me. “That’s what makes us human. We learn to smile again, no matter how broken we are.”

  Finally, we arrived at a classroom on the third floor. The plaque beside the door read: Class 1-B.

  Minazuki stopped and turned to me. “From now on, this will be your class, Kazenagi-san. You’ll be spending the next six years here — studying, training, and growing stronger.”

  “Six years?!” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “That’s… long!”

  He laughed — a warm, genuine sound. “That’s how a school works. But don’t worry — time passes faster when you have people to share it with.”

  He opened the door and motioned me to enter.

  Inside, the classroom buzzed with life. Students chatted in small groups, others leaned back in their chairs, some reading or meditating. The walls were covered with maps and diagrams showing Shin’en flows, weapon structures, and Yomurei anatomy.

  As I walked in, every head turned toward me.

  “Is that him?” someone whispered.

  “The one Saiten recruited personally?”

  “I heard he fought Yomurei and survived.”

  Their stares felt like needles. I tried to ignore them and kept my face calm, though my hands were slightly trembling.

  Minazuki cleared his throat. “Everyone, this is Ren Kazenagi. Starting today, he’ll be part of Class 1-B. Treat him kindly.”

  The class murmured among themselves, some nodding in acknowledgment, others watching curiously.

  Minazuki guided me toward an empty seat near the window. “This will be your seat. From here, you can see the training grounds — and the sunrise every morning.”

  I nodded and sat down. The wooden chair creaked faintly beneath me.

  From here, I could see everything — the courtyard, the sky, and the faint outline of the Shin’en Garden below.

  Around me, the class settled down. Some were quiet and observant, others loud and playful. There was a group that clearly acted like the “leaders” — confident, competitive, almost intimidating.

  “This academy…” I thought, glancing around, “is full of unusual people.”

  Minazuki stood at the front of the class. “Welcome to Tenka Academy, Kazenagi-san. I hope these six years shape you into someone who can protect what’s precious to you.”

  His words lingered.

  Six years.

  Six years of training, learning, and surviving.

  I didn’t know what awaited me here.

  But deep down… a faint spark of determination began to rise.

  For the first time in a long while, I felt like maybe — just maybe — I had a place in this world.

  Four years had passed since I first stepped into Tenka Academy — four years since that day when everything changed.

  I figured out what is my shin'en but I don't know what it do. It's called "Crimson Shin'en" but even experts said that this shin'en is really rare or does not exist so they don't have any idea what it does.

  But I will figure out whether if this shin'en is connected to the mysterious creature inside me and find out on how to control this power.

  When I arrived, I was just another transfer student — quiet, distant, carrying a burden no one could see. But time has a way of dulling pain, even if it doesn’t erase it.

  Now, at sixteen, I could finally say that life inside the academy wasn’t so unbearable.

  I had found people I could trust. People who made this place feel less like a battlefield and more like a home.

  The academy was an enormous fortress of Shin’en and discipline. Every hallway shimmered faintly with spiritual energy, the walls reinforced by ancient seals that kept the Yomurei away. Students in black and gray uniforms filled the courtyards, each one dreaming of someday joining the Tenka Corps — the elite warriors who protected humanity.

  The daily routine never changed:

  Morning lectures, combat drills, Shin’en practice, meditation sessions, and written exams that could drain the life out of even the toughest fighter. But despite the exhaustion, there was something addicting about it — the feeling of growth.

  Everyone measured that growth through one thing: the ReiGauge.

  It was a small wrist device — silver and sleek, with faint blue veins of light running along its surface. When worn, it measured your Shin’en and displayed your exact number.

  The ranks were divided by fifty points each:

  0–50: Rin-rank, beginners.

  51–100: Ken-rank, intermediate trainees.

  101–150: Shi-rank, advanced users.

  151–200: Jo-Rank, the elite level.

  201–250: Ha-rank, veterans of the Corps.

  251–300: Sen-rank, combat specialists.

  301–350: Mei-rank, nearing mastery.

  351–400: Shinrei-rank, the realm of legends.

  But the one who stood above them all was the man everyone knew by name — Akihiro Saiten.

  His Shin’en was recorded at 1,000. No one had ever come close. That number was so far beyond human limits it felt like a myth. They called him The Strongest Yomu Executioner, the one who bore the title “The Man Who Possesses the Most Shin’en.”

  Even after many years, his name still echoed through every classroom and training ground.

  If there was one thing that made life at Tenka Academy bearable, it was the people I met along the way.

  The first was Haruto — messy brown hair, always fidgeting, and perpetually late. He was the kind of guy who could trip during meditation and still make everyone laugh about it. No matter how serious the situation was, Haruto always found a way to lighten the mood.

  Then there was Mina — calm, composed, but sharp-tongued. She had this habit of teasing people at the worst times, but her insight and quick thinking during battles made her one of the smartest Ken-rank students.

  And finally, Aiko — the kindest person I’d ever met. She had a gentle smile that could disarm anyone, but when someone pushed her too far… she had a punch that could send even an instructor flying.

  The four of us balanced each other perfectly. Haruto’s humor, Mina’s calmness, Aiko’s compassion — and me, the one who often stayed quiet but somehow became the glue that held them together.

  Ken-Rank Life

  All four of us were now Ken-rank. It wasn’t much compared to the upperclassmen, but to us, it felt like an accomplishment.

  The ReiGauge on my wrist showed 97, just a few points away from Shi-rank.

  Haruto often complained that his readings never went past 130. Mina’s was 91, while Aiko’s was 95. We weren’t the strongest, but we were consistent — and in Tenka Academy, that mattered more than talent.

  Our days were filled with sparring matches and tactical missions inside simulation rooms. We learned to amplify Shin’en through breathing, to compress it into strikes, and to defend against mental intrusion.

  But it wasn’t all serious. There were moments of laughter, friendly rivalries, and shared exhaustion.

  Sometimes, at night, we’d sneak out to the old training field behind the dorms and just sit under the stars.

  “Do you ever think about what’s out there?” Haruto asked once, lying on the grass.

  “What do you mean?” Mina said.

  “Like… beyond the Yomurei, beyond the cities. What if there’s something else? Something we don’t know about.”

  Aiko smiled faintly. “You mean like peace?”

  He laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

  I didn’t say anything, but deep down, I hoped for that too.

  It was lunchtime when everything felt… normal. The smell of curry rice filled the air, and the noise of hundreds of students talking made the cafeteria feel alive.

  I was late, as usual.

  “Yo, Ren! Over here!”

  Haruto’s voice cut through the crowd. I turned and saw him waving frantically, almost knocking over someone’s tray. Mina sighed beside him, while Aiko chuckled softly.

  “Took you long enough!” Mina teased as I sat down.

  “You guys really can’t eat without me, huh?” I said, smirking.

  Aiko slid a plate toward me. “Eat before training. You skipped breakfast again.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I grabbed my spoon. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Haruto burst out laughing, but it came out as a nervous snort. “Ha—hah! You’re dead if she hears you call her that.”

  “Hmm?” Aiko tilted her head, smiling sweetly.

  Haruto froze. “N-Nothing! I mean, Ren said—uh—”

  Smack!

  Aiko’s gentle smile never wavered as her fist connected with Haruto’s head. “Language.”

  The entire table laughed. Even Mina couldn’t hide her grin.

  We talked about random things — training drills, exams, and rumors that floated around campus. But then Haruto leaned forward, lowering his voice.

  “Hey, did you guys hear? There’s been talk about a high-ranking Yomurei spotted near Osaka.”

  Mina frowned. “That’s close.”

  “Yeah,” Aiko added, her tone soft but worried. “If it’s true, that could mean the barriers there are weakening again.”

  Haruto shuddered. “Man… imagine something like that getting near the academy.”

  “It won’t,” I said simply. “Not while the Corps is still standing.”

  They looked at me for a moment, then nodded. Even if I didn’t say much, I knew they trusted me.

  But Haruto still couldn’t sit still. He kept tapping his fork against the table, his knee bouncing like he was about to explode.

  “T-Today’s the day,” he stammered. “The instructors are announcing our team assignments. What if I end up with total strangers?! Too bad we're not the same class as Ren this year."

  Mina rolled her eyes. “Relax, you always overthink.”

  “Maybe you’ll end up with us,” Aiko said, smiling as she patted his shoulder.

  “I hope so…” he muttered.

  I leaned back in my chair. “If you’re not with us, I’m sure you’ll find a way to annoy whoever is.”

  “Gee, thanks for the confidence.”

  We laughed again — but beneath that laughter, I could sense the same nervous excitement we all felt. The team assignments would define our futures here. Who we trained with. Who we fought beside. Who we might lose.

  The Announcement

  When the lunch bell rang, an announcement echoed through the speakers:

  “All second-class trainees, report to the Shinsei Hall for team assignments.”

  The cafeteria erupted in chatter. Trays clattered, and students rushed to the exits.

  Haruto jumped to his feet. “This is it!”

  Mina stood gracefully, adjusting her uniform. “Try not to faint this time.”

  Aiko giggled. “Let’s go.”

  We walked through the academy courtyard, sunlight filtering through the glass ceilings. Shinsei Hall stood at the center — a vast, circular chamber lined with glowing emblems of the Tenka Corps. Floating orbs of Shin’en illuminated the room, making the air hum faintly.

  Rows of students gathered, whispering nervously.

  Instructor Minazuki stood on the stage, his coat flowing behind him like a shadow. His expression was stern but proud.

  “Four years ago, you entered this academy as mere children,” he began. “Now, you stand here as young warriors ready to serve the Tenka Corps.”

  His voice echoed across the hall.

  “From this day onward, you will be divided into teams — groups that will serve as your foundation for all missions, training, and examinations. These bonds will define who you become. Treat them as family.”

  I wonder who will be my teammates. Each group has only 3 members. The chances that we will be in the same group are low. But still, even if I'm not in the same group as them, I want my teammates to be nice and easy to approach.