After yet another shower to clean off the sweat, and several minutes swearing about the apparent lack of boilers at the academy, Allen dressed himself in the provided uniform before heading to breakfast. A side effect of ascension, at least if you did it properly, was that it drained a significant amount of your stored mana. That meant that if nothing changed Allen would be relying on traditional energy to get through the day. That wasn’t a good thing when he was coming off two days in a row with hardly any sleep. His cultivation technique was powerful enough for even an adept level cultivator, so he would have no problems refilling his mana again. But that would take time he didn’t have before they were told to report to the training room. Helping himself to a bowl of rather bland looking oatmeal, Allen tucked in, enjoying even the sensation as the small amount of mana infused in the meal worked its way through his meridians and into his channels. The sensation was sort of like a shot of sugar when you were tired. Not good in the long term, but enough to hold you over for a while. Given it was his first proper day at the academy, Allen felt confident that as long as he could draw in mana, he would have time to properly cultivate mana properly at some point. Finishing off the plain breakfast, he returned the bowl to the kitchen area and made his way to his unused bed, activating his ring. The gathering array his father had enchanted into it immediately started pulling in mana towards him, all of which he drew in through his meridians and into his channels. Finally a student called out that it was time for them to move to training, so Allen twisted the ring again to stop the enchantment, and walked into the training room. Maybe two hundred students, all in banana yellow, filled the room. Many were on the treadmills or weight lifting, while others were in groups working through what looked like martial arts. Right at the front were about a hundred faces he recognised from the previous night, all stood around facing the man he met on first arriving, Kyle. During their previous meeting Allen had thought the man appeared fairly approachable, but that was gone now. Instead he stood scowling like a small child told it was time to leave the playground. Gradually more and more of the older students filed in behind them before the entire class of yellows was standing in a group. Still Kyle didn’t speak, just looking at the door way and tapping his foot. Finally, about five minutes after the last of the yellows had arrived, five people walked through into the training room. Four of them were wearing the green variant of his own uniform. The dark green shade, paired with the way they walked and carried themselves, gave a distinctive military feel. The black clad man at the front was the one who really caught Allen’s interest though. A little over six foot and in decent shape, the man sneered at the class like he was better than them in a way his physical condition should not justify. His peak novice realm cultivation however was the highest Allen had sensed from any student so far, with Kyle’s low novice the highest amongst the yellow class. Retracting his own spirit so it was tightly controlled, Allen made the decision to wait and see how this played out.

“Yellow class” the mans lips ticked up at the corners as he looked over them “I am Christopher Hood. First son and heir to Viscount Timothy Hood. I trust you all enjoyed your first night here at the academy?” he smiled and looked around “For those of you who wish to better yourselves, we are here to offer an opportunity. Your seniors in the green class are in need of allies as they train to strengthen our House guard. The earlier you sign up, the stronger you will be when your service begins upon graduation.”

Allen frowned, but didn’t speak up. He had read the paperwork very carefully, there was no obligation for mandatory service after the academy.

“There are many threats in the world, and the House needs young cultivators such as yourselves to serve, to keep your families and the other citizens safe. Resources are therefore naturally given to those who serve the House as a whole. All those who serve as guards are helped into the first level at least, meaning you will experience the extended lifespan of a cultivator. A few decades service is nothing when compared to the life you will get to live.” He waved his hand, gesturing to his green companions “But that is nothing compared to the power you will wield. And so an example.”

He did not say anything more, he didn’t need to. This was clearly rehearsed. As soon as he finished that final word one of the men from the greens stepped forward, straight towards Kyle.

“Kyle Meadows, I challenge you to a duel. Stakes are all contribution points currently earned.” His smile was smug, and it was immediately obvious this was not the first time a duel like this had happened.

Kyle didn’t even speak, he just started walking to the centre of the room stretching out his arms and shoulder muscles. The older yellow students all looked resigned, while it was obvious the first years were just nervous, still shaken from the blowhards speech. The students spaced out, forming a large circle around the middle of the training area, leaving Kyle and the green class student in squaring off. The noble that seemed to be leading this little show stepped in as well, holding up his arm as if it was a wall between them. Instantly both students bowed to him, then faced back towards their opponent. Before Allen could question that madness, the fight was called and both students started a sort of bizarre dance. Taking advantage of everyone being distracted, Allen let the smallest amount of his spirit leak out, just so he could sense the two combatants. Immediately the fire mana both of them were calling on resonated. Kyle was in the low novice realm, but only barely. His mana was uncultivated, and felt thin. Barely a trickle responded as he called it up. The other man, the guard, wasn’t much better. He did at least have some mana cultivated into each of his dantians, but obviously wasn’t attuned with his element yet. That wasn’t a huge surprise, as while his body dantian was at mid novice, his spirit and mind were both in the lower tier. After what felt like minutes, at least to Allen, both fighters unleashed their techniques. From Kyle a small fireball, the size of a table tennis ball and not quite solid, shot out. Unfortunately it met a much larger version, about the size of a full tennis ball, on the way. The smaller attack seemed to shatter on contact, whereas the larger one continued on, albeit at a slightly smaller size. Seeing the fireball coming his way, Kyle dove to the side, letting it sail over the crowed and into the stone walls at the front of the room. The guard was already waving his hands around again, clearly trying to funnel his mana. Kyle though simply charged him, running forward and tacking the larger man to the floor. Dismissing his attempt to create another fireball, the guard rolled with the tackle and then showed much greater strength to pin Kyle below him. The fight was ugly, more of a pub brawl than skilled exhibition, but there was no debate about the winner. The noble let it run further than was really required, Kyle taking a series of extra punches to the face as he was pinned and unable to defend.

“You see the difference, while Meadows may be a cultivator in name, he does not have the resources even the lowest of our guard ranks are awarded. He came to the academy the son of an independant cultivator, ahead of his peers. But those that chose to serve quickly surpassed him.” The noble leapt back into his act. “House Sussex welcomes all those who would join their guard, and will be accepting oaths today and every three months from this point forward. Just remember, waiting means you will forever be three months weaker than your peers.”

It was a sales act, a dance routine clearly well practised, but it worked. Allen sat back and watched as many of his fellow classmates looked ready to step forward, but none were quite ready yet. The mention of an oath enough to install some fear.

“No? Perhaps we chose badly in our example. Meadows is still a cultivator after all. Let us show you what it means to remain a mortal within the academy walls. Wilson.”

A small woman, tiny at maybe 5 foot even, stepped forward. The grin she wore was evil, and it was clear that what came next would not be pleasant.

“Priya Gill, I challenge you to a duel.”