Chapter 334
Chapter 334: The Agony of 6 AM to 9 PM
Auguste stepped lightly through the towering Academy gates.
The entire city gleamed like the night sky, its brilliant light nearly blanketing every inch of the castle.
Behind him, a procession of noble lords followed close at his heels—like a wolfpack trailing their leader.
As though the stars of the galaxy had converged upon this place.
Standing before the vast and stately Academy, King Auguste felt a surge of pride welling up from somewhere deep within him.
He turned, and began to introduce the place to Auréliane and Viktor:
"This is our Stardust Academy."
"The premier institution for cultivating warriors in Kant Kingdom."
Auréliane looked in the direction Auguste gestured.
The Academy before her resembled less a school than an iron fortress standing defiantly against the wind.
Its walls, outlined in marble and fused from steel and stone, blocked out nearly half the sky.
Magnificent ramparts encircled an expansive grounds, and buildings of varied heights rose in irregular clusters within.
Colorful banners fluttered high in the air, each representing a different faction within the Academy.
The great flags swayed in the breeze, as if engaged in some silent contest.
Atop towers of varying heights, brilliant gems were set into the stonework, each shining in a color matching its faction's banner.
They caught the moonlight and reflected it back, as though a sea of scattered colors hung suspended above the cold steel walls.
The public buildings glimmered with a lustre akin to tiny gemstones fused into the iron itself.
Beneath the moonlight, it was as if a canopy of stars danced across the night sky.
This Academy was most certainly worthy of its name—the Stardust.
All along the path, there were students coming and going without end.
Their bodies were powerfully built, their eyes carrying the same steely resolve one found in soldiers—clearly the product of grueling, high-intensity training.
Their uniforms were pressed and immaculate, the hem of each garment trimmed with gilded embossing, and even the sword sheaths at their waists were engraved with golden patterns.
Upon catching sight of the King, every one of them halted and bowed with deep respect.
Only after receiving Auguste's acknowledgment did they lift their blades again, square their shoulders, and stride back into the Academy with heads held high.
Auguste led the group through the Academy, and as they passed the Training Ground, the sight of students pouring sweat in the night genuinely shook the diplomatic ministers.
The students gripped rough wooden blades, hacking relentlessly at the wooden posts before them.
Each strike drew upon the full force of their bodies, muscles taut, veins surging with blood.
Every blow carried real power—practiced again and again, without cease.
Hundreds of warrior apprentices on the Training Ground were forging and tempering their own flesh.
The intensity and atmosphere they generated seemed to warp the very space around them, wave after wave of Sword Aura cutting through the air as if to cleave the earth apart.
Though it was already nighttime, still they pressed on.
The diplomatic ministers present absorbed the Academy's atmosphere in silence, their jaws nearly dropping.
To speak frankly, on their previous visits to Kant Kingdom, they had never once set foot in this enormous institution.
Naturally, they had never come to understand the particular appeal of this Kingdom's Academy.
Those young students radiated dense, vigorous Blood Energy from head to toe.
The Blood Energy of warriors.
It surged within them like a raging river charging forward in full flood, like a furious great beast rampaging inside their chests.
Watching these vibrant young people, all the ministers could not help but exclaim:
"What a remarkable standard among the students."
"After graduating, this cohort could likely step directly into the Kingdom's armed forces."
The experience of witnessing this Academy had stirred something in the diplomatic ministers, and they found themselves involuntarily comparing it to their own Empire's Magic Academy.
Though both Academies were established in their respective nations' capitals,
Not only did they differ in field of focus—even in terms of the raw caliber of their students, the Empire simply could not compare to the Kingdom's Academy.
Those men of the Empire knew their own institution well.
Before Rashel had established the Royal Magic Academy,
Becoming a Mage in the Empire was, for all practical purposes, a privilege reserved exclusively for the nobility.
Magical knowledge had been wholly monopolized by the Empire's noble class, and commoners had no means of purchasing those prohibitively expensive Spellbooks.
That had changed only when Rashel Azure-Blue—an Imperial Mage who had joined the Mage Council and risen to the rank of Council Member—
Sought to carry the Mage profession to greater heights, and founded the Royal Magic Academy in the Empire's Royal Capital.
Because Rashel was not of noble birth. He came from commoner stock.
His original intention was to use the Council's wealth of magical knowledge to allow more commoner students access to Magic, to bring more Mages into the Empire.
But reality was unforgiving—
The number of commoners who passed the Academy's entrance was vanishingly small, while noble entrants grew more numerous by the year.
This was, in a way, perfectly natural. After all, the Royal Magic Academy evaluated applicants on aptitude and innate talent.
Very few commoners had ever devoted themselves to studying Magic from childhood—to poring through those dense, arcane Spellbooks.
Because they could not afford to.
Nobles, on the other hand, could cultivate a magical foundation from birth.
With that contrast in place, the starting line between the 2 groups was inevitably unequal.
And so, after round after round of filtering, commoners within the Royal Magic Academy were few and far between.
It had somehow become, through no deliberate design, an Academy for nobles.
And the fledgling Mages produced under the cultivation of the noble class had almost no exposure to real combat.
Because those noble students were, by and large, pampered young lords and ladies—and the first ones to stand up in objection whenever real combat was proposed were the noble parents themselves.
Though that, too, was hardly surprising.
Who would willingly send their children to a battlefield when their household was already wealthy and comfortable?
The Kingdom's Academy, however, was altogether different.
As King Auguste had described, the Stardust Academy had a long history within the Kingdom.
By comparison—how long had the Empire's Royal Magic Academy even been in existence?
Council Member Rashel was, to this day, still its founding Principal.
Of course, Kant Kingdom placed emphasis on the cultivation of warriors, so naturally it invested greater effort into the warrior profession.
The Stardust Academy offered 1 condition that could move the hearts of countless commoners.
Those who distinguished themselves at the Academy
Could earn an honorary star rating—and become nobles.
The probability was extraordinarily low.
But every year, without fail, a tiny few would rise from among thousands—sometimes tens of thousands—of students, and claim a Baron's title.
For a commoner, this was genuinely the most accessible path to advancement.
It was precisely because the Kingdom's warrior Academy had laid out such a clear goal and tangible hope before its students
That those students threw themselves into this relentless internal competition without end.
At that moment, the King continued walking and narrating for his guests:
"Students begin training at sunrise. They may choose to rest or continue pushing themselves."
"Many will keep training until long after the sun has set, refusing to stop until their bodies are completely spent."
"Of course, should any of them develop physical problems, we do have dedicated treatment facilities."
Even so, several of Kant Kingdom's noble lords fell into quiet thought at these words.
A few among them had risen from precisely this very place.
Before that, they too had been commoners.
What Auguste said was truthful, certainly.
But the circumstances students found themselves in were far more complex than the description let on.
This kind of training was what virtually every student undertook.
Without exceptional talent, the only recourse was prolonged and relentless effort to close the gap.
It was a competition that demanded thousands upon thousands of times more effort than ordinary people would put in.
Nobody wanted to train like this—but the moment they stopped, they would be swept away by the relentless current of this selection process.
And the class ascension they had dreamed of so fervently would become utterly impossible to achieve.
It was true—if a student fell ill, they would receive treatment. But what then, once they recovered?
They were worse off than those who had merely slacked for a time.
They could not even push their bodies through high-intensity training in their weakened state, which was essentially a death sentence handed down to them by the competition.
Because the warrior path was both the most accessible route to advancement and the most equitable one the Kingdom offered.
And so students had no choice but to pursue their desires through this extreme, almost warped intensity of effort.
On top of that, the warrior profession was one that ran on youth.
All they had to do was attend the Academy and they had a chance at nobility—why wouldn't they give everything they had?
As the diplomatic ministers listened to the King's introduction, their hearts swelled with a deeper respect for the students here.
No wonder Kant Kingdom had earned its renown as a nation of fighters—a country where the entire population could become warriors.
And even those who graduated without achieving noble status had no shortage of paths open to them afterward.
They could join the military and rise to officer rank, take up mercenary work, or if nothing else, become farmers capable of tilling the land faster than anyone within hundreds of miles—
At that moment, the King stepped alongside Viktor and spoke in a leisurely tone:
"Council Member, what do you think?"
"If I wished to establish a Magic Academy within the Royal City, would it be better to found a Stardust branch directly—or to seek out a separate location and build an entirely new Academy?"
Viktor's gaze gradually turned toward this young King.
Before he could open his mouth to respond, a young female instructor suddenly stepped forward to stand before the King.
She wore a lead-gray instructor's uniform, and at her collar were pinned 2-star rank medallions.
This indicated she was also a Viscount within Kant Kingdom.
"Your Majesty, your visit was rather unexpected—the Academy has not yet had proper opportunity to prepare for your reception."
Auguste waved his hand dismissively:
"It is of no matter."
"After all, it is precisely this way that one sees the Academy in its truest state."
He then turned to Viktor and the others nearby, introducing the female instructor:
"This is one of the Stardust Academy's newest instructors, and a former classmate of mine."
"Hilda Fanteni."
Auguste smiled lightly and continued:
"Though she is a woman, she is presently the youngest and most accomplished instructor the Academy has."
The King spoke as he introduced her, and Hilda—the instructor he had named—bowed deeply toward the Imperial guests, with impeccable courtesy.
"Welcome, esteemed guests who have traveled from afar."
"I am an instructor of the 【Stardust Academy】—Hilda Fanteni."
She raised her head, and her gaze swept across the visitors from the Empire.
When Hilda's eyes landed on Viktor, a flicker of puzzlement passed through them.
The person before her seemed somehow familiar.
But she was frequently occupied with various duties about the Academy, and in that moment could not quite place who Viktor was.
Perhaps just some notable figure she had encountered somewhere in passing.
And so the King began introducing him to her as well.
"This is Count Viktor Clavena of the Kingdom of Carencia, and the Chief Professor of the Imperial Magic Academy."
"Like you—young, and of exceptional ability."
Viktor stood with unruffled calm, hands in pockets, expression impassive, offering nothing more than a cool nod in acknowledgment.
At the King's words of praise, a faint flush crept across Hilda's face, though she did her best to maintain composure.
But the moment she heard Viktor's name, she paused slightly.
It seemed to ring a bell—though she could not quite place it yet.
The King had not forgotten. He continued, turning to introduce the Imperial Princess on the other side:
"And this is Princess Auréliane, who has come to us from the Empire."