CHAPTER 13: The Gates of the Imperial College
The dawn broke over the Inner City in shades of brilliant gold, burning away the morning mist that blanketed the marble avenues. Today marked the official opening of the academic term for the Imperial Grand Martial College (Inner City Branch)—the most prestigious, strictly merit-based institution in the entire Southern Realm.
Standing before the towering, hundred-foot gates of green jade and dark iron, thousands of new students gathered in excited, nervous clusters.
Unlike the Outer District testing grounds, the crowd here was composed almost entirely of noble heirs. Dressed in tailored silk robes embroidered with family crests, riding high-grade spirit steeds, or surrounded by private retinues, these youths carried an air of effortless superiority.
Suddenly, the crowd parted.
A grand, black-and-gold luxury carriage drawn by two magnificent Shadow-Breeze Horses glided to a smooth stop near the main archway.
The carved wooden door swung open, and Gabriel stepped out first. He wore a dark, tailored coat over his celestial dragon silk robes, radiating a quiet, crushing dignity that caused several passing noble elders to halt in their tracks.
Behind him stepped Ethan and Elena.
Wearing their sleek navy-and-silver House Sterling combat coats, their adaptive weapons wrapped cleanly at their waists, the twins stood tall. Their skin was clear, their breathing deep and rhythmic—a direct result of their physical body-conditioning under the Nine-Bones Iron Dragon Method.
Behind them, standing quietly with folded hands, was Malakor. To the untrained eye, he appeared to be an attentive, dark-robed family steward, completely suppressing the terrifying presence of a Peak Martial Master.
"Look... that's them!" "The twin S-Ranks from the Outer Slums? House Sterling?" "I heard their butler shattered Commander Drake Valerius's sword with his bare hands yesterday right outside the Registry Hall!" "Hmph, so what if their butler is strong? The college grounds forbid personal guards from entering. Once they step inside those gates, they're on their own against the noble factions."
Slightly disdainful whispers rippled through the crowd of noble students, but Ethan and Elena didn't even blink.
Gabriel turned to his son and daughter, adjusting the collar of Ethan's coat and smoothing Elena's silver trim.
"In the classroom and on the training grounds, remember who you are," Gabriel said, his voice quiet, rich, and carrying an immovable authority. "You do not seek out trouble, but if any arrogant noble heir tries to put their foot on your neck... break their legs."
Ethan grinned sharply, touching the hilt of his linen-wrapped spear. "Understood, Dad."
"No one steps on House Sterling," Elena added, her azure eyes glinting like polished glass.
"Good," Gabriel smiled warmly, ruffling their hair. "Malakor and I will be waiting at the estate. Show them what real strength looks like."
With a final nod, the twins turned and walked through the grand jade archway, disappearing into the vast grounds of the Imperial College.
The Grand Orientation Auditorium was a massive, amphitheater-style hall capable of holding ten thousand people. High above, floating spirit-lamps cast a soft, luminous light over rows of white marble seating.
Ethan and Elena found two empty seats near the middle row. As soon as they sat down, the surrounding noble students subtly shifted away, leaving a three-seat buffer around them as if commoner blood were contagious.
"Look at them, acting so high and mighty," a sneering, arrogant voice piped up from two rows down.
A young man clad in fiery red robes embroidered with the manticore crest of House Valerius turned around, eyeing the twins with cold contempt.
Garron Valerius—a direct genius of the Valerius Inner Lineage, currently cultivating at Mortal Physique (Peak - Gold Bones), and the top-ranked student among the new intake.
"S-Rank talents from the gutter," Garron smirked, loudly enough for the entire section to hear. "Enjoy your little illusion while it lasts, rats. The college testing arena doesn't care about your lucky aptitude tests. When the Internal Placement Exam begins in three months, I will personally show you the gap between true noble blood and commoner trash."
Ethan leaned back in his marble seat, resting his chin on his hand. He didn't even raise his voice.
"You speak a lot for someone whose branch commander got his sword broken by my butler yesterday," Ethan said calmly. "Does House Valerius teach weapon-breaking or just trash-talking?"
Pfft!
Several commoner scholars and neutral guild students in the upper rows stifled snickers.
Garron’s face flushed bright red, his eyes flaring with murderous intent. "You little bastard—!"
"SILENCE!"
A thunderous, booming voice echoed across the auditorium, vibrating the stone walls and instantly smothering every conversation in the room.
A tall, elderly man with a long white beard and austere grey robes stepped onto the central elevated stage. His aura was deep, steady, and suffocating—the unmistakable pressure of an Early-Stage Martial Scholar.
Vice-Principal Oberon—Head of Academic Affairs for the Inner Branch.
Oberon’s cold, sharp gaze swept over the thousands of quiet students.
"Welcome to the Imperial Grand Martial College," Oberon announced coldly. "Here, your family background means nothing. Only strength, discipline, and martial contribution matter. Today, you begin your first foundational lecture: The History of the Realm and the Balance of Power."
Oberon flicked his sleeve, and a massive, glowing holographic map of the continent expanded above the stage.
"As future martial artists of the empire, you must understand the world you inhabit," Oberon instructed, pointing to the central region of the map.
"Our world is divided into four major ruling domains under the central authority of The Solari Imperial Household. The Imperial House rules with absolute authority, backed by two Martial Kings—our reigning Emperor and the Imperial Grand Ancestor—alongside fifteen Martial Grandmasters."
The students listened in hushed awe. A Martial King was an entity capable of flattening mountains with a single spatial domain!
"Below the central empire sit the three Grand Factions," Oberon continued, sweeping his hand across the regional borders.
"To the West, House Zephyrus, masters of trade, alchemy, and resource distribution, backed by one Martial King and seven Grandmasters.
To the South—where our city resides—House Valerius, warlords of the wilderness, taming high-tier beasts and guarding the borders with one Martial King and eight Grandmasters."
Garron Valerius puffed his chest out with arrogant pride, casting a smug look back toward Ethan and Elena.
"And to the North," Oberon’s voice dropped slightly, carrying a heavy weight, "lies House Aurelius—the Sword Monarch Realm. The second strongest force in the empire, holding one Martial King and nine Martial Grandmasters. They are renowned for their peerless, absolute sword mastery and obsessive pride in bloodline purity."
Sitting in her row, Elena’s breath hitched slightly.
House Aurelius... Mom's family.
She squeezed her fists tightly beneath her sleeves, remembering her father’s words: The second strongest force in the empire. One day, House Sterling would march on that Northern Realm and drag her mother back.
"Finally," Oberon concluded, gesturing to a neutral golden emblem on the side, "the Global Adventurer Guild and the Imperial Academies operate independently, maintaining balance across the territories with the remaining eleven Grandmasters and the Guildmaster General."
Oberon closed the holographic map, his sharp eyes lingering briefly on Ethan and Elena before looking back at the crowd.
"For the next three months, your daily routine will consist of foundational martial theory, element alignment, and grueling physical body conditioning," Oberon declared sternly. "Class dismissed! Head to your assigned training fields!"
An hour later, on the expansive stone training grounds of the First-Year Division...
The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly as three hundred new students stood in rows, sweating profusely under heavy gravity formations.
"Again!" the instructor barked, pacing between the rows with an iron rod. "Ten thousand high-kicks! No Qi allowed! Pure physical endurance!"
While noble students like Garron were gritting their teeth, their legs trembling from exhaustion, Ethan and Elena moved with effortless, terrifying precision.
Their gold-tempered bones and dense physical muscles—forged by Gabriel’s Nine-Bones Iron Dragon Method—handled the gravity formation like a light summer breeze. Their sweat was minimal, their breathing perfectly controlled.
"Look at those two..." "They aren't even using Qi, but they've done five thousand reps without shaking!" "Are their bodies made of iron?!"
Garron Valerius, wiped sweat from his eyes, glaring at Ethan with burning jealousy. He couldn't accept that commoner slum rats were outperforming him in raw physical endurance.
Just wait until the College Dungeon Practice next month, Garron thought bitterly, his eyes narrowing into venomous slits. Inside the wild dungeons, accidents happen all the time...
Unbeknownst to Garron, high above the clouds, hovering invisibly right over the college grounds, sat the Floating Cloud Island.
Inside a serene, jade-carved pavilion on the floating island, Gabriel sat sipping chilled spirit wine, looking down through a spatial mirror that clearly displayed the entire training field.
Beside him, Malakor bowed respectfully. "Clan Master, young master Garron of House Valerius harbors deep malice toward the young master and lady. Shall I remove him tonight?"
Gabriel took a quiet sip of his wine, a dark, amused smile touching his lips.
"No need," Gabriel replied smoothly, watching Ethan execute another flawless physical strike. "Let him try whatever petty schemes he wants. My children need stepping stones to sharpen their blades... and when Garron leaps too high, Ethan and Elena will break his legs themselves."