Volume One: The Awakening of the Dragon Soul Chapter 3: The Most Prestigious Academy

A week had passed since the bandits invaded the village. Shiyan had contacted the royal city’s special police to bring the culprits to justice, and now guards came daily to patrol and stand watch, ensuring the villagers’ safety and livelihoods.

As for the greatest hero, it was undoubtedly Moxing, who had taken their leader by surprise. The villagers of Scarf Town welcomed him with open arms, treating him as one of their own.

“This is the letter of recommendation the village committee wrote for you,” the village chief said, handing Moxing an envelope embossed with golden print. His eyes shone with hope, and his face was filled with an almost paternal expectation.

“Thank you,” Moxing replied, dressed in formal attire with a dark backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Our village is truly blessed with talent. Another one awakened to their power, ha!” the chief chuckled. “Study well at the academy and find a good job in the future.”

“I will,” Moxing promised. As soon as he finished speaking, a hand clapped down on his shoulder. He turned to see Mianhua grinning at him.

“Grandpa Chief, you can rest assured! With me as his senior, Moxing will be well taken care of.”

Mianhua gave a thumbs-up with his left hand and rhythmically patted Moxing’s shoulder with his right, as if to say: Kid, I’m warning you, with me around, don’t even think about getting close to little Shiyan.

“Good, good.” The chief’s eyes drifted past the two, then he seemed to recall something. “Your luggage is already loaded onto the carriage. You should get ready to set off.”

“Yes, sir!”

A short while later, aboard the carriage.

“Shiyan, you seem a bit down,” Mianhua noticed, glancing at her sulking beside him.

“It’s just that when we were leaving, my grandma insisted on stuffing a bag of gold coins into my hands, saying she was afraid I wouldn’t have enough money,” Shiyan complained, shaking the small pouch. “I’ve long been able to earn my own way.”

“Well—” Mianhua hesitated, unsure how to respond.

“Just think of it as a little token of her affection and blessing,” Moxing offered.

“You’re right. If I hadn’t accepted it, Grandma would have been upset.” Shiyan nodded. “You’re cleverer than I am.”

“Oh, not at all...” Moxing scratched his head awkwardly, thinking to himself that this was like a “red envelope” in this world, though he doubted they’d understand if he called it that.

“Ahem, Moxing—” Mianhua cleared his throat and placed his hand back on Moxing’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “How’s your training these days? Can you freely wield your power?”

“It’s still unstable. Sometimes I can sustain it for two seconds, other times there’s no sign at all.” As he spoke, Moxing closed his eyes, stretched out his palm, and a sphere of energy slowly rose, glowing faintly white, before quickly vanishing.

“That’s so weak—” Mianhua shook his head. “How did you land that fatal blow before?”

“Don’t lose heart, Moxing,” Shiyan encouraged him. “Once you’re at the academy, the mentors will help you unlock your potential.”

“Alright,” Moxing replied. Over the past few days, he had borrowed some books from Mianhua, learning not just the methods for channeling and controlling power, but also delving into the history of this world.

The continent of Aslant was a remnant of the ancient gods’ wars. In their final battle, the gods exhausted their strength, their souls shattered and scattered to every corner of the world. Thus, this land was blessed by divine forces.

Everyone’s moment of awakening was different. Most people awakened their powers in adolescence—this was called “natural awakening.”

For the noble families of pure lineage, power awakened at birth—this was “bloodline awakening.”

Some, however, never awakened, living out ordinary lives.

Wealthy people, craving power, could purchase elixirs to force an awakening. The higher the elixir’s quality, the greater the power and the fewer side effects—this was “artificial awakening.” In his mind, Moxing dubbed these people “pay-to-win players.”

But not every creature was favored by the gods. Some animals, through misfortune, mutated into monsters—what Moxing thought of as the world’s “wild mobs,” like the blue beast he’d encountered in the rain.

Viewing this world through the lens of a game was the only way Moxing could make sense of its unscientific phenomena.

But this wasn’t a game—it was a real, foreign world! Over these days, through observation and conversation, he’d found the food flavorful, biting his finger stung, and even standing under the sun for training left him tanned.

All signs pointed to one conclusion:

He really had crossed into another world!

“Moxing! Wake up!” The scent of lilacs washed over him as Moxing rubbed his eyes to see Shiyan waving her hand in front of him.

“What...what is it?” he asked.

“We’ve arrived at the academy!” Shiyan smiled.

Looking up, Moxing saw several crimson, European-style buildings towering like giants. The streets were paved with vibrant tiles, and in the square stood a lavish fountain, six statues holding different weapons raised to the sky. Shops lined the sides, and crowds bustled to and fro.

This was the grandest institution in all Aslant—the Saint Sky Royal Academy!

“Don’t just stand there!” Mianhua shouted from below. “Hurry and unload the luggage!”

Snapping out of his daze, Moxing helped Mianhua with the luggage while Shiyan went to pay the driver.

Just then, someone bumped into Mianhua’s arm. He was about to curse when he saw it was an old man with a broom. He immediately closed his mouth. Moxing glanced over as the old man coughed twice.

“S-sorry,” the old man said quietly before continuing on his way.

Moxing felt the man looked familiar, as if he’d seen him before—wasn’t it raining that day...?

“Mr. Shen?!” Moxing regained his senses and leapt from the carriage, but Mr. Shen only turned, smiled, and disappeared into the crowd.

“Hey, where are you going?” Mianhua caught hold of Moxing at once.

“That old man—who is he?” Moxing asked urgently.

“Oh, him? He’s just the street sweeper,” Mianhua sighed. “No need to bother.”

“Is his name Mr. Shen?” Moxing pressed.

“What Mr. Shen?” Mianhua grew impatient. “Let’s get the luggage inside. Whatever it is, you can ask later!”

“Alright...” Moxing glanced back at the crowd, resolving to find Mr. Shen and get to the bottom of things.

After sorting their luggage, the three walked to the registration building.

The hall was already bustling. About a dozen people stood in line. At the first table sat three formally dressed staff, with a crystal sphere in front of them, facing the students.

“Zhang Busan, new admission, level fifteen.”

“Li Chigua, third year, level thirty-two.”

“Wang Zha, second year, level twenty-six.”

The man sitting farthest right called out names into a megaphone.

“What are they doing?” Moxing whispered.

“They’re testing power levels. It’s a crucial part of registration,” Shiyan explained, “Just touch the crystal sphere and it’ll show your level.”

“It’s essentially a special stopwatch—the hand points to your level, up to sixty,” Mianhua, standing behind, added.

“Oh, I see,” Moxing said, finally understanding.

“Next three!”

“Hey, Teacher Tianqi!” Mianhua suddenly jumped ahead, waving vigorously. “Long time no see!”

“Ahem.” The mentor in the center frowned, his gentle expression turning stern. “Isn’t this Mianhua, our academy’s number one truant? Here early for once?”

“I couldn’t miss your combat classes—your teaching is so much better than the rest!” Mianhua joked.

“Who is that?” Moxing whispered.

“Yang Tianqi, one of the academy’s ten renowned mentors,” Shiyan replied quietly. “Just call him Teacher Tianqi.”

“Mianhua, third year, level forty-six,” Teacher Tianqi read, shaking his head and sighing. “No progress at all.”

“It’s fine, those other third-years didn’t even reach forty!” Mianhua whispered.

“My turn now.” Shiyan handed over her student card and placed her hand on the crystal sphere. A faint light flashed; the hand wavered, then settled on a number.

“Shiyan, second year, level fifty-five!”

The announcement was met with cheers.

“Wow! She’s only in her second year and already at fifty-five!”

“And she’s so pretty!”

“Don’t you know? She’s also the vice president of the student council!”

“Amazing—beauty and brains!”

Moxing was startled by the scene. The girl before him was far more outstanding—and popular—than he’d imagined.

“You should learn from your cousin,” Teacher Tianqi whispered to Mianhua.

“You—” Mianhua was momentarily lost for words.

“Next!”

Teacher Tianqi turned his attention to Moxing.

“Hello, teachers!” Moxing stammered, suddenly nervous as all three looked at him—it was his turn.

“The other two are senior students helping out,” Mianhua interjected, and they smiled reassuringly.

“He’s new, just nervous,” Shiyan explained. “From my village.”

“I see,” Teacher Tianqi squinted. “Please hand me your letter of recommendation.”

“Yes, of course.” Moxing quickly opened his backpack and handed over the envelope.

“It’s verified—a recommendation from Scarf Town,” the senior to the right confirmed with a nod.

“Let’s begin the test, then,” Teacher Tianqi gestured invitingly.

Moxing slowly placed his hand on the crystal sphere. A faint glow flickered. Mianhua leaned over, then his face changed. The recording senior also looked, jaw dropping in shock.

“Z-zero...zero?” he stammered.

Teacher Tianqi frowned and approached. Shiyan, too, looked puzzled.

A heavy silence fell.

“So...I have no power level?” Moxing ventured.

“Try again,” Shiyan encouraged, patting his shoulder.

Moxing placed his hand on the sphere once more. The glow appeared, but the hand didn’t move an inch—it was as if it were frozen.

“Still zero...” Moxing sighed.

“Don’t panic. Listen—zero and sixty overlap on the dial,” Mianhua pointed out. “Maybe you’ve surpassed level sixty, and the sphere can’t show your true power.”

“He hasn’t,” Teacher Tianqi interrupted. “If someone breaks through sixty, the sphere cracks from the overflow of power. I’ve only seen three such students; one is your close friend—Zhang Zhihao.”

He turned to Moxing. “But this student truly is—”

“Level zero!”