Dom knew the Academy would be brutal from Pop's stories, but nothing truly prepared him for the reality.
Lectures overwhelmed his mind. Combat sessions tore into his skin. Stamina drills shattered his body until even standing became exhausting.
But Dom endured.
Years of Pops' training had forged stubborn endurance into his bones, and his obsession with reaching his goal pushed him through every miserable day.
One month later…
Inside a familiar dorm room, a certain stoic teen stepped out of the steaming bathroom while drying his wet black hair with a towel.
Water dripped across his lean, muscular frame beneath the dim lights as he stopped mid-step, eyes shifting toward the floor.
Dom was upside down doing vertical push-ups beside his bed, counting through each rep with gritted teeth.
"Five hundred seventy-one… five hundred seventy-two… five hundred seventy-three…"
The teen sighed and slung the towel over his shoulder. "We were told to rest, Dominic." He said while walking toward his closet. "Keep training like this and your body's eventually going to break down."
Dom smirked despite the strain burning through his arms. "Just because of the Academy's routine doesn't mean I can slack off on mine." He grunted while pushing himself upward again.
The teen narrowed his eyes silently while brushing his hair.
"Besides…" Dom muttered between reps as he lowered himself again, "…should you really be lecturing me when you sneak out almost every night to do extra training yourself?"
The teen visibly flinched before scowling toward him. "I thought you were asleep." He muttered.
Dom chuckled. "You're not the first person I've tricked."He said. "I used to sneak out to train all the time when I was a kid, too."
The teen raised a brow. "We're still technically kids, you know." He commented.
"Either way," Dom snapped back, completely ignoring that comment. " I won't snitch, as long as you don't."
The teen stared at him for a moment before sighing in defeat.
"Fine." He muttered dismissively.
Dom grinned wider and continued.
"Five hundred seventy-eight… five hundred seventy-nine…"
As the reps continued, his thoughts drifted back to Johan's speech during their first orientation.
A warning that reminded him of another conversation months earlier--the day he first received his acceptance letter.
< Pops sat on the porch of their home, a cigarette between his lips while re-reading the Academy letter for what felt like the thousandth time.
"Pops?"
He looked up as Dom approached, sweat glistering on his bare, muscular torso after training.
"You sure you're gonna be okay?" He asked.
Pops lowered the letter slowly before exhaling smoke into the evening air. "To be honest…" He admitted quietly, "…I don't know."
Dom frowned slightly.
Pops noticed immediately and chuckled.
"Don't look glum, kid." He said while neatly folding the letter. "How I feel about this doesn't matter. You've got a goal, and you're determined to see it through." He smirked faintly. "Besides… we've already come too far to turn back now, right?"
Dom smiled softly and sat beside him.
But as Pops handed the letter over, his expression gradually darkened.
"There is one more thing I need to tell you," He said seriously. "I know I've warned you a hundred times how rough the Academy's gonna be… but I don't think I've ever talked about the Royal Council yet."
"The Council?" Dom asked.
Pops took another long drag before answering.
"Even though the King's the absolute ruler of the South-Land, the Council's the group that actually manages most of the country." His eyes darkened slightly. "And trust me… every last one of them is selfish."
Silence settled between them.
"They smile for the public," Pops continued. "Promise peace. Prosperity. Security." His gaze lowered toward the cigarette smoke drifting upward. "But people who've dealt with them personally know better."
Dom frowned, the words slowly settling in. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked.
Pops gestured toward the Academy letter.
"Because the Knights are usually the ones sent to handle the Council's dirty work."
Dom's grip tightened around the paper immediately.
"I only heard rumors back when I still served in the Army," Pops continued thoughtfully. "Before the war ended, the Council exploited military operations for personal gain. Land. Treasure. Resources. Whatever benefited them."
He tapped ash into the tray beside him.
"Nowadays, military regulations make that harder to pull off openly." His gaze shifted toward Dom. "But with a bunch of mostly powerful and untrained mages like the Knights? Most people would believe almost anything about them while covering their own asses."
Dom's expression hardened. "Why?" He asked.
Pops stared at the drifting smoke, briefly lost in thought. "Because all humans are selfish, Dom. Including you and me." He answered quietly. "The only problem is that we don't always act on it. And unfortunately, the ones who rule over us do."
His expression tightened slightly.
"That's one of the reasons why I never wanted you to become a Knight."
Dom stayed silent, still reeling from this new information.
"You'll definitely save people," Pops admitted. "Whether out of duty or political image, the Council still needs to protect the citizens." His eyes narrowed slightly. "But eventually…they'll try to use you too."
Dom's jaw tightened, his gaze lowered as he imagined himself in such a compromising state. "If that happens…" He muttered. "… what should I do?"
Pops stayed silent for several seconds before answering honestly.
"I don't know,"
Dom frowned deeper.
"Accepting those kinds of jobs will mean going against your ideals." Pops continued carefully. "But refusing them could make powerful enemies." His expression darkened. "Worse-case scenario? They strip your status away and start hunting you like a criminal."
Dom stiffened at the thought.
"But…" Pops added, placing a hand on Dom's head. "I trust you'll figure it out when the time comes. Prepare for the worst, expect the worst."
Dom raised a brow. "Why do you always say it like that? Isn't it supposed to be prepared for the best?" He asked,
Pops looked away, his gaze growing distant as he withdrew his hand. "It's just something an old friend used to say." He admitted, a strange, soft smile tugging at his lips. "If you always expect the worst, it won't surprise you when it happens. Unless…"
He gave Dom a teasing smirk.
"… you finally decided to change your mind?"
Dom immediately nudged his side with a cocky grin. "Hell no." He said.
"I thought so." Pops chuckled, nudging him back with a warm smile. "You're going to be okay, kid. No doubt."
"I know…" Dom said, turning his gaze to the leaves scattered by a cool, gentle breeze across the yard.
They sat quietly, simply enjoying the moment.
Then Dom suddenly spoke again.
"But you're wrong about one thing, though…"
Pops glanced toward him.
"How you feel does matter." He continued, then gave Pops a cheeky smile. "You're going to be okay, too, Pops." He said.
Pops froze slightly.
The words were simple.
But somehow…they eased fears he never allowed himself to admit aloud.
"Thanks." He replied softly with a smile.>
Back in the present…
Dom grinned at the fond memory, then groaned as he pushed his aching body up one more time.
"Six hundred!"
He held the pose for a second, then flipped onto his feet while panting heavily with a tired grin on his face.
A shirt suddenly smacked directly into his sweaty face.
He pulled it off and smirked in recognition. "Oh. There's my lucky tank top. I was looking for it."
"How many times have I told you to stop leaving your clothes everywhere?" His roommate grumbled from the far cleaner side of the room.
"Sorry," Dom replied casually while tossing the shirt onto his completely unmade bed.
His roommate sighed and returned to neatly folding laundry.
And just like that, the usual sibling-like bickering resumed…
A major part of the Academy's training focused on teamwork. Recruits were assigned partners whose magic type, combat class, and overall skill sets complemented their own.
To strengthen that bond, partners were forced to live together, attend the same training sessions, and even share punishments regardless of who caused the offense. The system was designed to build absolute trust and camaraderie between recruits, regardless of differences in personality or ideals.
Dom and his assigned partner, Dae, became one of the Academy's most unusual examples of that philosophy.
Dae was exceptional--intellectually gifted, disciplined, polite, and obsessively rule-abiding. The textbook definition of a perfect student.
Dom was his complete opposite.
Adaptive to a frightening degree, reckless enough to seem suicidal at times, and equipped with a mouth nearly as sharp as his mind.
Watching them interact outside combat was almost painful sometimes, let alone imagining them functioning properly as a team.
Ironically, however, their chemistry in battle surpassed that of every other pair by an astronomical margin.
The clearest example came near the end of their first year during the infamous Enemy Survival Course--an Academy exercise where partnered recruits were locked inside a barrier arena that continuously spawned increasingly powerful enemy constructs for as long as the partners could continue fighting.
The standing Academy record was forty-seven consecutive minutes…
Until Dom and Dae shattered that record.
The first hour stunned spectators.
By the second, instructors had begun gathering around the arena.
By the third, even Johan arrived personally to watch.
Inside the barrier, Dae tore through the mana constructs with violent bursts of lightning magic, his body moving at impossible speeds while his twin blades carved glowing streaks through the battlefield like an unstoppable storm.
Meanwhile, Dom confidently leapt into hordes of enemies, obliterating everything in range through sheer overwhelming physical force. His punches shattered concrete like it was glass, and his kicks decimated anything unlucky enough to remain in his reach.
But… even when their mana reserves began running dry…
Even when fatigue slowed their movements…and blood poured from their accumulating wounds.
They refused to stop fighting.
Again and again.
Until both finally collapsed after surviving nearly four continuous hours.
The arena had fallen completely silent afterward.
Not from disappointment.
But disbelief.
That single incident revealed something terrifying about the two prodigies.
Despite their constant arguments and completely opposing personalities, both possessed the same obsession--
The relentless, almost monstrous drive to become stronger.
And as the years passed, that obsession only intensified.
The two continued breaking records with Dae's academic superiority competing against Dom's incredible combat-oriented feats.
They surpassed all expectations, both from peers, rivals, and even their trainers, while still secretly training beyond Academy requirements.
Before long, their reputation echoed throughout the entire Academy.