The second trial ended without much difficulty.
Compared to the first one, it was almost too simple. The knowledge assessment covered basic cultivation theory, public regulations, academy structure, and a few common field-response questions. Most of the applicants who had reached this stage were already prepared for that much.
Arin finished early, but he did not leave his seat immediately. He reviewed his answers once, then waited until the system signaled completion.
When the results were finally released, Team 13 remained among the top performers from the first trial. Out of the seventeen original teams, only eight had passed overall. Their team placed within the top three.
That was enough.
The moment the final confirmation appeared, their temporary examination tags were withdrawn and replaced by official academy entry credentials.
Accepted.
For a short moment, Arin looked at the word in silence.
It was done.
Not long after, the successful applicants were guided toward the academy registration wing. The flow of people had changed now. The tension from the examination halls was gone, replaced by a quieter kind of excitement. Some looked relieved. Some looked proud. Some were already speaking about points, rankings, and class groups as if they had belonged here from the start.
Arin said little as he walked with the others.
The registration hall was broad and bright, divided into several sections by suspended blue-white signs. Identity verification. Student assignment. Resource issuance. Residential allocation. New students were directed from one station to the next with efficient speed.
At the first station, his identity, treatment history, and semi-core stabilization records were checked and confirmed without delay.
A small metallic badge was issued to him along with a student terminal band. The old public terminal he had been using could still connect to outside systems, but the academy band carried internal permissions, training access, point tracking, dormitory clearance, and classroom authorization.
When he fastened it around his wrist, the interface lit briefly and recognized him at once.
Student Identity Activated.
Then came the point transfer.
Base enrollment reward: 1000 Academy Points.
Trial ranking reward: 600 Academy Points.
Current balance: 1600 Academy Points.
Another line appeared beneath it.
Additional trial commendation: Priority First-Selection Access
Reason: Top-three placement with complete original team survival
Arin's eyes paused on the words for a moment.
The academy had not added more points.
It had given them something else instead.
The staff member at the terminal noticed where his gaze had stopped.
"Students with this commendation receive earlier access in first-day selection categories," she said. "Weapon registration, manual selection, dormitory assignment, and starter resource issue are processed ahead of standard admitted groups."
That explained why the lines ahead had moved so quickly for him.
It also meant that surviving the first trial with all five original members had mattered more than he first thought.
He moved to the next station.
The resource issuance section was larger than the others. Several projection panels floated above long counters, each displaying different starter options for newly admitted students. Manuals. Medicines. Training rights. Beginner equipment. Weapon registration. Even from a distance, the place felt less like a school office and more like the controlled distribution center of an organized institution.
A female staff member at one of the counters checked his band, then opened his new student file.
"Top-three entry reward confirmed," she said. "Priority first-selection access confirmed. You have access to the standard first-year joining package and enhanced early selection privileges. Mandatory issue items may be claimed now. Optional purchases can be made through the exchange system afterward."
A panel opened in front of him.
First-Year Joining Package
— Beginner cultivation manual access
— One basic martial technique selection
— Starter medicine pack
— One registered beginner weapon
— Academy uniform set
— Residential assignment
— General orientation access
Below that was another section.
New Student Core Support Information
Arin's gaze shifted slightly.
The staff member touched the screen once, and a more detailed list appeared.
Tier 1 Standard Regulation Core
Tier 1 Flow Regulation Core
Tier 1 Fortress Reinforcement Core
Tier 1 Precision Regulation Core
Tier 1 Recovery Support Core
For a brief moment, Arin did not speak.
He had expected differences in tier and price.
He had not expected this many functional divisions.
The staff member must have noticed the pause, because she said, "Public information usually simplifies artificial cores by tier. Inside regulated institutions, classification by type is standard."
Arin looked at the list again.
So even among Tier 1 cores, the paths were already different.
Not far from him, another newly accepted student at the next counter stared at his own projection and said under his breath, "There are this many?"
The staff member there answered calmly, "More than this. These are only the first-year accessible models."
That was enough to quiet him immediately.
Arin returned his attention to his own screen.
Each core type carried a brief description beneath it.
Standard cores were balanced and stable.
Flow types emphasized smoother circulation and efficiency.
Fortress models reinforced durability and resistance.
Precision cores favored control, regulation accuracy, and weapon-linked techniques.
Recovery models reduced long-term strain and improved healing support.
The differences were not small.
What the academy offered was not simply one beginner core. It was several different starting paths.
That also meant a poor choice early on could shape a person's future far more than expected.
"Starter support access does not mean full replacement rights," the staff member said. "Your current stabilized semi-core allows regulated cultivation entry. More advanced artificial core integration, replacement, or upgrade requires later qualification, point expenditure, and medical clearance. You may review all support models through your student terminal."
Arin gave a slight nod.
That part was reasonable.
For now, he had no intention of making any rash decisions anyway.
The next section showed the manual options. They were still limited, but even the short descriptions made it clear that academy material was deeper than what could be found in ordinary public records. After a brief look, Arin selected a balanced beginner cultivation manual and then moved to the weapon registry.
That part held his attention a little longer.
Blades. Short spears. Batons. Staff variants. Sidearm-assisted weapons. Hybrid models.
When his eyes settled on the swordgun option, he stopped.
The listed weapon was designed as a close-combat blade with a short-range energy discharge function built into the weapon itself. It required better control than standard melee choices and had stricter maintenance requirements, but it offered both immediate adaptability and flexible use at short and mid-range.
"Uncommon first selection," the staff member said when she saw what he was reading.
Arin looked at her. "Too difficult?"
"Not necessarily," she replied. "Just more demanding. Precision-oriented students choose it more often than others."
That was enough.
"I'll take it."
The registration was completed a moment later.
The starter medicine pack came next. Basic recovery medicine. Minor healing support. Low-grade energy restoration capsules. Not impressive, but useful enough for a student who had just entered.
He also received an academy uniform set and basic residential access permissions. By the time he closed the final selection panel, he understood one thing more clearly.
Sixteen hundred points was not much.
He had only glanced through the broader exchange catalog, but that had already been enough. Better manuals, stronger medicine, training chamber access, specialized techniques, advanced core support, and internal equipment upgrades all cost far more than a first look suggested.
The academy gave opportunities.
It did not give comfort.
That realization only became clearer once he left the registration wing and followed the student route deeper into the grounds.
Sector Seven Preparatory Academy was not as grand as Astra Vale Academy from the public images he had seen before, but it was still far from small. The inner grounds spread wider than expected, divided into distinct sections with clear routes between them. Practice courtyards lay open under reinforced barrier frames. A tall rectangular building marked the manual archive. Another, broader structure served as the exchange hall. Farther ahead stood the mission wing, the medical recovery center, and the student dormitory sector.
Students moved through the paths in groups or alone, some in fresh uniforms like his, some clearly older. There was noise here, but it was the noise of routine rather than chaos.
He slowed briefly near one of the large public boards.
First-year regulations scrolled across it in rotating lines.
Mandatory yearly mission requirement: one minimum.
Authorized leave allocation: three months per year.
Point debt beyond approved limit may restrict resource access.
Private violence outside sanctioned arenas is punishable.
Dormitory access is assigned by student rank and enrollment class.
Arin read through the lines once and moved on.
By the time he reached the residential sector, the light had already shifted toward late afternoon.
The dormitory building assigned to his group was tall, plain, and efficient in appearance. Not luxurious, but clean and well maintained. Internal access recognized his band and opened the main doors immediately. A quiet guidance line led him through the first floor, then up by lift to his assigned level.
Room 4-17.
The door opened with a soft click.
The room inside was simple but better than he had expected. Two beds, two desks, two storage cabinets, a narrow washroom, and a broad window set into the far wall. The space was not large, but it was organized well enough that it did not feel cramped.
One side was already occupied.
A bag sat beside the left bed. A folded uniform had been placed neatly on the chair. A few issued items rested on the desk in careful order, and the person standing near the window turned when Arin entered.
He looked around Arin's age, perhaps slightly older. His build was lean rather than broad, and his expression carried a relaxed kind of alertness that did not quite match the easy posture he wore.
His eyes moved first to Arin's fresh uniform, then to the registration band on his wrist.
"So you're the other one," he said.
Arin stepped inside and let the door close behind him. "Seems so."
The boy gave a small nod. "Cael Dorn."
"Arin Solis."
Cael repeated the name once as if storing it away, then glanced at the issued pack Arin was carrying.
"First-day processing finished?" he asked.
"Just now."
"Good. Do it late and the lines get worse."
Arin set his things down on the empty side of the room. "You've been here longer?"
"Only a few hours. My registration group finished earlier." Cael leaned lightly against the window frame. "You're one of the later trial teams."
Arin gave a slight nod.
Cael looked at him a little more carefully this time. "You were in the forest trial?"
"Yes."
"How bad was it?"
"Bad enough."
That answer seemed to amuse him faintly.
"Fair," Cael said. "Most people coming in from the first batch looked half dead. One guy on this floor spent ten minutes arguing with the dorm system because he thought a bloodstain on his sleeve would lower his room quality."
Arin almost smiled, but not quite.
Cael noticed anyway.
Then his gaze shifted again to Arin's wrist band, and this time his eyes paused for a brief second.
"Priority first-selection mark," he said. "Top group?"
Arin looked at him. "You can tell?"
"The band display still reflects it for a few hours if you haven't hidden the setting." Cael tilted his head slightly. "Top three?"
Arin did not answer immediately.
Cael's expression stayed calm. "That means yes."
He let out a soft breath through his nose, not impressed exactly, but no longer casual either.
"You don't look like someone who enjoys group trials," he said.
"I didn't."
"That sounds more believable."
The room settled into a brief silence after that.
Cael was not loud. That was useful. But he was observant enough to notice details quickly, which made him harder to dismiss as just another dorm mate.
After unpacking a few of his issued items, Arin finally asked, "Do you know much about this place?"
Cael gave a small shrug. "Enough to avoid looking stupid on the first day. My older sister studied here before transferring out."
That explained some of it.
"What matters most?" Arin asked.
Cael answered immediately. "Points."
Arin looked at him.
Cael straightened from the window and crossed the short space toward his own desk. "Everyone comes in thinking the academy starter package is generous. Then they open the exchange system properly and realize everything useful costs more than expected."
That matched what Arin had already seen.
Cael continued, "Classes matter. Rankings matter. Teacher evaluations matter. But if your point balance dries up, everything gets worse. Training chambers, medicine access, manual upgrades, mission flexibility, equipment maintenance—none of it stays easy without points."
He opened his terminal band and projected a small screen into the air between them.
The exchange list appeared briefly.
Even after what he had seen earlier, Arin's eyes still paused slightly.
Intermediate manuals. Specialized weapon modules. Enhanced body tempering packs. Advanced training sessions. Core regulation assistance. The prices climbed fast.
Cael closed the projection again.
"Exactly," he said.
Arin let out a quiet breath.
Sixteen hundred had sounded substantial when he first saw it.
Now it looked more like breathing room.
Nothing more.
Cael watched his reaction and gave the faintest trace of a smile. "That was my face too."
"Good to know."
Cael sat down on the edge of his bed. "Orientation starts tomorrow morning. They'll explain class divisions, training schedules, point systems, and mission requirements in more detail. After that, everything depends on how fast you understand where to spend and where not to."
Arin thought briefly of the different core types again.
The academy was broader than he had expected.
Not just harder.
More layered.
Public knowledge had only shown the outline. Inside the system, every part of the path divided further—cores, manuals, weapons, rankings, resources. Each choice seemed to open one road while quietly narrowing another.
He moved to the window and looked outside.
From the dormitory level, he could see part of the academy grounds below. Paths crossed between lit buildings. Students moved in small groups. A training frame in the distance still held a few figures practicing under the fading light.
This was only a preparatory academy.
Even so, it already felt like a place where people could be left behind very easily.
Behind him, Cael's voice came again.
"One warning."
Arin turned slightly.
Cael rested his arms loosely over one knee and said, "Inside this place, running out of points feels worse than failing a class."
Arin looked at him for a second, then gave a small nod.
That sounded believable.
Night settled slowly over Sector Seven Preparatory Academy. Inside Room 4-17, Arin finished arranging the few things that were now his and sat down at the desk near the bed. When he opened the academy interface again, the projected menus lit the dimming room in pale blue.
Student profile.
Point balance.
Manual access.
Weapon registration.
Training allocation.
Core support information.
His gaze stopped there for a moment.
Core support information.
Then it shifted upward.
Current balance: 1600 Academy Points.
A beginning, he thought.
Not more than that.
Tomorrow, the academy would properly open in front of him. And once it did, standing still would no longer be enough.