Arin opened the terminal again after finishing his morning training. His routine had already begun to settle, but before continuing further, he needed clarity on what came next.
He searched through the city education network and reviewed the academy records one by one.
The structure was simple.
Every city had a primary academy that stood above the rest. It held stronger instructors, better cultivation methods, and deeper support from the System Union. In Astra Vale City, that place was Astra Vale Academy.
Below it were preparatory academies and smaller institutes. Their standards were lower and their resources limited, but they still provided a path forward.
Arin opened Astra Vale Academy first and read through the admission conditions carefully. The regular intake had already passed, and the next examination cycle would only open after two months. There was an earlier selection, but it was restricted to those already within the system.
He read it again to confirm.
Nothing changed.
Two months.
Arin leaned back slightly.
Rushing into a weaker path now would only limit his future. His body had only just stabilized, and his understanding of cultivation was still shallow.
Time was not a loss.
It was preparation.
He checked several preparatory academies afterward. Most offered only basic training, but a few maintained acceptable standards.
Sector Seven Preparatory Academy appeared among them.
The requirements were clear and within reach. Identity verification, medical records, core condition proof, and entry fees. Nothing there was beyond him.
Still, he did not decide immediately.
He closed the terminal.
For now, he would prepare.
The next week passed quietly.
His training remained simple but consistent. Morning sessions focused on posture and stability, while evenings were used for repetition and controlled movement. The weakness that once defined his body no longer returned, but strength came slowly.
Each improvement was small.
But steady.
Alongside training, he continued learning.
Public knowledge, cultivation basics, and fragments of restricted information filled in the gaps left by memory. Some parts were clear, while others remained incomplete, as if deliberately limited.
Even so, it was enough.
On the seventh day, as he finished his routine, the terminal vibrated.
A call request appeared.
Ren Talvik.
Arin accepted.
The projection formed, revealing a familiar face. Ren leaned slightly closer to the display, his expression casual as always, but his eyes carried a trace of concern.
"I heard about your parents," he said. "I couldn't reach you earlier."
"It's fine," Arin replied.
Ren studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod.
"You look better," he said. "At least you're not collapsing anymore."
There was a faint attempt at humor in his tone, but it did not hide the fact that he had been worried.
Ren had always been like this.
Casual on the surface, but dependable when it mattered.
Back in school, the class had been divided in ways no one needed to explain. Those from prominent families formed one side. Those from ordinary backgrounds formed the other. Out of twenty students, eight belonged to influential families, while the remaining twelve had gathered together more out of circumstance than choice.
Ren had stood among them.
His own background had not been strong at the beginning. But six years ago, his grandfather had been promoted within the System Union, reaching G2 rank. Since then, his family's situation had improved steadily.
Even so, Ren had never distanced himself.
When Arin's condition had worsened, when money had run short and pressure had built, Ren had been one of the few who helped without making it obvious. Small amounts of support, stepping in during conflicts, and once even standing against a group that had tried to push things too far.
He had never made it a big deal.
"How are you holding up now?" Ren asked.
"Better."
Ren exhaled lightly. "Good. I thought you'd lock yourself inside for a month."
He paused, then added, "We're meeting in two days. Same place. Everyone's coming."
Arin already knew what that meant.
The group.
"Don't skip," Ren said. "You've disappeared long enough."
There was no pressure.
Just expectation.
"I'll come," Arin replied.
The call ended soon after.
Two days later, Arin headed toward the meeting place.
It was a small food street built into a residential block, simple but familiar. Rows of stalls lined the path, with scattered seating areas filled by people talking quietly.
When he arrived, most of the group was already there.
Twelve people.
The same group that had once formed in the corner of a divided classroom.
Ren waved as soon as he saw him and pulled him toward the table.
"Finally," he said. "You look like a normal person again."
The conversation began naturally.
Food was ordered, and the atmosphere remained relaxed, but beneath it, changes were already visible.
"Five of us already joined academies," one of them said.
"Four in preparatory," another added.
"And one went straight to Astra Vale Academy."
That person sat slightly apart, not distant, but clearly placed at the center of attention.
Leron Vale.
He had always been the leading figure among them. Not because of arrogance, but because of ability. His background was stronger, his results better, and his progress faster than the rest.
Arin recognized him immediately.
"Not surprising," Ren said lightly. "He was always ahead."
The conversation shifted again.
"Four already took serum injections," someone else added. "Didn't wait."
"That's safer," another replied. "Not everyone can take the core path."
Arin listened quietly.
Among the remaining few, three had not yet chosen.
Himself.
Ren.
And another.
A girl sat across from them, calm and composed.
Lyra Sen.
Her presence was quieter than the others, but it drew attention naturally. She had already formed her core at eleven, far earlier than most, and her family's expectations rested heavily on her.
Her older brother had entered a preparatory academy two years ago but had not progressed further.
So now—
everything rested on her.
Ren glanced toward her briefly, then looked away as if nothing had happened.
Arin noticed.
"…You're still trying?" Arin asked quietly.
Ren smirked faintly. "Trying is free."
Arin let out a small breath.
Love at eleven.
In his previous life, at that age, he had barely understood anything.
The conversation continued.
Everyone was moving forward.
At different speeds.
Through different methods.
But forward.
"You?" Ren asked eventually.
"I'll join," Arin said. "Not yet."
Ren nodded. "Makes sense."
Then, as the group began to settle, he added casually,
"There are other ways too. If you want faster progress."
Arin's gaze shifted slightly.
"Nothing official," Ren continued. "Just… options."
Arin understood.
"I'll think about it," he said.
The gathering ended not long after.
Arin returned home
But something had changed.
This time, he was not alone in moving forward.
And this time—
he would not fall behind.