Kaizer circulated energon through his body and activated his frequency sense.
A sharp laser arrow shot from the towering drawer, aimed straight at his chest. He sidestepped casually, already predicting where it would land. The arrow struck the floor and vanished.
This was the trial.
He had to dodge every incoming arrow while moving toward the towering drawer. Even the slightest touch would mean immediate elimination. If that happened, he would be forced to choose a single manual on the spot—or worse, if he failed to grab anything before being hit, he would be sent out empty-handed.
There were no second chances.
He was allowed to take only one manual. The moment he picked it up, the trial would end. What he chose depended entirely on his own judgment.
His frequency sense now scanned everything within ten meters. Nothing escaped it—not even micro-level organisms.
The floor shifted every ten centimeters, and with each move, another arrow shot out. Even the drawer's hollow compartments rotated, shuffling manuals like a cruel puzzle.
Kaizer's footwork picked up. His movements and senses synced perfectly, leaving no blind spots—but he was sweating, and his legs were starting to ache.
The floating platform reached the middle of the first layer. He was already dodging twelve arrows.
Where is that manual? He thought, anxiety prickling at the edge of his mind.
Sweat dripped into Kaizer's eyes, blurring his vision. His energon was draining rapidly; maintaining both high-speed footwork and his frequency sense at once was taking a brutal toll. Every breath felt heavier than the last.
He was currently using the most basic footwork technique—something everyone learned—but he was pushing it to extreme intensity.
It wasn't that Kaizer didn't want to use Nightfall Ghost Steps. He knew its power better than anyone. But if he activated that technique while keeping his frequency sense fully open, he wouldn't last more than ten minutes. His energon pool simply couldn't support it.
So he chose restraint.
He relied on fundamentals alone, squeezing every bit of efficiency out of simple movements, trusting his control rather than explosive techniques.
Other students noticed the platform rising.
"What is that?" someone whispered, pointing.
"That student is reckless," another muttered. Reckless? More like insane.
Most students only tried the gamble after reaching higher layers of the Sacred Vault Hall. The academy allowed new students to pick their first two techniques for free, reducing the gap between students from different backgrounds. Because of this, most avoided the once-in-a-lifetime gamble—it was far too risky.
If you lost your two free techniques here and gained nothing in return, you would be left with nothing to compete with. In the academy, your starting point mattered more than anything else.
That was why most students only attempted the gamble after reaching their personal limits within the academy—and only after accumulating enough merit points to buy at least two high-level techniques from the first layer as insurance.
The gamble itself could begin from any of the nine layers of the Sacred Vault Hall. The higher the layer, the more precious and advanced the manual stored there—but the cost in merit points rose just as sharply. The first layer contained only crude and advanced manuals, while the upper layers held far rarer and more powerful ones.
The danger, however, was the same on every layer.
The intensity of the trial—the laser arrows, the pressure, the endurance test—never changed. That was the advantage of gambling in the higher layer. Every manual in the drawers was unique. The academy never made copies. Once taken, it belonged solely to the student and could be passed down to others.
The academy had long planned this system carefully. They didn't want students gambling recklessly during their early years. Instead, they wanted them to take this risk when they were about to leave for the military—so that even if they failed to rise further, they would still possess something truly their own, something they could rely on… or pass down to the next generation.
Kaizer's chest tightened as he scanned his surroundings.
He hadn't yet seen what he was looking for.
I can only keep this up for ten minutes, he thought, teeth gritted, as another volley of arrows zipped past. Just a little more… I've come too far. If I miss this chance, it's over.
As he reached the second layer, thirty arrows rained down. His legs trembled—at any moment, they could give out. He had trained hard, but even a strong will couldn't entirely erase human limits.
Then his eyes lit up.
Instinct took over. His legs adjusted, closing the gap between him and the tower. The hollow drawer rotated, but he leapt, snatching the manual and pressing it to his chest as he crouched and arched backward.
Seventy laser arrows struck, hitting mostly his back. A sharp groan escaped him. None was lethal, but each sent a jolt of pain to his brain.
"Student No. 501, eliminated. One-time gamble completed," the robotic voice announced.
Kaizer lifted his head, smiling despite the pain. Dust covered the manual, but the title glimmered:
Frequency Adaptation Manual.
He tried to stand, but his legs buckled. Collapsing to the floor, he laughed softly. Pain radiated through his muscles, but satisfaction outweighed it. Some students glanced at the manual, curious—but Kaizer didn't hide it.
He didn't bother hiding it; there was no point.
Sooner or later, everyone would know.
And when they did—
Some would come out of curiosity.
Some out of greed.
Some out of fear.
Ten minutes later, he carefully placed the manual into his backpack and walked slowly out of the Sacred Vault Hall, every step heavy but steady.
At the back of the academy's main building, twenty fifty-story buildings loomed. The lower five floors were cylindrical; above them, rectangular blocks stretched skyward. From above, they looked identical.
Kaizer found building one. A 3D hologram showed room layouts. His room was on the third floor. No lift? Fine. He climbed the stairs alongside other students.
Some grumbled. "Lucky I'm on the second floor. Imagine the top floor!" Others laughed. Some sneered silently. Kaizer didn't care.
On the third floor, he noticed a student next door.
"Hello, I'm Soren. You must be my neighbor."
"I'm Kaizer," he replied.
Soren chuckled. "My neighbor—let's hit the cafeteria for lunch at 9pm."
Kaizer nodded and entered his room, pressing the access key.
It was small but comfortable: a bed, a desk and chair, a sofa, and a bathroom—about fifteen square meters. He dropped his backpack and collapsed onto the sofa, muscles screaming.
After an hour, he finally breathed normally again. He unpacked clothes and necessities, placing the Frequency Adaptation Manual carefully on the table.
Washing his face, he opened the window. Greenery stretched outside; boundary wires were barely visible. He inhaled, savoring the quiet.
This room isn't bad at all, he thought, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Returning to the sofa, he picked up the manual, tension returning to his eyes.
In the past, Kaizer had worked as a guard at an old civilization's heritage site. The Earth Federation had collected many artifacts, manual and treasures from there, along with records of the ancient civilization. Kaizer had only caught glimpses of these items and picked up bits of information from the archaeologists. He never asked too many questions—he wasn't allowed to study the artifacts closely, and he couldn't risk drawing suspicion.
He had tried to use his frequency sense to study them, but it was of no use. The site was filled with many frequency waves, so without having enough energon to support his frequency sense, he missed many chances.
By coincidence, he had heard archaeologists talking about manual and drying up his energon, and he managed to read a few sentences: that every frequency could be canceled or redistributed.
He had to keep his frequency-sense abilities hidden. In the past, exposure had brought him nothing but trouble, and he didn't want the higher-ups to suspect anything unusual. All he had heard was that some of these treasures were being sent to the Astra Federation Academy's Sacred Vault Hall. Their value had been assessed between crude and advanced, so it was placed in the first or second layer in the towering drawer.
Over time, Kaizer had carefully schemed and followed orders from above, all to gain favor and achieve his goal: entering the academy. First, he needed to obtain this manual. Then, with it in hand, he could access resources easily—without having to question anyone or report anything to higher authorities.
Kaizer flipped through the manual.
'Don't disappoint me. I don't have much time, at most five years.'
After reading each line with extreme care. Even after finishing a page, he went back over it, afraid to miss a single detail.
Two hours later, Kaizer set the manual down, a faint frown on his face. The book contained only one technique: Acoustic Levitation. It allowed the practitioner to lift objects but required bio-genes capable of producing frequency.
These bio-genes weren't ordinary. While human evolvers could learn techniques step by step, gradually becoming proficient, bio-genes offered instant mastery. They could directly merge with a human, granting the user immediate skill, making them highly coveted but incredibly difficult to obtain.
They were painstakingly extracted from mystical beasts, creatures that could manipulate natural elements and often possessed extraordinary abilities. Turning a beast's genes into usable bio-genes for humans was no simple task.
Each beast's genes carried fragments of its memories, emotions, and will. The more furious or vengeful the beast had been in life, the harder it was to extract its genes. There was a narrow window for retrieval: the core genes near the heart had to be removed within ten minutes of death, or they would perish with the beast.
Some of the humans with stronger genomes could bypass these challenges entirely, merging directly with a mystical beast's core genes—but only if their own genome was strong enough to resist the beast's will. To do this, they often had to hunt the beast themselves and kill it in the most terrifying way possible. The fear left in the beast's final moments would then be used to conquer its will, and this also had an advantage; the conqueror could gain most of the beast's abilities.
Most mystical beasts followed a strict power hierarchy. A lower-level beast would naturally avoid crossing paths with a higher-level one—knowledge that any skilled hunter had to respect.
Kaizer sighed, running a hand over his face. The rest of the manual was dense with research—pages upon pages on attaching, detaching, and canceling frequency waves. Yet, despite the complexity, a faint glimmer of direction emerged. At last, he had some idea of how to tackle his problem.