To the public, Gurukul was said to be nestled somewhere in the Himalayas. But in truth, almost no one knew its real location—and even fewer had ever set foot inside. Its exact position was a closely guarded secret, unknown to the kingdoms themselves.
The handful of people who worked within its walls never spoke a word of what happened there. Its history—who founded it, why it existed—was lost to rumor. All the world knew was this:
Every year, Gurukul forged monsters. Not beasts, but humans—warriors so deadly that their very presence shifted the balance of power in the world.
It was the most prestigious institution for elemental training and chakra mastery anywhere on the continent.
Gurukul was a neutral faction. It did not side with Dharma nor the Immortal Kingdom, yet it accepted students from both. A sacred pact between the kingdoms forbade them from interfering with the school. All political rivalries, all wars, were to remain outside its gates.
In theory, at least.
In reality, fights between students—sometimes brutal—were common. Everyone knew it, but no one spoke of it. The principal turned a blind eye unless things escalated too far—meaning a permanent injury or death. There were old stories, whispered like ghost tales, of a student who had killed another during a duel. The killer had been banished, his chakras shattered so he could never fight again. His family was fined so heavily they fell into ruin.
The kingdoms had said nothing in protest. In fact, they seemed to support such punishments. Discipline inside Gurukul was absolute.
Ten minutes after the convoy officer announced they were approaching, Om and the other students stepped down from the armored vehicles.
The first thing they saw in the distance was a gate—massive and ancient, easily as tall as a five-story building.
The air around it shimmered faintly, as if reality itself bent in its presence.
Dozens of similar convoys were arriving from other directions, unloading their own students.
Officer Nurp, the man who had escorted Om and Rudra, stepped forward and bellowed:
"ALL STUDENTS—FORM LINES OF THREE!"
The shout was infused with chakra, the sound vibrating in their chests like a struck drum. Many flinched, startled by the force in his voice. But they obeyed quickly, arranging themselves into orderly ranks.
When the last line settled, Nurp's tone dropped to normal volume.
"Right now, we are standing in the outskirts of Gurukul—what we call the Gurukul Forest. From this point forward, there will be no vehicles. All of you will travel to the main campus on foot."
A ripple of confusion passed through the crowd.
Nurp continued, his voice steady.
"From here, it is one full day's journey to the school. Tonight, you will camp in tents we have prepared. At dawn, you begin the trek. The journey takes around ten hours with breaks, though most will need closer to twelve. Arrive before the sixteen-hour mark if you wish to avoid… unpleasant consequences."
His words made several students shift uneasily.
One from the second row raised a hand. Nurp gestured for him to speak.
"Sir, why not just take us directly to Gurukul? Why travel on foot?"
Nurp's lips twitched in something almost like a smile.
"Because you are the elite of the elite. And in Gurukul, we reward excellence. That reward system runs on points. Inside the campus, cash and cards are useless. Points are everything—you'll need them for food, weapons, armor, clothes, body arts, chakra arts… even a bed to sleep in."
Murmurs erupted among the students. The implications sank in. Their family wealth would mean nothing here.
"You will each start with one hundred points. There are many ways to earn more… and many ways to lose them."
Another student raised a hand. "You mentioned rewards earlier—are they points?"
Nurp nodded.
"Yes. Four categories of results for this journey. The first nine students to arrive will earn the highest rewards: First place gets 1,000 points, second 900, and so on down to ninth with 200 points. The second category—those who finish within twelve hours but after the top nine—will get 100 points. Third category, those who finish within sixteen hours, will get 50 points. The fourth category—those who fail to finish in time—earn nothing."
A heavy silence fell.
Nurp's eyes scanned the group.
"And before you ask—yes, there are… hazards. The forest is home to poisonous plants, dangerous animals, and traps. Some creatures here can use chakra."
Several faces went pale.
Nurp's mouth curled upward—not in comfort, but in faint sadism.
"Good. Fear will keep you alive. But understand this—your lives are not at risk. We will be watching at all times. The most dangerous beasts will ignore you if you keep moving. Still, the road will be… unpleasant. You will face pain. Exhaustion. And if you are careless, you will suffer for it."
The silence deepened. Some students shifted nervously; others—like Om—met Nurp's gaze without flinching.
The officer noticed and gave a small approving nod.
"That's the nerve I want to see. No more questions. Boys and girls will be in separate camps. Rest well tonight. Tomorrow… you start earning your place."
As the students began moving toward their tents, Arun appeared beside Om.
"Let's share a tent," he suggested.
Om nodded, following him. But as they walked, a strange sensation prickled the back of his neck.
He glanced toward a tree—and saw an eagle perched there, staring directly at him. Its eyes were sharp, almost… intelligent.
Then it blinked, and the strange feeling passed. Om shook his head and stepped into the tent.
Far away, at the highest peak of the Gurukul Forest, the wind howled through a dark mountain hollow.
From within, a deep, majestic voice rumbled—laced with restrained fury.
"Finally… he has come."