(Leo’s POV – Rodova Military Academy, Training Hall C-2, Early Morning)
Leo barely had any time to settle into his new routine before the first day of training hit him like a freight train.
The academy operated on a brutal schedule, and the dorm alarms blared at exactly 4:30 AM, signaling the start of the day with zero mercy.
Leo had barely managed to drag himself out of bed, throw on his training uniform, and make his way outside before being herded toward Training Hall C-2, where the first class of every morning—Physical Fitness & Training—was held.
Now, standing in the massive hall, he observed the ruthlessly efficient setup.
The space was vast, with rows of heavy-duty training equipment, climbing ropes, weighted dummies, and obstacle courses that looked like they belonged in a military boot camp rather than an academy.
The walls were lined with racks of weighted vests, stacks of iron plates, and resistance bands that looked like they were meant for dragons, not humans.
A few students muttered as they took in the setup.
"Are we training or getting sent to war?"
"I heard the instructor is brutal."
"Yeah, Professor Marvin, right? The guy’s ex-military. Used to train actual soldiers before he came here."
Leo ignored the chatter, his eyes scanning the students around him.
Some looked sleepy. Others looked pumped. And then there were the rare few—like Su Yang—who stood there utterly unfazed, as if this was just another morning routine.
’So this is the Elite Class’ Leo thought, as looking around, he could see how everyone around him looked exceptional in one way or another.
Everyone carried themself with an air of dignity.
Nobody made unnecessary gestures or trouble, and mostly everyone was courteous and reserved.
About 90% of the crowd was high born, while the remaining few were too shy to make eye contact with others.
’What a boring class—’ Leo thought, rolling his shoulders, as he felt the slight soreness in his joint because of his encounter with Su Yang yesterday.
Then—
SLAM!
The heavy steel doors at the front of the hall burst open, and a man who looked like he had been carved from stone stepped inside.
’Is that Professor Marvin?’ Leo wondered, as the man walked closer.
The man was a towering wall of muscle, his sleeveless training uniform revealing thick, battle-worn arms covered in scars.
His expression was one of pure, unfiltered authority, and the sheer weight of his presence made the room feel smaller.
The students immediately straightened when the man’s gaze swept over them, as nobody seemed to be wanting to mess with him.
Then, in a deep, no-nonsense voice, he spoke—
"Welcome to Physical Fitness & Training. I’m Marvin Gallows, but you will call me Professor Marvin."
His tone held no warmth. No welcome. Just raw, military discipline.
"I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what clan you’re from. I don’t care if you’re a Monarch-level talent or some gutter rat who barely crawled their way into the Elite class."
He folded his arms, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"In this hall, you are all the same."
He said, as he narrowed his eyes on Su Yang.
"I don’t care how strong you think you are. If you can’t outrun, outlast, and overpower the enemy, you’re already dead."
A few students shifted uncomfortably.
Marvin’s lips curled slightly as if he could smell their doubt.
"Most of you have never felt what it means to be truly exhausted. To have every ounce of strength drained from your body, yet still be expected to keep going, which is why most of you don’t understand the importance of physical training and conditioning–"
He said, as his voice softened just a tad bit.
"I’ll tell you this just once, so listen carefully— "
"If you’re an assassin, you will face situations where you must cross a vast distance in a matter of seconds. Whether it’s closing in on a target before they escape or outrunning an entire battalion of pursuers, your ability to move will determine whether you live or die."
His icy gaze swept over the nervous students.
"The day your legs give out before your will to survive does—you die."
A tense hush fell over the training hall.
Marvin’s voice lowered slightly, but the weight of his words only grew heavier.
"If you’re a swordsman, picture this—your unit is laying siege on a fortress perched atop a hill. The only opening is a narrow, five-minute window at dawn, when the night patrols rotate out, and the morning fog is at its thickest.
He paused, letting the image sink in.
"In that brief moment, you must scale the cliffside, breach the walls, and eliminate the gate sentries— all before the changing guards notice something is wrong."
His piercing stare hardened.
"But what if you’re too slow? What if you’re not strong enough to carry your gear up that hill? What if your endurance fails before you reach the top?"
A suffocating silence.
"Then you die. And with you—your entire unit dies."
Marvin let the words hang, allowing them to settle into the bones of every student present.
Then, his gaze shifted.
"And archers…"
Some students instinctively straightened.
Marvin’s lips curled slightly.
"You think distance keeps you safe? That standing on a vantage point means you’re untouchable?"
He snorted.
"Let me tell you how an archer dies."
He raised a hand, mimicking the pull of a bowstring.
"You’ve climbed a high perch—a ridge, a tower, a tree. You take position, your arrows nocked, and your sight is locked onto the battlefield below."
Marvin snapped his fingers.
"The first few shots fly true. Your enemies fall. You think of yourself as a hunter above the chaos."
Then—his expression darkened.
"But then—they find you."
He took a slow step forward.
"They scale the ridge. They breach the tower. They set the forest alight beneath your perch."
Marvin’s voice dropped to a cold whisper.
"You reach for another arrow—but your fingers are trembling. Your breath is ragged. Your arms are too weak to draw the bowstring again, because after hours of battle, you’re exhausted."
Another pause.
"And the moment you hesitate—you die."
His words struck like hammer blows.
"The difference between a sniper and a corpse? Stamina. Strength. The ability to keep shooting when the body screams to stop."
His eyes swept over the room, landing on each student, branding his lesson into them.
"No matter your profession—if your body fails you before the battle is over, then you were never fit to fight in the first place."
A heavy silence followed.
Marvin exhaled, rolling his shoulders.
"This is why we train."
Then, his voice snapped back to full command mode.
"Now—prepare for training, and remember, if you don’t train till you feel like you will die, someday you will die for real."
"Today, we start with something light. We start with 25Kg weighted vest runs, followed by simple exercise runs.
Grab a vest and get in line—" Marvin instructed, as no-one hesitated for even a second longer.
Everyone swarmed to pick up a vest, however, when it was Leo’s turn to pick up a vest, Marvin suddenly interrupted.
"Not you Skyshard, you, Su Yang, Mu Shen, the three of you are at the top of the rankings, so you will start with a 40kg vest.
Since the three of you want to parade as the best, you must also behave like the best" Professor Marvin said, as Leo looked at him in confusion?
Why did he already know his name?
And since when did he parade like the best?
What nonsense was this?