The Training Hall was vast, spacious enough to hold thousands. Its polished floor gleamed under the cold lights, and the air buzzed faintly with mana.
Across the hall, summoners gathered in clusters. Their uniforms and aura suggested clear divisions through summomer rank-based, most likely.
"Hey, newbie! You, come here!"
A commanding voice rang out.
Igaris turned toward its source. It was the silver-armored woman from earlier—Marina, if he recalled correctly.
Without a word, he walked forward, stopping beside her. Before him stood dozens of unfamiliar faces, all watching with thinly veiled curiosity.
"This is Igaris, a new recruit, just like the rest of you," Marina introduced him briskly.
Voices erupted from the back row.
"Wait... that is him, right?"
"How did he make it here too?"
The murmurs spread like wildfire, faces twisting in disbelief and suspicion.
Igaris narrowed his eyes slightly but didn’t speak. His gaze swept across the group, pausing as he recognized a few familiar faces from Blaze’s hunting team.
Osama. Nagi. Barefoot.
Shock flickered across their faces—mirrored by his own.
"What are they doing here?’" he thought. "Weren’t they supposed to be with Blaze in the Forsaken Land?"
Before he could dwell on it, Instructor Marina raised her hand, silencing the murmurs around them.
"You all know him?" she asked, her eyes sharp.
One of the men stepped forward. It was Osama, the bald hunter.
"Yes, Instructor," he said, his tone flat but edged with something harsher. "We used to hunt together... back in the Forsaken zone. For survival."
He glanced at Igaris, then added pointedly, "But he was really weak. He could barely hold his own. And one day, he vanished without a word."
The emphasis on weak wasn’t subtle. It was a deliberate jab, a quiet accusation questioning Igaris’ right to be here.
Osama turned back to Marina, continuing, "That’s why we’re surprised to see him here. Are you sure the Freedom Force didn’t make a mistake in recruiting him? As far as I know, he never showed any summoning potential. I think you should reconsider—"
"That’s enough," Marina cut him off sharply, raising a hand again.
The irritation in her gaze was unmistakable, .
"I decide who stays or goes," she said flatly. "Not you."
Osama clenched his jaw but said nothing more, stepping back into the crowd.
Marina turned to Igaris, and said:
"You’ve great Talent. That’s all what Leon said to me. But I know nothing about you.
At least, you have history with hunting.
That means you understand what survival takes. Let’s see how you fare against them. Only then we can give you a proper rank through the valuation."
Igaris nodded, finding no problem.
But Osama, and others from Blaze’s group was stunned by the words coming straight from the Instructor’s mouth.
"Igor has great Talent? He isn’t in the same level as us?"
"They must be lying right?"
Osama and few others whispered among themselves.
Just then Marina faced the group once more. "This is the Freedom Force. You don’t get to question our recruits just because they didn’t impress you in the past."
Her words hung in the air, firm and final.
Igaris didn’t react outwardly, but inside, he was chuckling.
He clenched his fists loosely by his sides, resisting the urge to smirk.
They hadn’t seen anything yet.
"First of all," Marina began, her voice firm but composed, "I must give you a few basic details about Summoner Arts, Contracts, and Magical Beasts."
As she spoke, she raised her hand. A burst of energy surged through the hall as a majestic beast materialized beside her—an enormous Thunder Horse. Its entire body crackled with destructive lightning, sparks dancing across its iron-like hide. The sheer power emanating from it made the air heavy.
Gasps echoed from the crowd. Even Igaris couldn’t hide a flicker of awe. The Thunder Horse was similar in size to his Wind Griffin, but its presence—its raw, violent energy—was something else entirely.
"This is a contracted beast. It lives in my Spirit Core, connected to me through a Summoner’s Pact."
She walked in front of the beast, folding her arms behind her back.
"To become a Summoner, there are three things you must have."
She raised a single finger.
"First, a brave heart. If you lack the courage to face danger head-on, then turn back now."
"Second, affinity. Not every person can bond with magical beasts. Some of you may naturally attract certain elements—wind, fire, lightning, shadow, and so on. Without affinity, no creature will acknowledge you."
"And third, the Summoner’s Art. This is the spell technique that allows you to initiate a contract ritual and form a lasting bond with a magical beast. Without it, your affinity is meaningless."
She lowered her hand, letting the silence settle among the recruits.
"Meeting these three conditions is not easy," she said. "Many try. Most fail."
The group remained quiet, the weight of her words settling heavily in their chests.
"But," she added, her gaze sweeping over them, "Each of you has been chosen from across the Forsaken lands because you’ve shown signs of potential. Whether it was surviving the wilderness, resonating with magical energy, or displaying the spark of willpower—we saw enough to bring you here."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, mixed with curiosity and pride.
Marina continued, "The Freedom Force will provide you with the necessary Summoner Arts. You’ll be trained. Tested. Given chances to contract your first beast. But all of it comes with one condition."
"You do not betray the Freedom Force. You do not back away from our goal."
She raised her hand, pointing toward the high wall where the emblem of the Freedom Force was engraved—an open fist holding a shattered chain.
"Our mission is to reclaim our dignity, our rights, and our future from the tyranny of the Perfect Society. If you stand with us, you will be trained as one of our own. If you waver, then leave now, while you still can."
No one moved. Every recruit, including Igaris, stood still. Silent.
Marina gave a slight nod, satisfied.
"Good. Then let the training begin."