After the morning assembly where the announcement of the Vazrun Island Expedition was finally made, the students drifted back into routine. Morning classes resumed like always, the scholars of Class E returning to their classroom for a lecture on Voidspawn, the Void Creatures. Most of them had expected another dreary session of copied notes until an actual professor thundered into the class.
The man who entered was tall and bony, his black robes frayed at the hem. His eyes gleamed with a wild spark, and he carried a long wooden staff. His smile was feverish. “Have a seat, I’ll be in charge of your lecture today. I am Professor Drane Gork, and you may forget every dull record your scribes have handed you. So, you will hear it from my lips. The truth of the abyssal progeny—the Voidspawn, creations of the abyss beyond worlds.” He slammed his staff against the floor, the sound echoing through the chamber. The class sat straighter.
“Now,” he said, turning sharply, the mana-board already displaying as he inserted a certain scroll inside the device.
“I’ll talk about their classification!”
-Some formed of intelligence
-More Than 1 Unique Ability
-Possess unnatural power
-Can control lesser armies
-Only in Forbidden Regions
“Do not be deceived, this classification the Magus Association made is not for you scholars to feel clever and just for examination. No! It is for your survival. Survival!” His eyes darted around the room like a hawk searching prey. A nervous hand rose. “Professor, I have some questions. Why do the Voidspawn… vary in size, even if they are of the same rank?”
Professor Drane wheeled around, eyes blazing. “Ah! An excellent question. A student who thinks all the time! Hap~ Listen carefully. Their size is irrelevant. No, no. A Lesser-Rank beast can be larger than a house, while a Wretched-Rank may also be no bigger than your arm. Why? Because it is not the flesh that determines danger. It is their essence!”
He jabbed his staff against the desk in front, startling the poor scholar who had asked. “Essence governs the resonance of their mana. Do you understand?”
Another student raised her voice. “And what of Mana Resonance, Professor? You said they give it when killed. What… what is it, truly?”
Professor Drane froze, then grinned—teeth bared, almost feral. “Hah! I forgot that most of you lack foundation knowledge. Mana Resonance… ah, now we touch divinity. When a Voidspawn dies, its essence collapses violently into this world. For a brief moment, the abyss itself breathes upon you. That breath becomes power.”
“That is why hunters risk their lives. That is why empires fund expeditions to hunt them. Every Voidspawn is not only a threat… it is a treasure chest of the abyss as well.” His eyes gleamed like a mad priest preaching his gospel.
“And Voidshards? What about them, professor?” another scholar asked the obvious for clarification.
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Drane lifted the jagged shard on his staff, holding it high for all to see. “Look here! This… is Void made solid. A shard torn from their very marrow. Pure condensed mana, endlessly hungry, endlessly potent!”
“You could say an entire city has been lit for decades with but these shards. But we won't talk about that for today. I have something else to do. So, back to the ranks! Let me finish today's syllabus first!” He scrawled the word Lesser-Rank again and underlined it.
“Mindless beasts—sometimes, would come in droves, no more thinking than a rabid hound. Even so, don't you ever underestimate them. That is the cause of death for many green adventurers.” He spun suddenly. “Does anyone here think they could survive an encounter with one?”
No one answered. Drane smirked, pleased. “Good. Fear is wisdom! Even a Lesser-Rank is difficult to hunt for you lots! Well, maybe not to most veterans but to beginners adventurers or hunters, it's still a suicidal!”
He moved on to Wretched-Rank. “Now, for this category, you need to be more careful. They possess some form of intelligence. Not much, but enough to trick the arrogant. They possess unique abilities. Be it fire-spitting, flesh-melting acid, or illusions.” A boy raised his hand timidly. “Professor, how do we… know what ability it has before it kills someone?”
The professor leaned forward, eyes wide. “Hah? No. You don’t. Unless you remembered all types of Voidspawn exist in the data. But there are also some of them which haven't been recorded, especially from the Forbidden Region.” For origınal chapters go to 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭·𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦·𝘯𝘦𝘵
The boy swallowed hard.
Then, he moved to the Malice-Rank. “Okay, here begins the true nightmare. Multiple abilities and a greater cunning. They’re rare, but one Malice-Rank can slaughter a battalion if unprepared. I have seen it—oh yes, I have and survived!” The students shifted uncomfortably. Only Ruvian sat still, listening. His expression gave nothing away, but his mind churned with each word.
“Alright, that's all for today's classification. Only three will be the main focuses for your year syllabus. The rest you can learn on your own for additional knowledge.”
“Also, since your Vazrun Island Test has been announced. I suggest you to remember and learn the encyclopedia of them. My advice to you all during the test is to never ever take it lightly. Always be prepared. And the best way to be prepared is to learn more about them…” He stood there, staring at them, grin manic, eyes wild. For a second, he looked less like a professor and more like a zealot, a prophet of the Void.
And Class E… would not forget this lecture.
The lesson came and went smoothly.
Then the door opened. An academy assistant stepped inside, in their arms was a stack of envelopes, sealed and arranged with care. They moved between the rows, handing them out one by one, offering no explanation and expecting no response. When they reached him, Ruvian took his letter without saying anything. The wax seal pressed into the fold—Velthia’s emblem, clean and sharp, stamped into red.
Around him, scholars were already tearing theirs open with clumsy excitement, others stretching their necks to sneak glances at their neighbors’ pages. The rustle of parchment filled the room, scattered and overlapping like soft rainfall. Ruvian broke the seal with the edge of his thumb and unfolded the letter in a single smooth motion, letting his eyes run across the lines without missing a word.
The handwriting was strict and formal. Rules, regulations, assigned duties—nothing surprising, but nothing to ignore either.
His gaze moved down the list.
—Item Rules & Guidelines for Vazrun Isle Test—
Basic Rules for Allowed Items:
One backpack, standard size. No storage artifacts (no spatial rings, no inventory magic). Weapons must be academy-provided. Healing potions, stamina boosters, and energy recovery items: Max 6 per person. Magic scrolls, traps, and talismans are restricted.
He had expected this restriction.
Survival Kit – (Knife, Rope, Flint, Bandages… etc.)
Academy-Issued Compass
Lightweight Tents or Cloaks
Ruvian tapped a finger lightly against the parchment. The letter included a set of recommended supplies but the final decisions were left to the scholars themselves. It wasn’t a test of obedience but a test of insight. “The novel made that point very clear.”
The protagonist, back then, had understood what the real trial was. It had never been just about fighting Voidspawn. It was about attrition. The slow bleed of strength over time. The way hunger crept in when food ran low, the way sleep-deprived minds started to make mistakes they wouldn’t have made otherwise.
Ruvian folded the letter with care, smoothing the edges before slipping it into his notebook. If there was a time to shift the weight of the first-year hierarchy, it would be during the expedition.
‘If I want to pull Julian from the top, it would have to happen there, of course, back then, I wouldn't have the confident to do so. But now, is a different matter.’ he firmly decided.