"Well, soldiers," Ruth called, stopping at the last door in the hallway. "This is your new home."
He gave us one last look, then swung the door open.
My breath hitched.
The room was… grand. Way grander than anything I'd expected. At least half the size of the meeting hall, with polished marble tiles gleaming under a chandelier dripping candlelight. The faint scent of dust lingered, but it beat the sweaty, musty stench of the training camp.
Empty picture frames lined the walls. A bare bookshelf sat in the corner. Three beds were spaced out — two in opposite corners, and one on the left wall — each with its own desk and a sturdy wooden chair.
No windows, though. Just lanterns and candlelight.
Marble floors? Chandeliers? After months of cots and mildew, this felt almost… illegal.
"Is every soldier's room like this, Chief Ruth?" I asked, still gawking.
Ruth shrugged. "Yea. And if you stay alive for long enough, you can change it to your preferences."
Behind me, Horizon and Kyng strolled in like they owned the place.
"Dibs on that bed!" Kyng yelled, belly-flopping onto it so hard the frame groaned.
Ruth scratched his neck, somewhere between a grimace and a smirk.
"…How does the military even afford all this?" I asked, finally tearing my eyes off the chandelier.
"Tourism and mining," he replied. "A quarter of the mining profit from the continent comes to us."
I blinked. "That… sounds like a lot."
"It is," Ruth said knowingly. He clapped my back. "Anyway, I'm off. Got paperwork to finish. Don't break anything."
And just like that, he walked away, not sparing another glance.
I stepped fully in and shut the door behind me.
I stood for a second, mustering up my courage before crossing over to the free bed, sinking onto it slowly. The mattress was soft but firm — almost too comfortable.
My body stayed tense, waiting for some instructor to bust in and start screaming.
I let out a long breath and glanced at the others. Horizon's vivid blood-red hair practically glowed in the candlelight, her sharp green eyes half-shut. She looked like a huntress out of a story.
Kyng, meanwhile, looked like a farmer who'd been scrubbed clean and told to smile — easygoing, brown eyes, soft jawline, jet-black hair.
I didn't know how I measured up to either of them — but for now, we were stuck together.
For a while, nobody spoke. We just lay there, staring at the ceiling.
I started thinking about what I'd write home.
If my memory was right, the new month had just started, but I hadn't sent a letter for the last month since I was too busy. Instructors really go all in once the graduation is close.
I usually sent a letter a month, since my parents were a pretty fragile couple, I could just imagine them freaking out by now. Normally, I sended them updates on my training and instructors. Last time I had sent them the story about flaming instructor Joe (Long story, maybe another time?). I also send them a portion of my paycheck, nothing crazy, but enough to actually help.
But I'm not the only one who was sending crazy stories every month. My parents also send letters monthly, and last month got a bit heated.
Get this, a few weeks after I had left, they made another child. Yea. I know. But that's not all. She was even delivered just a week ago. I can just feel her tiny presence hogging up the attention of my parents. Augghhh. It makes me jealous just thinking about it.
Topic change, topic change. Ahem. Besides the new baby, turns out they also moved in with my Aunt. I never liked the woman. She looked too shady and mysterious. But I guess I can't relay my opinions halfway across the continent, can I? Besides, Aunt was the only close family that had a war shelter.
One of the candle lights flickered, grabbing my attention.
I shook my head, sitting up. All this thinking was gonna fry my brain. Neither Horizon nor Kyng looked like they were planning to talk either.
The silence was getting painful.
I checked the clock. 8:32 PM.
Okay. Now or never.
I wiped my palms on the sheets, cleared my throat, and croaked out:
"So… how… are you guys?"
Silence.
Nobody even looked up.
Nice one, Felix. Really nailed it.
I rolled my eyes at myself.
Alright. Round two.
"So, Horizon…" I tried, rubbing the back of my neck.
"Mhm?" she murmured, not opening her eyes.
Progress.
"Nice weather, huh?"
Her eyes opened just enough to glare at me. "Creep."
What.
"Ooof. That's tough, creepy Felix," Kyng snorted, grinning like a gremlin.
I blinked. "I didn't even—"
"That's what a creep would say!" Kyng cackled.
I inhaled deeply. Not worth it. Move on.
I cleared my throat and asked, "Horizon, you said you topped armed combat, right?" I asked, trying to salvage the moment.
That got her attention. She sat up slightly. "Yeah. Why?"
"I specialized in armed combat too," I said, straightening.
Her brow rose, intrigued. "Oh? What cohort?"
"Twelfth," I smirked. The twelfth cohort was the best as it came, and clearly, she knew that.
Her eyes actually widened a little.
Kyng made a mock time-out gesture. "Woah, creepy Felix is actually a big shot?"
I shrugged. "...Bottom of the list, though."
Horizon let out a small laugh, clearly relieved. "That tracks," she said. "I topped the eleventh cohort."
The eleventh? That's no joke. That was the second-strongest cohort in terms of armed combat, and being the topper out of fifty other people. She must be the child of a noble.
"So you're basically the arms of this group," I said. "Pun intended."
She just shrugged, though the pride on her face was obvious. "No big deal."
I turned to Kyng. "And you're the acrobat, right?"
He gasped dramatically. "You remembered!"
"Hard to forget after that… performance," I muttered.
"You're right. I am unforgettable," he declared, striking some ridiculous pose.
This dude was about to kill me with secondhand embarrassment.
I scrambled for another topic, but before I could—
A loud bell rang through the building. Once. Twice.
Every sound in the room vanished instantly. The bell tolled a few more times, then fell silent.
Lights out.
I let out a sigh. All I'd learned about my teammates was that I was apparently the most normal one here… and maybe the second strongest.
I flopped back onto the bed. "Good night, I guess," I muttered, shutting my eyes.
No response.
As the familiar stillness of lights-out settled over me, the tension finally drained from my shoulders. Fatigue crept in, heavy and quiet, until even through the awkward atmosphere… sleep finally won.
I slept a dreamless night. Peaceful. Hours passed as I drifted, and eventually—
"How long are you planning to sleep, creep?" A sharp, feminine voice sliced through my ears.
"Just a few more minutes…" I groaned, rolling to my side.
"Oh yeah?" she said, a little too sweetly. "Alright then."
A second later, something slammed into my back. Pain shot through me as I yelped and slid off the bed, cracking my head on the marble floor.
"OWWW!" I shrieked, clutching my skull.
"You still wanna sleep?"
I dragged myself upright, groggy and sore, and glared at the culprit. Horizon stood there with her hand on her hip, looking profoundly unimpressed.
"I'll pass…" I muttered, brushing myself off.
"Good morning, Creepy Felix!" another voice sang out, way too chipper.
I sighed. "Good morning, Kyng."
"You're the one who kept whining about keeping routine, remember?" Horizon added, smirking.
"Haha," I deadpanned, stretching my arms. "Oh man… where's the bathroom?"
Horizon just shrugged. I glanced at Kyng — he was staring at a crooked picture frame like it held the secrets of the universe.
I groaned. Guess I'd have to hold it.
I was about to ask what we were supposed to do when the door burst open. Ruth stomped in, looking like death warmed over — hair a mess, dark circles under his eyes, clutching three weapons.
"Up already?" he grunted, shuffling inside.
He dropped the weapons on the nearest bed with a thunk and beckoned us over.
I nudged Kyng in the ribs before stepping up next to Horizon. "Are these for us, Chief Ruth?" I asked, eyeing them curiously.
He gave me a look so flat it could pancake a horse. "No," he deadpanned. "I just stayed up all night filling out paperwork so I could show them off."
"Dumbass," Horizon muttered under her breath.
I cleared my throat, fighting a smirk. "Uh… Right. My mistake."
Kyng slid in beside me as Ruth stepped aside, finally letting us see the weapons laid out.
On the bed sat a pair of daggers bound together by a coiled chain, a short sword with — wait — was that a whip attached to the hilt? And lastly, a pair of hefty metal gauntlets.
"Chief Ruth…" Horizon muttered, eyeing the weapons like they were spoiled leftovers.
"Just pick one," he hissed. "Be grateful I even got you these for free."
"Dibs on the gauntlets!" Kyng yelled before anyone could blink, snatching them off the sheets.
"Don't think anyone was fighting you for those," I said dryly. I reached down and grabbed the sheathed daggers, hooking them into my belt loops. "Guess these are mine."
"Leaving the weirdest one for me," Horizon grumbled, reluctantly taking the short sword and its whip.
"Move," Ruth barked, already halfway out the door.
"Yessir!" Kyng chirped, jogging after him like this was a field trip.
I sighed, exchanged a glance with Horizon, then followed.
By the time I even stepped into the hallway, Ruth was already halfway down it, moving like a man possessed. I had to break into a sprint just to keep him in sight, weaving through corridors.
We passed what looked like several floors of dorms, then climbed a winding staircase to the top level — I barely caught any details, too busy trying not to eat marble.
Finally, I managed to catch up and fell into step beside Kyng, trying to control my breathing.
Kyng, of course, wasn't even sweating. Dude just matched Ruth's pace effortlessly, wearing that same goofy smirk.
I glanced behind — no Horizon. She was probably still sprinting to catch up.
"So where exactly are we going, Chief Ruth?" I asked between breaths, scanning the unfamiliar hallway around us.
This level was… different. No doors on either side, just long stretches of wall lined with paintings of jewel-clad figures and chandeliers overhead.
"Meeting room," Ruth replied flatly. "We're late."
About a minute later, we stopped at the end of the hallway.
A massive silver door loomed ahead, its surface polished like a mirror. At its center was a silver raven, wings made of overlapping daggers, its narrow eyes carved into a permanent glare.
Ruth rapped his knuckles on the metal twice, then stepped back.
We waited.
One minute. Then another.
"Uh…" I pointed at the door.
"Give it time," Ruth said evenly.
"It's… really shiny," Kyng added helpfully, still staring at it.
Silence.
"Yes," Ruth replied flatly. "It is."
Behind us, Horizon finally stumbled to a stop, bent over and clutching her knees, gasping for breath.
"What the hell…" she growled at me between breaths.
"What? I didn't do anything," I said, hands up.
She straightened, exhaling hard. "So what exactly are we waiting for? And what's this giant-ass door supposed to be?"
Nobody answered. I had no clue. Kyng? Still gawking at the bird like it might sing.
She sighed, sharper this time. "What's the door for, Chief Ruth?"
That got a faint nod of approval from him. "Second stage of graduation," he finally said, with the faintest smirk.
All three of us froze, our eyes locking onto the towering door.
"So you mean…" I started.
Ruth's smirk widened slightly. "Exactly. Time to meet—"
Before he could finish, the door itself groaned, gears grinding like old bones as it slowly began to part.
Light spilled out, blinding at first.
And in the glow stood the silhouette of a man. Broad shoulders. Unmoving.
"Kang-Min," Ruth finished. "The strongest hero of Li-Young."