The time was nearing ten at night when the vehicle stopped at a side gate connected to the Third Order. There were no glowing signs or welcoming flags—just a low gray wall behind which stretched a wide dirt courtyard, about three hundred meters away from the academy's main building.
The driver got out first, then slowly opened the rear door from the left side. Before Levan could step out, a man in a plain field uniform approached. He was slender, holding a wooden registration tablet in his hand. His dull brown hair was slicked back excessively, and his short beard was uneven—an obvious but failed attempt at appearing refined.
The man said in a semi-formal tone, "Welcome, Levan. I'm Arval, a combatant and assistant to the chief supervisor. I've come to escort you inside."
Levan replied quietly, "Thank you."
But before he could take a single step, Kino suddenly popped up from behind Arval, placing both hands on his shoulders from behind.
"Boo!"
Arval yelped and jumped forward, falling to the ground, then turned with wide eyes. "S-Sir Kino?! You scared me half to death!"
Kino burst into loud laughter. "Still a coward, just like I remember, Arval."
Arval blinked rapidly and exclaimed, "S-Sir Kino? You're here?! Praise be! How's everything? And the deputy commander?"
They exchanged a quick greeting, then Kino leaned in and whispered something into Arval's ear.
Arval's expression changed immediately. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he said hastily, "Understood... Right away! Are you sure?"
Kino nodded confidently. "Yes, and I was prepared for all outcomes."
He then patted Levan's shoulder, looked at him silently, and turned to leave calmly, heading back to his Order and leaving behind a trail of quiet questions.
...
Arval walked slowly ahead of Levan, explaining in his usual tone, "Before I take you to the supervisor, let me show you something."
From above, the layout was simple but organized: the academy buildings formed a large square. On the right stood a long row of ten residential buildings for trainees, lined up closely with narrow dirt paths between them. Each building was two stories tall, made of wood and metal, containing communal living units.
On the left, ten more buildings of similar size, designated for indoor training arenas, weapon storage, and supply rooms. Some were open-sided; others fully enclosed.
In the center stretched a vast courtyard dividing the complex in two. The front part was paved with smooth cement for group training and assemblies. The rear section was bare dirt, used for open combat and archery.
At the far end of the courtyard stood the academy's main building, five stories high, made of solid gray stone. Its square windows and wooden outer staircases creaked softly underfoot. The facade was simple, but the design radiated stern functionality.
Arval gestured toward it. "This is where decisions are made. Everything begins here." He added as they walked, "The second floor holds the rooms of the subordinate supervisors, and the third floor is the chief supervisor's office. The fourth and fifth floors house the library and ancient archives."
He pointed to one of the buildings on the left. "You'll be living there later. Each team gets a room. But tonight... you're in a temporary room."
Then, lowering his voice a little, he added, "Oh, and a word of caution... Not everyone here will treat you kindly."
Levan looked at him, puzzled. "Why?"
Arval replied, "Because you're from outside the Orders. Trainees born within the Orders—especially the first three—see themselves as elite. Those from villages? They see them as a burden, or servants. Even some from the other Orders act superior. But don't worry, just prove yourself."
...
They continued walking through the corridor leading to the academy's main building. Despite its simple exterior, the sound of their footsteps on the wooden stairs blended with the quiet stillness of the night.
They ascended to the third floor, where a small brass plaque above one door read: "Nolvar Syn – Chief Supervisor."
Arval knocked lightly, then entered when permitted. "Sir, I brought Levan."
Behind the desk sat a man in his mid-thirties, pale-skinned, with a meticulously shaved head and square glasses glinting under the yellow light of a hanging lamp. He wore a gray coat adorned with the golden insignia of the Sixth Order.
He looked up without smiling and said in a dry voice, "Levan. We've met before, during the Inclination test... remember?"
"Yes, sir."
Nolvar stood briefly, gave a light salute, then sat again. His tone remained firm. "I am a knight of the Sixth Order and the chief supervisor here."
He opened a wooden file, flipped through several pages, and said, "The students here have completed three internal tests. Now... begins the fourth phase. The most difficult one."
Levan asked, "What kind of test?"
Nolvar gave him a sharp look. "Field missions. Some within the state's borders, others beyond the Wall if necessary. The goal? Survival. Leadership. Decision-making. Coping with team loss."
Then, sliding a finger across one of the lines in the file, he continued, "Only 48 recruits remain. Tomorrow, they will be split into 16 teams. Each team will have three members."
Levan, curiosity and caution in his voice, asked, "And what happens after that?"
Nolvar, without lifting his eyes, answered, "Teams that survive and demonstrate competence will be offered choices: join one of the major Orders' forces or serve in support units. Many are sent to the first three Orders... but not as warriors. As tools to be used."
He closed the file calmly, then looked at Arval. "Take him to the temporary room. Just for tonight. Team assignments will be announced tomorrow."
Arval nodded slightly, signaling Levan to follow. As they walked out, Levan couldn't help but ask, "Is there anyone else here from the Sixth Order besides you?"
Arval, descending the stairs beside him, replied, "There are subordinate supervisors from various Orders, but the chief supervisor here is always from the Sixth. We're the ones overseeing final qualification."
Then, in a lighter tone, he added, "And I'm here to make sure things don't go off the rails."
He stopped briefly in front of one of the doors. "This is your room for the night. Starting tomorrow, you'll move into your team's room. Rest now, and we'll see who your companions will be."
Levan paused at the door, then asked hesitantly, "Do you know a trainee named Romo?"
Arval gave a small smile. "Yes, he passed the tests and is already here. You'll see him soon."
A sudden wave of relief washed over Levan, easing a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying. He entered the room—not spacious, but clean and orderly, with a single bed, a small cabinet, and a low wooden table.
Arval, before closing the door, said, "Sleep well, and be ready... Tomorrow, everything changes."