Chapter 15: Withdrawl from school Ethan stepped into the principal’s office, his posture calm and composed. Principal Hervey was seated behind his desk, his eyes scanning through some documents. When he saw Ethan enter, he set the papers down and smiled politely. "Hello, Principal. How are you?" Ethan greeted with a nod. "I came to withdraw from school. Could you help me complete the formalities?" Hervey blinked in surprise. He studied Ethan for a moment, as if trying to confirm he’d heard right. Then he leaned forward. "Withdraw? Are you sure, Ethan?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice. "You’ve shown incredible potential. You’re already a quasi-martial warrior. With your talents, there’s a real chance you could be accepted into Aurora Martial University. This decision... it’s not something to take lightly. Won’t you reconsider?" Ethan reached into his pocket and calmly pulled out a sleek, black card—the identity token of a recognized martial warrior. He placed it gently on the desk. "I’m grateful, Principal. But I’ve already become a full-fledged martial warrior. The Alliance has officially contracted me. From now on, I want to focus fully on the warrior path. Thank you for everything." Principal Hervey froze. "You... What did you just say?" "I’ve become a martial warrior," Ethan repeated, his smile modest. "I was lucky, that’s all." Hervey stood up in disbelief. "Two days ago, you awakened... and now you’re already a martial warrior?" He was speechless. The sheer improbability of such a thing happening shook him. In all his years as an educator—and a Level 5 Martial Master himself—he’d never heard of such a case. And now Ethan was telling him this like it was just a small update? Hervey stared at the black card, a token of the warrior identity and realization dawned on him. Ethan wasn’t just any genius—he was the kind of once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon that could rewrite the history books. If he had known earlier, he could have reported this to the higher-ups... Perhaps even earned honors, or a promotion. But now it was too late. The withdrawal process went smoothly. Outside, Ethan noticed Mark being wheeled away by the school’s medical team. Students glanced at him with a mix of fear and awe, instinctively stepping aside to clear a path. No one dared block his way now. He made his way to the parking lot, but just as he was about to enter his car, he noticed a familiar figure walking toward him. Rose. She smiled softly. "I heard what happened," she said, her voice gentle. "You’re amazing, Ethan. I didn’t know you were so strong." Ethan scratched the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. "Getting a compliment from your crush... doesn’t feel bad at all," he thought. Out loud, he replied, "Don’t mention it. You’re actually the amazing one. Awakening a soul talent is no small feat. What’s your next move?" Rose nodded, her expression calm. "The Alliance and the Education Ministry both reached out. After some thought, I’ve decided to join the Education Faction. I’ll sit for the written exam. If I pass, I can directly enter Aurora Martial University without needing to take the martial test." "What about you?" she asked. "I just withdrew from school," Ethan said. "I want to become a full-time warrior." Rose blinked in surprise, then smiled sincerely. "Congratulations, then. I hope our paths cross again." Their brief exchange ended there, and Ethan returned home. What he didn’t know was that the Silva family was already moving against him. Even if he had known, he wouldn’t have cared. Eric Silva, a mere peak Martial Master, didn’t concern him. Once home, Ethan walked into his courtyard, unsheathed his sword, and began to practice. His parents, Jack and Elina, had taken a rare day off. At Ethan’s suggestion, they went for a walk through the city, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his sword. From noon until evening, Ethan practiced ceaselessly. Each swing cut the air sharper than the last. His breath was steady, his eyes focused, his intent unshakable. Then— [Ding! Sword Intent upgraded to Level 6] A wave of force surged through him. Ethan paused, his heart pounding. Level 6. That meant a force multiplication of eight times. A terrifying number. To put it in perspective, only legendary techniques like "Dimension Slash" and "Annihilation"—each worth over 100 billion Alliance Coins—could multiply force over ten times. And now, Ethan was getting close to that level through pure sword comprehension. Yet he wasn’t completely satisfied. "Only two levels after all that practice..." he muttered, sweat rolling down his brow. "Maybe I’m not as talented as I thought." Somewhere in the universe, surely, there were monstrous geniuses who could comprehend Level 9 Sword Intent instantly. Right? If any sword fanatic heard Ethan say this, they’d probably cough up blood and try to kill him on the spot. Level 6 Sword Intent? Most cultivators only ever heard of sword intent, and even that was considered a legend. After wiping off the sweat, Ethan returned to his room and took a quick shower. His phone rang. It was Supervisor Charles. "Ethan," his voice came clearly through the line, "your custom sword is finished. You’ll receive it tomorrow when you come to the Alliance Hall. I’ve also assembled a suitable team for your first mission outside." Ethan’s heart raced with excitement. The moment he’d been dreaming of—adventuring, hunting monsters, slaying dragons—was almost here. After the call, he sat quietly in his room and let his mind expand. His mental energy swept out like a vast tide, covering a full 3-kilometer radius. He was startled. His Spirit attribute had only doubled, but the range of his perception had tripled. He tried to lift more than ten objects at once—but still couldn’t. "Maybe I need a qualitative change to expand my control..." he mused. He looked at the ten pitch-black flying knives beside his bed and raised them into the air. They hovered silently. With a single thought, they shot through the room— 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎 Boom! The air cracked as they zipped at 200 meters per second. A new idea flickered in Ethan’s mind. "If I can lift objects... can I lift myself?" He placed his sword flat on the ground, then carefully stepped on it. Slowly, he infused it with his mental energy. And then—he rose. He was flying. Wobbling at first, but within ten minutes, he was standing firmly, riding his sword through the courtyard like one of the immortal sword cultivators from the stories. Only Martial Kings could fly. And spirit master can also fly by using an object as a media like Ethan. Later that night, he sat on his bed, browsing the web, soaking in everything he could about this world—its vast continents, terrifying monsters, ancient ruins, and mythical treasures. He wanted to know more. To understand. "Where did these alien ruins come from?" he wondered. "Was there another human civilization here before us? What realm lies beyond Martial Emperor?" But those questions were buried deep within layers of secrecy. Common citizens couldn’t access such truths. Then he remembered—his father was a 3-Star Citizen. He searched for what that meant. Apparently, a Star Citizen was someone who had made a significant contribution to humanity—through invention, research, battle, or sacrifice. Star rankings ranged from 1 to 6. And a 6-Star Citizen was considered equal in value to a Martial Emperor. Ethan’s respect for his father deepened even further. Eventually, after hours of reading and absorbing knowledge like a sponge, Ethan lay down, closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep. Tomorrow, he would step out into the wilds. To fight monsters. To forge his legend. His blood was already boiling.