The sky over Kriegstadt was dark, thick with clouds of ash and shimmering violet energy—signs of the world's fragile equilibrium. Once the capital of a long-dead empire, Kriegstadt now stood as the beating heart of the Imperial Territories, a city forged in war and reborn through chaos. Its people walked under flickering arcane lanterns, their steps echoing between towering cathedrals of steel and rune-etched stone.
But today, even the usual gloom couldn't drown the buzz of anticipation that filled the streets. It was the Dämmerungstag, the first day of the great City-Wide Tournament. For one month, Kriegstadt would become an arena—a crucible where the youth of the empire battled for the right to enter the Universität der Ewigen Flamme, one of the four great universities, each the size of a world.
The Arrival
Maximilian Kriegswald stepped off the armored transit rail, joining the hundreds of newly awakened talents crowding the central plaza. For the first time, he felt both surrounded and utterly alone. Around him stood nobles in flowing arcane robes, engineers in enchanted exosuits, alchemists with floating grimoires, and bladesmen with runed steel on their backs.
Many were accompanied by retainers, private instructors, or elite guild mentors. Maximilian had no such privilege.
He wore a plain tunic of faded gray and a dark coat too large for his frame. His only companion was a small satchel containing bread, water, and a notebook—filled with sketches, questions, and his own crude theories about the System.
But what made him different wasn't visible. Hidden beneath the weak façade of an S+ Rank Talent was the echo of something ancient and starborn. He had to keep it concealed. If word got out about an SSS+ Awakening, he would be hunted—by guilds, governments, or worse.
"Concealment Protocols Engaged.""System Signature: Cloaked.""Detection Risk: 0.2% – Within Safe Parameters."
The Parade of Power
The competitors were ushered into a vast procession ground known as Der Blutpfad—the Blood Path. It was paved with obsidian tiles that shimmered with residual mana, and at its center stood a colossal spire: Turm der Bestimmung, the Tower of Determination. From here, every name would be registered, every combatant marked and ranked.
Above them floated giant crystal screens showing live feeds of noble sponsors, guild masters, and university deans watching from their floating citadels.
Each participant had to present their name, class, and talent rating.
"Erik Stahl – Path of the Astral Blade – Talent: SS"Thunderous applause erupted. Even Maximilian could feel the spatial pressure emanating from Erik. He had trained with nobles, studied under private war tutors, and now stood as one of Kriegstadt's most promising swordsmen.
Then came:
"Aeliana Voss – Path of Celestial Light – Talent: SS"She walked with poise, adorned in silver mageweave robes embroidered with shifting constellations. When her name was called, even the skies responded—a shimmer of light trailing in her wake. She gave Maximilian a quiet glance from the stage.
"Maximilian Kriegswald – Path: Unknown – Talent: S+"A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some laughed. Some sneered.
"No class?""S+? Poor lad must've barely scraped in.""Or a fake..."
The registry officer, an automaton with a crystalline core, simply nodded and stamped his sigil onto Maximilian's armband.
"Participant 717. Class: Undefined. Await system synchronization."
Guild Eyes and Whispered Threats
As the crowd dispersed, Maximilian made his way toward the housing sector—rows of training lodges and rest towers designated by power brackets. Being "classless," he was assigned to the Obsidian Ring, a zone barely maintained and long considered cursed.
But he wasn't alone.
Two guild scouts watched him from a balcony above. Both bore the golden cloaks of the Kriegsfürsten-Gilde, an elite guild known for aggressively recruiting rare talents.
"S+ and classless?""Fake identity, or something we missed?""Notify Oberführer Markus. Have him observed."
Another presence followed him from the shadows—quieter, unregistered.
House Wars: Bloodlines, Wealth, and Fire
The city-wide tournament wasn't just about strength. Within each region of the city, Houses—factions formed of noble families, guild apprentices, and aspiring university candidates—battled for dominance.
In District Drei, three major houses ruled the competition:
Haus Schwarzglut (Blackglow House) – Masters of destructive fire magic and industrial engineering. Known for aggressive recruitment and use of cursed weaponry.
Haus Winterflamme (Winterflame House) – A faction of elite alchemists and frost mages, focused on battlefield control and defensive formations.
Haus Blutrabe (Bloodraven House) – A mysterious, semi-rogue House with deep connections to the underground and a reputation for assassins, spies, and illegal spirit summoners.
Maximilian would soon find himself drawn into the politics of these Houses—not because he sought power, but because power was drawn to him.
First Trial: The Mirror of Intent
That night, competitors gathered in the Schattenhof Arena, a dark crystalline coliseum surrounded by arcane spires.
Here, the First Trial would begin: a test not of brute strength, but of willpower and soul synchronization. The arena floor shimmered, and from the center rose a polished black mirror—Der Spiegel der Absicht.
Each participant had to stand before the mirror. It would show their true class potential and spirit affinity—not for the audience, but for themselves. Many failed. Others broke down in madness.
When Maximilian's turn came, the mirror remained blank for a moment… and then flickered with constellations, fragments of creation, and whispers of systems beyond understanding. In the reflection, he saw himself wreathed in starlight, shadow, and fire. Multiple class sigils flared behind him—Voidwalker, Starbound Scholar, Aether-Wrought King.
And then the mirror shattered.
"Class: Unable to Determine.""You are… not of this world.""Proceed to Round Two."
The Shadows Move
Later that night, as Maximilian returned to his lodging, he was intercepted in the alley by a hooded figure. Unlike the guild scouts, this man carried a presence older than the city itself. His eyes glowed with pale fire.
"Maximilian Kriegswald," the man said in an accent older than the Empire, "you bear the mark of the Eidblut. The gods watch you now."
Maximilian tensed.
The man tossed him a pendant. It shimmered with starlight and bore a strange insignia—one not listed in any System index.
"You are not alone, Starborne Fragment. But tread carefully. Some will see your gift as a curse."
The man vanished into the night, and Maximilian stood alone once more—his journey only beginning.
End of Chapter 3: Kriegstadt Awakens