Regalia Power of the King

The next day at Zenith Academy started with an announcement that jolted everyone into action. A mandatory meeting in the largest auditorium on campus had been scheduled for mid-morning. Whispers filled the halls as students speculated about its purpose. As I entered the auditorium, I recognized a few familiar faces from the training grounds and quickly found my cohort grouped up near the center. I joined them, but the sheer number of students, many of whom I didn't recognize, made the room feel overwhelming. Standing at the podium was an imposing instructor dressed in the academy's formal military uniform, his voice cutting through the air with precision..

"Welcome to your first major challenge at Zenith: the Vanguard Trials. This tournament is designed to test your abilities, teamwork, and resolve under pressure. Your performance here will determine your trajectory for the rest of your time at the academy."

What exactly were the Vanguard Trials? And what did she mean by saying it would affect our trajectory here? This hadn't been mentioned in any online forums or even in the onboarding documents, leaving me with more questions than answers.

The announcement alone carried weight, but what followed took the room by surprise. "Unlike previous years, this tournament will not only involve matches among your cohort but also against students from all other active cohorts, including those in their second and third years. Additionally, members of previous graduating classes will also participate. This change is intended to simulate real-world combat scenarios, where you may face both opponents of similar skill levels and those with significantly more experience and training."

A ripple of shock swept through the room. Fighting against the previous cohorts was already intimidating, but now we had to face students from the second and third years too? And graduates? My stomach twisted at the thought. How were we supposed to hold our own against people with years more training and experience? The challenge didn't just escalate—it felt like it was stacked against us entirely.

The instructor continued, unperturbed by the rising murmurs. "Teams will consist of three members, chosen at random. You will need to adapt to working with unfamiliar individuals. This mirrors real combat situations, where you may not always have the luxury of choosing your comrades. Each match will take place in a combat arena, where your objective is twofold: incapacitate your opponents or retrieve their flag to secure victory. The tournament will follow a bracket system: winning teams will advance, while losing teams will move into a separate loser's bracket for a chance to fight their way back. Matches will be timed, and strategies will play a significant role in your success."

With a wave of his hand, a massive screen descended from the ceiling, lighting up with the names of the randomly assigned teams. Whispers quickly erupted into a loud murmur as students scanned the list for their own names.

I quickly found mine:

Team 17:

Natsuya Kiyotaka

Takeshi Nakamura

Jin Park

"Looks like we're together," Takeshi said, his tone neutral but his eyes locked onto the screen.

"Huh," Jin muttered. "Guess I'll try not to hold you guys back." His voice was calm and matter-of-fact.

I felt a little uneasy about working with Takeshi; his intensity was intimidating, like he expected perfection at all times. But having Jin on the team was a relief. He wasn't overwhelming like Takeshi or terrifyingly strong like Yukiko. Instead, Jin's laid-back attitude and approachable personality made the whole situation feel a bit less daunting. Before I could dwell too much, Ryuji's loud voice broke through.

"Are you kidding me?! Who thought it was a good idea to put me with these two?" He pointed at the screen, where his name was paired with Haruto Watanabe and Emily Davis.

"You'll survive," Yukiko said, smirking from across the room. "Maybe."

Sophia, meanwhile, scanned her own team's names. "Well, this should be fun," she said, her hazel eyes lighting up with mischief. "I'll make it work."

Mei Ling quietly reassured Emily, who looked visibly nervous. "You've got this. Just play to your strengths."

Haruto, ever serious, simply crossed his arms and nodded.

The murmurs slowly died down as the instructor stepped forward again. "You have the rest of the week to prepare and strategize with your teams. To ensure your focus, all training sessions and classes will be postponed until after the tournament. Matches will begin next Monday at 0900 hours. Prepare yourselves. Dismissed."

As the room emptied, Takeshi turned to Jin and me. "We start training now," he said bluntly, leaving no room for argument.

Jin raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "Sure, why not? Better than just waiting around."

I hesitated for a moment, still processing everything. "Do we even know what we're up against yet?" I asked, glancing between the two.

"It doesn't matter," Takeshi replied, his tone cold but resolute. "We prepare for everything. That's how you win."

"Fair enough," Jin said, his voice steady. "Let's get to it, then."

Takeshi nodded sharply and led the way out of the auditorium. I followed, still uncertain but knowing there was no turning back now. This was going to be a long day.

•

That afternoon, the training grounds were alive with activity. Takeshi, Jin, and I staked out a section of the arena, far enough from the chaos to focus. As soon as we arrived, Takeshi got straight to the point.

"Before anything else, I need to know what you're both capable of," he said, arms crossed as he sized us up. "Explain your Regalia."

"I can boost my stats," Jin said simply, shrugging. "Strength, speed, reflexes—you name it. Nothing flashy, just enough to keep me in the fight."

"How long can you maintain the boosts?" Takeshi asked, his tone clipped.

Jin scratched the back of his head. "Depends. The stronger the boost, the shorter the time. But I'm good at pacing myself."

Takeshi nodded, then turned to me. "And you?"

"Creation," I said. "I can make weapons, shields, tools, whatever—but I'm still working on using them effectively in combat."

"We'll fix that," Takeshi said, his gaze unwavering. "Let's begin."

We started with sparring. Takeshi paired up with me first, and it quickly became clear that he was relentless. His attacks came with precision, leaving no openings. Every block I managed felt like a small victory, but it didn't take long for me to feel overwhelmed.

"Focus," Takeshi said, deflecting my clumsy strike with ease. "You're too scattered. Keep your movements deliberate."

I gritted my teeth, trying to adjust, but his unyielding pressure made it nearly impossible to find my footing. My frustration only grew as the gap between our skill levels became painfully obvious.

When Jin stepped in, the tone shifted. His movements were fluid, adapting quickly to Takeshi's attacks. While he didn't overwhelm Takeshi, he managed to keep up, his boosts giving him an edge in speed and power. Watching him move, it was clear he had a natural talent for reading his opponent.

"You pick things up fast," Takeshi said after their round, his voice neutral but firm.

Jin wiped sweat from his brow. "I try. Gotta keep things interesting."

As the session went on, Takeshi's sharp critiques extended to both of us. "Jin, don't rely on the boosts alone. Use them to create openings, not just to react."

"Got it," Jin replied with a quick nod.

"Natsuya," Takeshi continued, turning to me. "Your creations are solid, but your timing is off. If you don't learn to anticipate, you'll be playing catch-up in every fight."

"I'm working on it," I said, though the frustration in my voice was evident.

After a grueling series of drills, we took a break. The three of us sat on the ground, catching our breath. Jin leaned back, his usual laid-back demeanor intact, while Takeshi seemed lost in thought, likely strategizing for the next exercise.

"So," Jin said, breaking the silence, "anyone else think this whole Vanguard Trials thing is insane? Graduates? Really?"

"It's a challenge," Takeshi said. "The kind we have to rise to."

"That doesn't make it less crazy," I muttered. "We're supposed to compete with people who've had years more training? How's that fair?"

Takeshi's gaze met mine. "It's not about fair. It's about preparation. We adapt, or we fail."

Jin chuckled lightly. "You've got a one-track mind, huh? Guess that's not a bad thing in a place like this."

Takeshi ignored the comment, standing up and dusting himself off. "Break's over. We're moving on to teamwork drills."

The next exercises focused on coordination. We practiced flanking maneuvers, covering each other's blind spots, and alternating between offensive and defensive roles. Takeshi's instructions were precise, his tactical mind evident in the way he broke down each movement.

"Jin, keep your boosts controlled. You're leaving openings when you overextend."

"Got it," Jin said, adjusting his stance.

"Natsuya," Takeshi added, "use your creations to set the pace of the fight. You can dictate how your opponent moves if you place your weapons strategically."

I nodded, determined to implement his advice. The drills were exhausting, but I could feel myself improving, even if only slightly.

By the end of the session, my body was screaming for rest. Takeshi, of course, looked as composed as ever, while Jin seemed tired but far from spent.

"We start at 0400 sharp tomorrow," Takeshi said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Don't be late."

"Can't wait," Jin said with a grin, though his tone was hard to read.

I groaned quietly as I gathered my gear, the weight of the week ahead pressing heavily on my mind. This was going to be brutal.

•

Late into the night, the academy's administrative wing was silent, save for the faint hum of machinery. In a secluded office tucked away from prying eyes, a operative worked tirelessly. The room was dimly lit, the glow of holographic displays casting sharp shadows on the walls. Piles of documents and open files cluttered the desk, each one meticulously detailing the abilities, weaknesses, and psychological profiles of the students participating in the Vanguard Trials.

The operative's fingers danced across the keyboard with practiced ease, pulling up a list of matchups. Lines of code adjusted brackets, pairing students in ways that seemed innocuous on the surface but were designed to push them to their limits.

"Let's see how they handle this," they murmured, their tone a mix of amusement and calculation. They pulled up Takeshi Nakamura's profile, the screen filling with detailed data—combat footage, energy readouts, and behavioral analysis. A faint smirk tugged at their lips.

"Nakamura… always so composed. But what happens when the odds aren't in your favor?" The operative tapped a few keys, adjusting the parameters of his match. The simulations showed scenarios that would force Takeshi into unfamiliar territory—team dynamics he couldn't control, environments that neutralized his advantages.

Satisfied, they moved on to the next profile. Jin Park. The smirk faded, replaced by a furrowed brow. "Interesting," they muttered, studying the data. Jin's combat history was unremarkable, almost mundane. Yet the metrics suggested an anomaly—spikes of performance that couldn't be fully explained by his Regalia alone. Could it be that the description of his power was incomplete, or even wrong?

The operative leaned back, tapping a pen against the desk. "You're not what you seem, are you?" After a moment of thought, they flagged Jin for additional monitoring and moved on.

Natsuya Kiyotaka's profile appeared next. The operative's eyes lingered on the footage of his entrance exam, but the faint glimmer of interest quickly faded. The creation of weapons, while visually intriguing, came across as crude and uninspired to their practiced eye. "Just another raw talent," they muttered under their breath. "No finesse, no strategy. Let's see if the weight of a real fight forces him to think or breaks him entirely."

They scrolled through the notes on his Regalia. "Creation Regalia… versatile, but directionless. Potential that's all over the place." The operative tapped their pen against the desk before adding a note. "Expose his lack of focus. Add environmental variables. Force him to prioritize or fail." With a few clicks, they set up scenarios designed to exploit Natsuya's inexperience and test his ability to remain composed under duress.

As the night wore on, the operative continued their work, setting traps and challenges within the tournament structure. The goal was clear: push the students beyond their limits, reveal their true potential… or their breaking points.

But as the operative leaned back in their chair, a shadow of doubt flickered across their face. They glanced at the overarching simulation for the tournament, a complex web of matchups and scenarios. For all their calculations, something felt… off. A variable they couldn't account for.

They stared at the screen, the cursor blinking as if mocking their uncertainty. "Am I overcomplicating this?" they muttered, rubbing their temples.

The sound of footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway, and the operative tensed. The hour was late, and no one else was supposed to be here. They quickly locked their screens, the holograms vanishing as they turned their attention to the door. The footsteps faded, leaving only silence.

The operative exhaled slowly, unlocking the screens once more. "The first day of the tournament will change everything," they said softly, as if convincing themselves. With renewed focus, they returned to their work, the faint hum of the displays filling the room once more.