I Evolve 10,000 Times Faster

The stealth transport cut through the clouds without a sound.

Holden sat in the pilot’s seat, his hands resting on the controls while Renna had her face pressed against the window.

"I can’t see anything. Can anyone see anything?"

"That’s the point of a stealth transport," Emric said from the seat behind her. "If you could see out clearly, others could see in. The light-bending field works both directions."

"So I’m just supposed to sit here and stare at nothing?"

"You could review tactical formations."

"I could also jump out of this window."

"You can’t. We’re at fourteen thousand feet."

"It was a joke, Emric."

"Jokes typically have a punchline."

Renna turned around and stared at him. Emric stared back, neither of them blinking.

Lyra, sitting in the back row with her spear across her lap, didn’t even look up. "If you two start arguing before we land, I will freeze the both of you to your seats."

"She started it," Emric said.

"I don’t care who started it."

Holden smiled and adjusted the altitude. The Capital appeared through a break in the clouds, but his smile faded almost immediately.

The city looked different.

The royal gold and crimson that used to hang from every building were gone. In their place hung the dark silver banners of the Vanguard Academy.

And the patrols.

Groups of four moved in tight formation through the streets, dressed in dark armor with perfect posture and weapons drawn and visible. They weren’t guards. They were enforcers.

"The Vanguard has full control of the city," Maeve said through the earpiece. She was monitoring from the transport’s comm station in the back. "Royal military disbanded. Palace guard absorbed or arrested. Vespera declared interim ruler three days after the Emperor fell. She’s been running emergency governance ever since."

"She’s been busy."

"She’s been losing sleep. I can hear it in her voice every time she radios in a status update. She sounds like someone who hasn’t had a full meal in a week."

"Sounds about right."

The transport descended toward the palace district. From above, Holden could see the damage. The western wing of the palace was a blackened husk, while scorch marks stretched across the outer walls from the fight with the mutated Emperor. Scaffolding had been erected around the collapsed sections, but the repair work had barely begun.

He landed the transport in the palace courtyard, behind a wall where it wouldn’t be seen.

The team stepped out.

Renna stretched dramatically. "Solid ground! Actual solid ground! I was going to lose my mind in that tin can."

"You were fine," Emric said.

"I was NOT fine. I was statically charged the entire flight, and my hair is doing a thing, and I don’t like the thing it’s doing."

Holden’s earpiece crackled.

"Voss." Vespera’s voice was flat and tired. "Palace. Command room. Now."

"On my way."

He looked at his team. "Get to the hotel. Rest. I’ll meet you there."

Lyra caught his arm. "Should I come with you?"

"No. She wants me alone." He tilted his head. "Political stuff."

Lyra held his gaze for a moment before nodding and releasing his arm. "Don’t let her work you too hard."

"That’s literally impossible. I’m delightful."

Renna snorted while Emric shook his head. They moved out through the courtyard gate, leaving Holden to walk toward the palace.

The inside was worse than the outside.

The hallways that used to be lined with royal tapestries and golden fixtures were bare. The tapestries and fixtures were gone, along with anything that carried the royal seal. In their place were functional military maps, supply manifests, and deployment schedules pinned directly to the walls with iron nails.

Vanguard soldiers passed him in the halls and saluted. Not because they knew him, but because he walked like someone who belonged.

He found the command room on the second floor.

The door was open.

Vespera sat behind a massive oak desk covered in stacks of paper. She looked terrible. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy knot, her uniform was wrinkled, and dark circles sat under her eyes like bruises. A half-eaten plate of bread and cheese sat forgotten at the corner of the desk, next to an inkwell and three separate quills.

She was reading a document, her jaw tight, when Holden walked in.

She didn’t look up.

"Close the door."

He closed it.

"Sit."

He sat in the chair across from her.

Vespera finished reading the document, set it down, and finally looked at him.

Her eyes were tired, but they hadn’t gone soft. The exhaustion was there, plain as the circles under her eyes, but underneath it was something harder: the look of someone running on fumes and refusing to stop.

"Your team," she said. "What rank are they?"

"Emric and Renna are Rank 2, 1-Star. Lyra is Rank 2, 3-Star."

Vespera stared at him. "Two weeks ago, they were Rank 1."

"Yes."

"Two weeks ago, they were struggling against Rank 1 opponents in the National Tournament."

"Also yes."

"And now they’re all Rank 2."

"They had good teachers."

Vespera leaned back in her chair, which creaked under her weight, and rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers.

"I don’t have time to be subtle about this, Voss, so I’m going to be direct."

"I prefer direct."

"Your team is being promoted. Effective immediately. Apex Vanguard status."

Holden blinked.

Apex Vanguard. The highest military designation in the academy. It was a rank usually reserved for senior instructors and elite field commanders. Students didn’t hold that rank. Students had never held that rank.

"That gives you authority over senior instructors," Vespera continued. "Tactical command authority over academy deployments. Direct reporting line to me. And access to restricted resources, including S-Class cultivation chambers, Platinum-tier gear caches, and the deep archives."

"That’s generous."

"It’s not generous. It’s practical. You’re the strongest asset I have, and I need you positioned where you can do the most damage."

She stood up from her desk and walked to a cabinet against the wall. After opening it, she revealed a row of crystal glasses and a dark bottle.

She poured two drinks.

"You’re not old enough to drink," she said.

"I’ve killed an emperor. I think I’ve earned a glass."

Vespera almost smiled as she handed him a glass before sitting back down.

She didn’t drink immediately. Instead, she held the glass in front of her, slowly swirling the liquid while watching him.

"I know you’re hiding something, Voss."

The room went very quiet.

"I know that a Rank 1 student, even a talented one, does not walk into a palace and melt a Rank 4 Corrupted Emperor. I know that a Rank 1 student does not find Platinum-tier weapons, Legendary cloaks, and artifacts that purify monster cores in the span of a few months. I know that coincidence is a word that people use when they don’t want to say the word impossible."

She took a sip.

"I do not care how you did it, Voss. Just keep doing it."

Holden looked at her, his expression unchanged. Inside, his mind was running calculations at 10,000x speed, cataloging every possible response, every angle, and every risk.

But Vespera wasn’t threatening him. She wasn’t probing. She was telling him, plainly and simply, that she had chosen to trust him.

He raised his glass.

"I just drink a lot of milk, Instructor."

Vespera stared at him for a moment.

Then she let out a short laugh.

She clinked her glass against his.

clink.

"Drink your milk and get out of my office. I have a kingdom to run."

Holden drank. The liquid burned pleasantly on the way down before he set the glass on the desk and stood.

"Thank you, Instructor."

"Don’t thank me. Win."

He left the command room and walked back through the bare hallways of the palace. The Vanguard soldiers saluted again, and this time, he saluted back.

By the time he reached the hotel, the sun was setting.

Maeve was waiting for him in the common room, sitting on the couch with her tablet balanced on her knees. A cup of tea sat untouched beside her, cold.

"You look tired," she said without looking up.

"Vespera promoted us to Apex Vanguard."

Her fingers stopped typing as she looked up. "All of us?"

"All of us."

"Authority over senior instructors?"

"And restricted archives. S-Class chambers. The works."

Maeve’s eyes widened behind her glasses. She set the tablet down, picked up her tea, took a sip, and immediately made a face because it was cold.

"How’s she doing? Vespera?"

"She looks like she hasn’t slept since we left."

"That tracks." Maeve put the tea down. "I’ve been monitoring the political channels. She’s juggling about seven different crises right now. Food distribution, military restructuring, border security, refugee relocation, a few noble house disputes. And something called the Abyssal Resurgence Protocol that nobody will explain to me."

"She’s one person."

"She’s a Rank 4 one person. But yeah, she’s stretched thin."

Holden sat down across from her. He dismissed the System interface briefly to check his balance, then brought it back up.

The numbers glowed in his vision.

[Current KP: 225,890]

[Multiplier: 10,000x]

[KP Booster: 2x Active]

[Fighter Rank: Rank 3 (1-Star, Hidden)]

[Next Multiplier Milestone: 1,000,000 KP]

Holden stared at the numbers.

His next multiplier upgrade cost one million KP.

He had killed a Rank 3 Glacial Tyrant, cleared S-Class spires, farmed phantom beasts in secret dungeons, and butchered his way through dozens of high-rank targets.

And he was sitting at less than 25 percent of what he needed.

At his current rate, hunting single bosses in the wilderness, it would take years, maybe decades. The math was simple and brutal.

"Maeve."

She looked at him. She could read his face better than anyone.

"What’s wrong?"

"I need a war."

Maeve blinked. "A what?"

"A war. A real one. A battlefield with thousands of combatants. Monsters, cultivators, whatever. I need density. Single kills won’t get me where I need to go anymore. I need volume."

Maeve was quiet for a moment before picking up her tablet.

Her fingers started moving across the screen, and the look on her face shifted from sister to analyst in the space of a heartbeat.

"Define the parameters," she said.

"High enemy density. Sustained engagement. Minimal civilian presence so I can operate freely. And it needs to be somewhere the academy has jurisdiction, because Vespera just gave me the authority to deploy."

Maeve nodded slowly as she scrolled through intelligence feeds on her tablet.

"There are three active conflict zones within academy reach. Northern border skirmishes with the remnants of the royal army. Low intensity, scattered engagements. Not enough density."

"Next."

"Abyssal Rift expansion in the eastern territories. Monster surges through dimensional tears. High density, but unpredictable timing. Academy has partial jurisdiction."

"Possible. What else?"

Maeve scrolled further, then stopped.

Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

"There’s something else. Came through the intelligence feed an hour ago. Vespera hasn’t even seen it yet."

"What is it?"

Maeve looked up from her tablet.

"The Opium Front. A region in the deep south. Multiple S-Class rifts opened simultaneously six days ago. The monster population has been multiplying exponentially. Three local academies have already pulled their forces back. The entire region is being overrun."

"How many hostiles?"

"Current estimates are in the tens of thousands. And climbing."

Holden leaned forward.

"Jurisdiction?"

"Unclaimed. The local academies abandoned it, which means whoever moves in first has operational authority."

"That’s my war."

Maeve stared at him for a long moment.

"Holden. The survival rate for academy forces sent to Opium in the last seventy-two hours is eleven percent."

"Then I guess we better not be part of the other eighty-nine."

Maeve stared at him, then shook her head, pushed her glasses up her nose, and started typing.

"I’ll have a full tactical briefing ready by morning."

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