The Awakening Error - The system's Greatest Error

The sky was vast and dark, the stars barely visible through the drifting clouds. A soft wind rustled the leaves, carrying the scent of damp earth. The campfire crackled quietly, casting flickering shadows across Ethan's face as he sat beside it, lost in thought.

Across from him, Ronan leaned back against a rock, staring up at the sky. They were both exhausted—every inch of their bodies ached from the brutal training, but neither of them could sleep.

"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?" Ronan asked, his voice low.

Ethan didn't respond immediately. He simply stared into the flames, his hands clenched around a small stone. The firelight reflected in his eyes, but his mind was somewhere far away.

"The Institution," he finally said.

Ronan sighed. "Yeah. Figures." He shifted, resting an arm over his knee. "Veyrn's rival basically guaranteed we're going, assuming we survive this training. That should be enough motivation, right?"

Ethan shook his head. It wasn't just about going.

"I have to get in," he muttered.

Ronan glanced at him, sensing something deeper. "You really want to prove yourself that badly?"

Ethan exhaled slowly.

"It's not just about proving myself," he admitted. "It's about Veyrn. He's the only one who ever believed in me. The only one who looked at me and didn't see... nothing." His grip on the stone tightened. "I owe him more than just becoming strong. I owe him success."

Ronan was quiet for a long moment.

"And your family?" he asked, his voice softer now.

Ethan's jaw clenched. He could feel the weight of those memories pressing down on him—the way his father looked at him with quiet disappointment, the whispers behind his back, the comparisons to his younger brother, Leonard.

"They think I'm nothing," Ethan said bitterly. "Fodder grass—something that grows everywhere, worthless and easily stepped on." His fingers dug into his palm. "But if I enter the Institution… if I become someone worthy of standing in that place—"

He inhaled sharply.

"Then they won't be able to ignore me anymore."

The flames crackled.

Ronan exhaled and leaned back. "Hah. You really are stubborn." He glanced at Ethan with a small smirk. "Well, if that's what you're aiming for, I guess I have no choice but to follow, huh?"

Ethan gave a small chuckle, the tension in his chest loosening just slightly.

But they both knew the path ahead was still brutal.

The next morning, Veyrn stood before them, arms crossed, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"You're still standing after yesterday's training?" he said, raising a brow. "Good. But I hope you didn't think that was the worst of it."

Ethan and Ronan exchanged wary glances.

"We knew you'd say that," Ronan muttered.

Veyrn smirked. "Then let's begin."

The training was unlike anything they had endured before.

Weight Training: Veyrn increased the gravity even further, forcing their bodies to endure ten times the usual weight. Every movement became agony. Even breathing felt like a struggle.

Combat Under Extreme Conditions: They fought each other on narrow platforms suspended over raging rivers, in blizzards where the cold sapped their strength, and in deep caves where complete darkness forced them to rely on instinct.

Mental Torture: Veyrn would place them in illusions, forcing them to relive their worst fears until they learned to control their emotions and fight through them.

Each night, Ethan collapsed, his body bruised and shaking. But every morning, he got back up.

Because he had no other choice.

"You two have improved," Veyrn finally admitted after weeks of relentless torment. "But don't get arrogant. The Institution doesn't accept just anyone. Even with all your progress, you're still weak compared to what awaits you there."

Ethan clenched his fists. He had expected as much.

"Then tell us," he demanded. "What exactly is the Institution?"

Veyrn exhaled, his gaze distant.

"The Institution is not just a school. It's the breeding ground of monsters."

Veyrn's voice was calm, yet there was an underlying weight to his words.

"The Institution is where the strongest talents of the world gather. It is the single greatest academy in existence, and it has stood for centuries, untouched by war or destruction."

Ethan and Ronan listened in silence.

"Students from every corner of the world attend—the West, where magic reigns; the East, where spirit cultivators and body refiners dominate; the North, where warriors control the power of elements; and the South, where assassins and strategists are trained from birth."

"But it is not just about different powers. The very principles of strength differ. Mages use mana, cultivators use life energy, and warriors use their raw bodies. And yet—"

Veyrn's gaze sharpened.

"At the Institution, all these forces are forced to clash. Those who survive—those who adapt—become legends."

Ethan's heart pounded. This was what they were heading toward.

"The Institution doesn't accept the weak," Veyrn continued. "The entrance exam alone weeds out ninety percent of applicants. Those who fail don't get a second chance."

His next words were like a hammer strike.

"You have one shot."

After hearing Veyrn's explanation, Ethan and Ronan had no doubts.

They would enter the Institution.

And so, the final phase of their training began.

Speed Training: Veyrn made them chase him across mountains while dodging his attacks. If they fell behind, he increased the difficulty.

Endurance Trials: He left them in the wilderness with no food, forcing them to hunt, survive, and fight off threats.

Battle Tactics: He threw them against enemies who were stronger, faster, and smarter—forcing them to learn how to win without relying on brute strength alone.

Days turned into weeks. The fire inside them burned brighter than ever.

Until finally—

"That's enough."

Veyrn stood before them, arms crossed. For the first time, he looked satisfied.

"You're ready."

Ethan took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling. Three years of suffering. Three years of pushing beyond their limits.

And now, they were finally prepared.

The Institution awaited.