Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner

The next morning arrived with the kind of crisp clarity that made the eastern territories tolerable despite everything trying to kill you. Noah was already awake when the first recruits started filtering into the training hall, their footsteps echoing against polished floors that still smelled faintly of cleaning solution from the night before.

By the time official training started at 0600, all forty faction members had gathered. Some looked alert and ready. Others clutched coffee like it was the only thing keeping them upright. Kelvin fell solidly into the second category, his cybernetic arms holding a mug that was probably his third of the morning.

”Alright,” Noah said, his voice cutting through the murmured conversations. ”Same as yesterday. Find your meditation positions. We’re starting with breath work, then moving into core sensing. Those of you who’ve already manifested chi, you’re working on duration and control today.”

The recruits settled into their positions across the training hall. Valencia took her usual spot near the front, her posture already perfect from days of practice. Marcus sat beside her, less refined but improving. Chen struggled with cross-legged positioning, his legs not quite flexible enough yet to make it comfortable.

Not many people liked sitting that way.

Seraleth moved through the rows with that impossible grace her species possessed, adjusting postures with gentle corrections. Her hands on someone’s shoulders, straightening their spine. A light touch to someone’s knee, repositioning their leg angle. The recruits responded to her instruction with a mix of respect and nervousness—being corrected by a seven-foot alien warrior princess had that effect.

”Breathe,” Lila instructed from her position near the center. ”In through your nose, hold for three seconds, out through your mouth. Don’t think about chi yet. Just breathe.”

The hall filled with the sound of synchronized breathing. Not quite perfect—some people counted too fast, others too slow—but close enough to create a rhythm that helped everyone focus.

Noah watched from the front, observing patterns. Valencia’s white chi was already manifesting around her hands without visible effort, the glow steady and controlled. Marcus had dark chi flowing, the reddish-black energy pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Kira still struggled to sense her core at all, frustration evident in the tension around her eyes.

”Don’t force it,” Noah called out, noticing several recruits showing that telltale strain that meant they were trying to grab their chi instead of guiding it. ”You can’t control something by strangling it. Let it flow. Suggest direction.”

Chen gasped suddenly, his eyes snapping open. White chi flickered around his hands for maybe two seconds before disappearing. His expression shifted from shock to excitement to disappointment in rapid succession.

”I had it,” he said. ”I actually felt it that time.”

”And you lost it when you got excited,” Lila replied, moving to stand beside him. ”That’s normal. Your emotional state affects energy flow. The more you practice, the more stable it becomes regardless of what you’re feeling.”

”How long did it take you?” Chen asked.

”To manifest consistently? About three weeks of daily practice.” Lila crouched down to his level. ”But I had someone teaching me when I was twelve. You’re learning as an adult, which means your mental discipline is better but your body’s less adaptable. Trade-offs.”

Noah noticed Seraleth demonstrating a striking form near the back of the hall. Her white chi blazed around her entire body as she moved through the sequence—punch, block, pivot, kick—each motion precise and devastatingly powerful. The recruits watching her were split between admiration and intimidation.

She caught Noah’s eye across the training hall and smiled, that formal expression that somehow carried warmth underneath. Then she gestured him over.

”Noah,” Seraleth said as he approached. ”I am uncertain if my form is optimal for human physiology. Would you observe and provide correction?”

”Your form looks perfect to me,” Noah replied.

”But I am not human,” Seraleth pointed out. ”My reach is greater, my center of gravity different. What works for my body may not translate properly to human students. If you would demonstrate the same sequence, I can observe the differences and adjust my teaching.”

It was a reasonable request. Noah moved through the striking sequence, letting white chi flow through his movements the way Master Anng had taught him. Power came from the core, traveled through meridians, enhanced muscle and bone.

Seraleth watched with intense focus, her luminous eyes tracking every detail. When he finished, she nodded thoughtfully.

”I see the difference. Your rotation here—” She touched his shoulder lightly, indicating the pivot point. ”—is more compact than mine. Human hip structure requires tighter movement for stability.”

”Exactly,” Noah confirmed.

”Show me again? I wish to ensure I understand the mechanics properly.”

They ran through the sequence three more times, Seraleth’s hands occasionally touching his shoulders or arms to feel how his muscles engaged during specific movements. It was clinical, educational, completely innocent from her perspective.

But Noah noticed Valencia watching with raised eyebrows. Marcus had paused his meditation entirely. And across the hall, Lila’s expression had gone carefully neutral in a way that suggested she’d noticed and wasn’t thrilled.

”Thank you,” Seraleth said finally. ”This is helpful. I will adjust my demonstrations for human proportions.”

She moved back to the recruits, leaving Noah standing there wondering if that had been instructional or something else.

Before he could analyze it further, Lila called out to the group. ”Everyone, listen up. Starting next week, we’re adding dark chi training to the curriculum. For those of you who’ve mastered white chi manifestation, you’ll learn how to draw energy from your environment instead of just internal reserves.”

”Is that harder?” Valencia asked.

”It’s different,” Lila replied. ”White chi is about discipline and control. Dark chi is about connection and flow. Some people find it easier, others harder. Depends on your personality and how you process emotions.”

”Why wait until next week?” Torres asked. ”Why not start now?”

”Because dark chi draws from negative emotions among other things,” Noah explained. ”Fear, anger, desperation. If you try to learn it before you’ve stabilized your white chi foundation, you risk creating feedback loops that amplify those emotions uncontrollably. We’ve seen people hurt themselves trying to rush the process.”

”How badly hurt?” Chen asked nervously.

”Nosebleeds, muscle spasms, temporary loss of ability control,” Lila listed. ”One guy I knew gave himself a stress-induced heart condition that took months to fix. Dark chi is powerful, but it’s not forgiving of mistakes.”

The recruits absorbed that sobering information. Several of them looked relieved they weren’t starting immediately.

Training continued for another hour. Some recruits showed visible improvement—longer chi manifestation duration, better control, more stable energy flow. Others plateaued or even regressed slightly, their frustration making it harder to maintain the calm necessary for proper cultivation.

By the time 0800 rolled around, everyone was exhausted despite the session being primarily meditation and breathing exercises. Mental fatigue was real, and chi cultivation drained people in ways physical training didn’t.

”Good work,” Noah said as they wrapped up. ”Same time tomorrow. Those of you who manifested today, practice for ten minutes before bed. Those still working on sensing your core, just focus on the breathing exercises. Don’t force progress.”

The recruits dispersed gradually, heading toward breakfast or showers or back to their quarters. Noah was helping store equipment when Lila approached.

”Hey,” she said, her tone casual. ”Can you help me with something real quick?”

”Sure. What do you need?”

Lila turned around, sweeping her blonde hair over one shoulder. ”Zipper’s stuck on my training jacket. I can’t reach it properly. Can you get it unstuck?”

Noah moved to help, finding the zipper caught on fabric near her lower back. His fingers worked at the stuck material while Lila stood perfectly still.

”You know,” she said conversationally, ”I’ve been thinking about the academy. Remember that time we partnered for the survival training exercise? A day in the wilderness, just the two of us.”

”I remember,” Noah replied, finally freeing the zipper. How could he not remember that event. It was the pivotal moment his life as kelvin would say the ”Protagonist of the Universe” truly began.

”We made a good team.” Lila glanced back over her shoulder, her pale blue eyes meeting his. ”Still do, I think. Some partnerships just work naturally.”

”All set,” Noah said, stepping back before the moment could develop into something more complicated.

”Thanks.” Lila’s smile was genuine but carried that edge he recognized—the reminder that she was still interested, still making her presence known, still competing for attention even if she’d never phrase it that way.

She headed off toward the showers, leaving Noah standing there with the distinct feeling he’d just navigated a minefield without realizing it until after the fact.

”Smooth,” Diana’s voice came from behind him.

Noah turned to find her leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and that knowing smirk she wore when watching interpersonal drama unfold.

”I was helping with a zipper,” Noah said defensively.

”Sure you were.” Diana’s smirk widened. ”And Seraleth needed three demonstrations of the same technique because she’s just that dedicated to proper teaching methodology.”

”She’s not human. The body mechanics are different.”

”Uh-huh.” Diana pushed off from the wall. ”Just so you know, you’re completely oblivious and it’s hilarious. See you at breakfast.”

She left before Noah could formulate a response.

He stood in the empty training hall for a moment longer, then decided breakfast sounded like a safer location than anywhere his teammates might corner him for conversations he wasn’t ready to have.

---

Sam found Noah halfway through breakfast, weaving between tables in the common area with his tablet clutched like a lifeline.

”We’ve got incoming,” Sam announced. ”New recruits. Five of them, arriving around 1100 hours. They cleared initial screening, passed background checks, demonstrated adequate ability control. Just need final approval from faction leadership.”

”Which means me,” Noah said.

”Which means you,” Sam confirmed. ”I know you’re busy with training and mission prep, but we agreed that founding members would personally meet new recruits. Makes them feel valued, gives us a chance to assess them directly.”

”No, that’s fine. I’ll be there.” Noah checked the time. ”That gives me about two hours. Anything else?”

”Yeah, actually.” Sam’s expression shifted to something like excitement. ”Kelvin finished the first prototype of the broadcasting equipment. He wants to test it on a contract today if possible.”

”Today?” Noah raised an eyebrow. ”That was fast.”

”Apparently he didn’t sleep,” Sam replied. ”Worked through the night, had everything assembled by 0600. Diana found him passed out on his workbench around breakfast time, but he woke up immediately when I mentioned testing it.”

”Is it ready for field deployment?”

”Kelvin says yes. I say probably. The only way to know for sure is to actually use it on a real contract.” Sam pulled up data on his tablet. ”We’ve got three requests that came in this morning. All relatively straightforward, good opportunities for a test run.”

”Show me.”

Sam displayed the contracts. The first was standard beast extermination—Category Two threats in agricultural zones. The second was equipment recovery from an abandoned facility. The third caught Noah’s attention immediately.

”Beast horde,” he read. ”Heading toward faction territory?”

”Not our territory,” Sam clarified. ”Steel Union Faction, operates about eighty kilometers northeast of here. They posted a mutual aid request. Apparently a horde of Category Two and Three beasts got displaced from their normal hunting grounds and are moving toward Steel Union’s base. They’re requesting assistance from any nearby factions willing to help defend.”

”How big is the horde?”

”Estimates range from two to three hundred individual beasts,” Sam replied. ”Mostly herbivores, but enough predators mixed in to make it dangerous. Steel Union has the firepower to handle it, but they’d suffer casualties and property damage without support.”

”And if we help?”

”We build a relationship with an established faction, demonstrate capability, and prove we’re team players rather than territorial assholes.” Sam grinned. ”Plus, defending against a beast horde makes for spectacular broadcasting content. Action, cooperation, clear threat resolution. Exactly the kind of first mission we want going live.”

Noah considered it. A beast horde was dangerous but manageable with proper coordination. Steel Union would have intelligence on approach vectors and composition. Eclipse could provide high-impact support—Noah’s dragons alone could break horde cohesion before they reached defensive positions.

And it would be filmed. Broadcast live to settlements across the eastern territories. Proof that Eclipse Faction delivered on promises without creating more problems than they solved.

”Let’s do it,” Noah decided. ”Contact Steel Union, confirm we’re responding. Get the full team mobilized—founding members plus our ten best recruits. Tell Kelvin his broadcasting equipment is about to get a real-world test.”

Sam’s grin widened. ”This is going to be good.”

---

Two hours later, Noah stood in the faction’s main entrance area as a transport pulled up outside. The five new recruits disembarked with the nervous energy of people entering unfamiliar territory.

Noah recognized the type immediately. They moved like hunters—cautious but confident, scanning their surroundings, identifying exits and defensive positions without conscious thought. People who’d survived long enough in dangerous work to develop instincts.

”Welcome to Eclipse Faction,” Noah said as they entered. ”I’m Noah Eclipse.”

”We know,” one of them replied—a woman in her early thirties with the kind of weathered look that came from years of hard living. ”You’re kind of famous. The dragon guy.”

”Among other things,” Noah agreed. ”What are your names?”

They introduced themselves. The woman was Reyna, former military who’d been discharged for reasons she didn’t elaborate on. Beside her stood two brothers—Martins and Felix—who’d worked as hunters in the outer territories. Then came Jin, a quiet guy with enhanced sensory abilities, and finally Kiera, the youngest at maybe twenty-two, who’d been part of a faction that dissolved after their leadership got killed.

”Why Eclipse?” Noah asked. ”There are plenty of established factions recruiting. Why come to one that’s barely two weeks old?”

”Because you’re different,” Reyna replied bluntly. ”Established factions have politics, hierarchies, all the bullshit that comes with organizations that have been around too long. Eclipse is building something new. We want to be part of that.”

”Plus, rumour has it that you fought a four-horned Harbinger,” Felix added. ”That’s not just reputation, that’s capability. We want to learn from people operating at that level.”

”Fair enough,” Noah said. ”But understand what you’re signing up for. Eclipse Faction doesn’t just handle standard contracts. We take threats other factions won’t touch. Harbingers, high-category beasts, situations where failure means people die. If you’re looking for safe work, we’re not the right fit.”

”If we wanted safe, we wouldn’t be hunters,” Jin said quietly.

Noah studied them for another moment, then nodded. ”Sam will handle the paperwork and get you integrated. Welcome to Eclipse Faction. We deploy in thirty minutes for a beast horde defense. You’re coming with us. Consider it orientation.”

The five new recruits exchanged glances that mixed excitement with nervousness. Exactly the response Noah wanted—people who understood the stakes but weren’t afraid to face them.

As they headed off with Sam, Sophie appeared from one of the side corridors.

”New members already heading into combat?” she asked.

”Best way to assess capability,” Noah replied. ”Plus, we’re about to test Kelvin’s broadcasting equipment. Might as well make their first mission memorable.”

Sophie smiled. ”Kelvin is vibrating with excitement. Diana had to physically stop him from running a pre-mission equipment check for the third time.”

”This is going to be interesting,” Noah observed.

”That’s one word for it.”

They headed toward the deployment bay where the team was gathering. Kelvin had set up his equipment across multiple transport vehicles—drones, cameras, processing units, broadcasting arrays. It looked like he’d built a mobile production studio.

”Alright everyone,” Kelvin announced, addressing the assembled team. ”Here’s how this works. I’ve got autonomous drones that’ll follow pre-programmed flight paths around the combat zone. They’re equipped with stabilized cameras, enhanced optics, and enough shielding to survive near-miss impacts from Category Three attacks.”

He gestured to his tablet where a control interface displayed multiple video feeds.

”I’ll be piloting primary coverage from the command transport, coordinating camera angles, managing what gets broadcast versus what stays internal. Everything goes through a thirty-second delay so I can edit out anything that compromises operational security.”

”What about audio?” Diana asked.

”Your comms are integrated,” Kelvin replied. ”I can select which communication channels get broadcast and which stay private. Tactical discussions stay internal, but general coordination and obvious information goes live so viewers understand what’s happening.”

”This seems complicated,” Marcus observed.

”It’s extremely complicated,” Kelvin agreed cheerfully. ”But I’ve automated most of it. The drones handle their own flight paths, cameras auto-track combat actions, processing filters sensitive data. I’m just directing the show.”

”And people can actually watch this?” Valencia asked. ”Like, right now?”

”Once we go live, yeah.” Kelvin pulled up a public channel interface. ”I’ve set up a streaming platform anyone can access. No subscription, no paywall, just open access. People tune in, watch Eclipse Faction work, see exactly what they’re getting if they hire us.”

”What if we mess up?” Torres asked nervously.

”Then they see us handle mistakes professionally,” Sophie said. ”That’s valuable too. Nobody expects perfection. They expect competence under pressure.”

”Plus,” Kelvin added with a grin, ”if this goes viral like I think it will, we’ll have recruitment opportunities for days. So everybody look good, fight smart, and remember to smile for the cameras.” He paused dramatically. ”Oh, and if you’re enjoying the content, make sure to follow, like, and hit the subscribe button!!”

The team groaned collectively at the shameless plug.

”Too much?” Kelvin asked innocently.

”Way too much,” Diana replied.

”Perfect.”

They loaded into transports, equipment secured, team organized into tactical formations. Noah rode in the command vehicle with Sophie, Kelvin, and the new recruits. Diana led one of the support transports with Seraleth and five experienced members. Lila commanded the third with Valencia’s squad.

The flight to Steel Union territory took forty minutes. Kelvin spent the entire time running system checks, testing camera feeds, configuring broadcast parameters. By the time they arrived, everything was operational.

”We’re going live in five,” Kelvin announced. ”Everyone ready?”

The team confirmed over comms. Noah could feel the nervous energy—this was performance now, not just combat. Settlements across the eastern territories were about to watch Eclipse Faction’s first public operation.

”Broadcasting in three... two... one... we’re live.”