Chapter 27: Vipers
A sharp clap echoed through the foyer.
"Alright, kids!" Headmaster Agatha's voice rang out. "Everyone except the newly admitted students, return to your classes and continue your work."
With that, the older students—second-years and beyond—dispersed into the corridors, their footsteps echoing against the stone floor. Within moments, only about a hundred first-year students remained, their eyes drawn to the red-haired headmaster who stood at the top of the staircase.
"Now," she continued, descending the stairs with a purposeful stride, "before you're sent to your classrooms, you'll need to choose your path. Follow me."
Elizabeth followed close behind, silently gesturing for the students to trail after them. The group moved in unison down a long corridor, passing several classrooms before entering a large training hall. Wooden dummies lined the stone walls, and racks of weapons stood in orderly rows—each crafted from enchanted wood, glinting under the skylight.
Agatha turned to face them. "I'll call your names one by one. When I do, you step forward, choose a weapon, and select a Pathway. Over there—" she pointed to a section of weapons laid out a few meters away, "—you'll find what you need."
A pale-skinned girl with sharp features raised her hand. Her voice was clear but hesitant.
"Headmaster... do we have to choose a Pathway? I want to become a Wizard."
"Oh?" Agatha grinned, intrigued. "Ambitious already, are you?"
She walked a few steps closer to the students, her tone becoming instructive.
"To become a Wizard, physical strength is essential. It's the vessel that holds the elemental energy within you. Without it, engraving the Elemental Circlet Technique into your body becomes a battle between body and soul. And trust me—if your body isn't prepared, the backlash can cripple your progress or worse, destroy your spell model."
She paused as she noticed the puzzled looks on many faces, then chuckled.
"But that's a lesson for another day. For now, just remember this: select your Pathway wisely, and pick the weapon that resonates with you. Once chosen, you won't be allowed to switch for the next year."
She glanced down at her notebook. "Alan."
A tall boy stepped forward.
"First, your Pathway," Agatha said. "Your options are: 1—Knight, 2—Warrior, 3—Assassin, and 4—Ranger."
Alan hesitated only a moment. "I choose Warrior, ma'am."
"Hm. I thought you'd pick Knight," Agatha murmured, then moved on. "Weapon of choice: 1—Broadsword, 2—Gauntlets, 3—Shield, 4—War Hammer, 5—Axe, 6—Spear."
"Broadsword," Alan replied without pause. He strode forward and retrieved the weapon.
"Next. Jean."
A black-haired girl stepped up.
"Pathway?"
"Ranger, ma'am."
"Ranger? Limited options for that. 1—Bow and Arrow. 2—Daggers and throwing knives. We recommend—"
Before she could finish, Jean had already picked up a bow and quiver.
One by one, the students were called. Some chose quickly, others tested weapons for several minutes before deciding. The air buzzed with nervous energy and youthful excitement.
Then—
"Raven!"
Raven stepped forward and stood tall before the Headmaster.
"I choose the Knight Pathway, ma'am."
Agatha raised an eyebrow. "Following your sister's footsteps, are you? That's not a bad thing."
She smiled. "Now, weapon of choice. I'd recommend the longsword—it suits the Knight Pathway well."
Raven looked toward the table, then asked, "May I try the weapons first, ma'am?"
Agatha's brows rose in surprise. Elizabeth, watching silently from behind, narrowed her eyes with interest.
"You may," Agatha replied.
Raven picked up the longsword first. He attempted slashes and thrusts. His movements were awkward and imprecise, lacking rhythm or comfort.
"No," Agatha said, her voice thoughtful. "You've no natural feel for it. That's not your weapon."
Unbothered, Raven tried the bow next. His draw was weak, and the string twanged awkwardly. A few students chuckled.
He ignored them, returning the bow. Then, his hand reached for the spear.
He gripped it with familiarity—he'd studied the Wintermoon Spear Dance in theory. He mimicked the grip, then tried basic thrusts and arcs.
Agatha observed closely. "Hmm. Better. Not perfect, but the spear fits your movements more naturally."
She jotted down his choices in her notebook.
"Chris," she called next.
Chris chose the Ranger Pathway and selected a bow and arrows without hesitation.
"Mary chose Spear, too," he said as he approached Raven.
Raven nodded. "What about Dennis?"
"Assassin Pathway," Chris replied, glancing toward a distant group. "He picked dual daggers. Looks like he's already joined the noble kids' circle."
Raven's eyes narrowed. Dennis... swordsmanship genius, wasn't he? Should I say something? But then he recalled an earlier conversation—and stayed silent.
Agatha continued the selection process. After all names were called, she addressed the group again.
"Classes will now be assigned based on your Pathways. Class 1A—Knights. 1B—Assassins. 1C—Warriors. 1D—Rangers. Proceed to your respective classrooms."
"What?" Chris exclaimed, startled. "We're not in the same class?"
"We'll still see each other during breaks, right?" Raven offered with a smile. "Let's go. I'm curious about the basic training manual they'll give us."
The two parted ways at the corridor junction.
"Mine's 1D. Yours should be 1A," Chris said, pointing to the farthest classroom.
"See you soon," Raven gave a thumbs-up.
Then, Chris leaned in and whispered, "Be careful around a kid named Scott... and his friends."
"Scott?" Raven frowned. "Who's that?"
"Rumor is, his family's tied to the Vipers—one of the three richest families in Darkcross Town."
Raven froze.
The word Vipers wasn't just a rumor to him—it was a childhood fear. Parents whispered that name to warn kids about strangers, about wandering off at night. To him, the Vipers were nightmares.
"I thought they were made-up stories," he muttered.
Chris shook his head. "No, they're real. An underground syndicate. Drug distribution, assassinations, theft... They operate across the Empire. Official members are ghosts, hidden. They use middlemen—Black Merchants and gang leaders—to distribute their drugs. Even if someone gets caught, the core remains untouched."
Raven's thoughts drifted to his sister.
"She's been chasing drug rings for years... even brought down corrupt officials involved." He nodded with new understanding. "Thanks. I'll be careful."
With that, the two boys separated.
Raven arrived at Class 1A and pushed open the door. Rows of desks stretched before him. The air was filled with curious glances and hushed whispers.
He walked toward the back row, aiming for a seat by the wall—but it was already occupied. He settled for the desk one row ahead.
"That seat's taken."
The voice was cold, arrogant, childish, but commanding.
Raven turned. A blonde-haired boy with square features and blood-red eyes glared at him. He was chubby, tall, and radiated entitlement.
"And you are?" Raven asked calmly.
The boy didn't respond. Just stared.
"He's Scott Morris," another voice said from the front.
Mary.
Scott smirked. "Not scared of the name?"
"Why would I be?" Raven replied. "You're just a student like me."
The smugness vanished for a moment. Scott's friends stirred behind him, ready to speak up—but Raven turned away, smiling at Mary instead.