The next morning arrived all too quickly.
I went through my usual routine, but today, there was something different.
Cooking class.
Honestly? I was a little excited.
Cooking in this akademi? How could I not be?
When I arrived at the classroom, I glanced around.
No familiar faces.
Except... one figure sitting alone in the corner.
I glanced briefly but didn't pay much attention.
I headed to an empty workstation.
There was a cutting board, a knife, and a strange-looking device I didn't recognize.
...Was this a magic-powered stove?
Before I could examine it more closely, someone stormed into the room.
An instructor—wearing all white like a royal chef.
"NO NEED FOR INTRODUCTIONS! JUST CALL ME CHEFF! GOT IT?!"
The roar nearly shattered my eardrums.
If Azel were here, he'd probably have flown away already.
'Man... this guy's energy is something else,' I thought, looking around.
Judging by everyone's expressions, I wasn't the only one thinking that.
Cheff pressed a button on the device. A small, controlled blue flame flickered to life.
He demonstrated how to adjust the fire's intensity.
I nodded to myself, making mental notes.
"NOW! MAKE ME THE BEST DISH YOU CAN! IF IT TASTES BAD, YOU'RE OUT!!"
...Excuse me, what?
Was this really a beginner's class?
I broke into a cold sweat.
Still, I racked my brain, trying to remember an old recipe my mom used to make.
Simple beef soup.
I gathered the ingredients—onions, Wafer beef (some local cow equivalent), and herbs.
As I started slicing the onions, I snuck a glance at the other students.
Some were struggling.
Others... were chopping like seasoned chefs.
'Damn... if I tried that speed, I'd lose a finger,' I thought grimly.
Focusing back on my soup, I let it simmer gently.
A savory aroma began to rise from the pot.
...Not bad.
At least I wasn't burning anything yet.
Time passed, and soon enough, it was evaluation time.
One by one, students presented their dishes to Cheff.
That's when I noticed someone familiar.
Elysian—hiding in the back corner, trying not to stand out.
I walked up beside her, lowering my voice.
"You're here too, huh?"
She flinched slightly.
In her hands was a plate of fried rice topped with crispy fish skin.
Wow.
Honestly?
It looked amazing.
Way better than my humble soup.
I felt a pang of insecurity but forced myself to stay positive.
Taste mattered more than appearance... right?
...Nope.
Cheff barely sipped my soup before waving me toward the door.
Not a word.
Just a silent execution.
The shame was real.
Dragging my feet out of the classroom, I sighed heavily.
'I really wanted that magic stove'
Life was cruel.
After the disaster in cooking class, I headed straight for the training field to blow off some steam.
Unfortunately, the field wasn't empty like usual.
Several seniors were already there, dueling in pairs, their swords clashing with sparks.
I hesitated, my steps faltering.
I wasn't fond of crowds.
In fact, I hated them.
Just as I turned to leave quietly—
"Hey!"
A bright, cheerful voice called out.
I didn't even flinch this time.
I was getting used to people popping out of nowhere lately.
"...Hey," I replied awkwardly.
A boy approached me, his golden hair almost glowing under the sun, crimson eyes gleaming with curiosity.
His appearance screamed nobility—probably a high-ranking one at that.
"You're a new student, right? I'm Elnoa," he said casually, without offering a handshake.
Of course. High nobles rarely bothered with such formalities.
"Ren," I answered simply.
Elnoa's gaze drifted to the sword strapped to my side.
A spark of amusement lit his eyes.
"So, Ren," he grinned, "interested in a duel?"
I chuckled awkwardly, already taking a step back.
"Ahaha, I think I'll pass. I'm not exactly... on your level, seniors."
I tried to slip away.
Tried.
But Elnoa caught me with a single sentence.
"How about this—" he said, smiling like a fox, "join us for a duel, and I'll grant you one wish. Anything you want. I'm pretty rich, you know.
I hesitated.
Not attracting attention sounded nice.
But a free magic stove sounded even nicer.
"...Alright, I'm in."
Not exactly a hard decision.
Besides, my reputation was already rock-bottom anyway.
"Hey, guys! He agreed!"
Elnoa shouted toward the others.
Reluctantly, I followed him back to the training field.
There were five students waiting there—mostly guys, with two girls among them.
With Elnoa and me, that made seven.
The moment we arrived, they surrounded me like a pack of curious wolves.
"So this is the kid from yesterday, huh?"
"His body's not bad."
"His hair's a bit messy... and he smells like soup.
Yeah.
I had just come from cooking class.
Give me a break.
"Alright, alright, back off," Elnoa waved them away, laughing.
"Introduce yourselves properly, will you?"
"Alright, everyone. Don't crowd him like he's some kind of rare beast," Elnoa said, waving a hand as if brushing away a swarm of flies. "Introduce yourselves, properly this time."
The first to step forward was a tall guy with messy black hair and a build that suggested he'd broken a few bones in his life — not necessarily his own. His eyes scanned me like he was calculating how long I'd last in a fight.
"Zeke. I don't like small talk. If it's a duel, go all in."
Short. Cold. Efficient. The kind of guy who'd stab first and ask questions after.
Next, a girl with deep ocean-blue hair stepped up, her movements graceful like someone raised in a noble house. Her voice was soft — the kind that lingered in the air like a song.
"Thalia. I usually handle healing… but I don't mind standing at the front lines now and then."
She smiled at me. Warm. Or maybe just professional courtesy. Hard to tell.
Then came a guy with dark brown skin and wild, grayish hair. His expression screamed 'I'd rather be anywhere else.'
"Jude. I'm here 'cause someone paid me. Just kidding. Probably."
He shrugged, like nothing mattered and everything was negotiable.
After him, a short-haired girl with pale pink hair met my eyes. She didn't smile. She didn't speak right away. On her head, two tufts of hair curled into shapes that almost resembled cat ears. One of them twitched — very subtly — as she looked at me.
"Serene."
That was it. One word. Barely audible. No bow, no emotion. Just… a blank stare. But somehow, it felt like I was being watched by a wild cat deciding if I was prey or not.
A red-haired guy grinned like he'd just won a bet.
"Name's Rovan! Don't be fooled by the muscles — I've got brains too, y'know!"
Someone coughed quietly behind him.
"…Mostly good at causing trouble," they muttered.
"Minor detail," Rovan shot back with a loud laugh.
And finally, Elnoa turned to me and gave a polite nod.
"Elnoa von Grenveil. I don't have any titles worth mentioning right now. Nice to meet you, Ren."
His tone was calm. His words measured. No arrogance — just an easy kind of grace. Like someone who knew how to read the room better than dominate it.
And me? I was just Ren. The guy who couldn't even light a magic stove earlier. Surrounded by these dangerous, eccentric seniors… I suddenly felt like I'd stumbled into the wrong story.
"I'm Ren," I said, turning to face them all. "I'm here because of Elnoa's offer."
Rovan crossed his arms, looking me up and down. "You look kind of weak." Then his gaze shifted to Elnoa. "Are you sure this is the same guy from yesterday?"
"Yep," Elnoa replied, casually. "This is him."
Yesterday? What exactly did they see?
"Well then, Ren," Rovan smirked. "Your dear seniors will be more than happy to—uh, mentor you today."
Did he just almost say beat up?
We stood on the wide training grounds, the midday sun casting long shadows across the arena.
I took a deep breath, feeling the familiar weight of the sword in my hand. Not a wooden training blade—real steel. This academy didn't believe in half-measures.
"Alright," Elnoa called out, clapping her hands once. "Which of you wants to go first?"
I expected Zeke to step forward, with that sharp look in his eyes.
Instead—
"Me!"
Rovan grinned widely and slammed his fist into his palm. "Gotta see if this kid's got any backbone!"
I sighed.
'Of course it's him.'
We moved to the center of the field, swords drawn.
No fancy rituals, no ceremony.
"Don't hold back, rookie," Rovan said with a wide grin.
"I won't," I replied, steadying my breathing.
Elnoa called out.
"Begin!"
Rovan charged like a bull, overwhelming strength packed into every step.
But… he was too straightforward.
His swings were heavy but telegraphed, easy to read.
I ducked under his first strike, letting the blade whistle harmlessly overhead. I countered with a light tap to his ribs—enough to make him grunt.
He recovered quickly, coming at me again with a downward cleave meant to split me in two.
I side-stepped neatly, letting my instincts take over.
Years of dodging beasts in the wild—of surviving fatal strikes from things far worse than human—guided my hands.
I pressed the advantage, landing another clean strike across his side.
Rovan stumbled slightly, blinking.
"...Tch. Not bad."
Then I drove the edge of my blade lightly against his throat.
Match over.
"Yield," I said, breathing calmly.
Rovan chuckled, raising his hands.
"Alright, alright! You win, kid!"
Cheers and light laughter came from the sidelines.
But no time to relax.
Zeke stepped forward without a word, drawing his blade. His eyes sharpened—no more friendly smiles, just focus.
This time, there would be no mistakes to exploit.
Elnoa smiled slightly.
"Good luck."
I squared off against Zeke.
He moved the moment Elnoa shouted, "Begin!"
Fast.
Precise.
Each of his strikes was economical, wasting no energy, no movement. It felt less like fighting a bull and more like dueling a trained wolf.
I blocked, parried, sidestepped. My arms shook under the weight of each clash.
We circled each other, trading blows.
No clear advantage.
But little by little, my body began to slow.
Small mistakes. Slight missteps.
Zeke noticed. He pressed harder, forcing me back.
'Focus. Focus. Breathe.'
I waited for one opening—and when it came, I deflected his sword just wide enough and stepped into his guard, placing my blade lightly against his chest.
Zeke froze.
I stared into his eyes.
Cold. Calculating.
But this time… acknowledging.
He nodded once, stepping back.
"Yield."
Another victory.
But I was already breathing heavier.
And then... Serene stepped forward.
Short pink hair, blank black eyes, and that strange movement—her 'cat ears' twitched once as she drew her sword.
No words.
Just a silent challenge.
I steadied myself.
"Begin!"
At first, it felt easy.
Serene's strikes were sharp but readable—like fighting a wild cat that had never truly learned how to hunt. I sidestepped her first thrust, feeling the air brush against my cheek. My sword moved instinctively, parrying, pushing back.
Her expression remained blank, but the fake ears atop her head twitched slightly. Amusement? Annoyance?
I wasn't sure.
Still, I thought—
Maybe I can win this.
The duel dragged on. Our blades clashed again and again, ringing like bells across the empty training ground.
"You're good," I muttered, low enough that only she could hear.
Serene didn't answer. Her 'ears' flicked once more, but she pressed forward, her tempo shifting—faster, less predictable. The lazy patterns she used before vanished like mist, replaced by darting lunges and tight footwork.
I had to step back.
Once. Twice.
Tch… she's adapting.
I tightened my grip and forced myself forward, slashing in a wide arc. She ducked. I tried to feint a low strike—she read it like an open book.
It was around then that I realized it:
My arms were starting to feel heavy. My breathing grew harsher, shallow.
A creeping, biting fatigue that wrapped itself around my muscles like chains.
"Come on..." I whispered to myself.
Serene moved again, quick and graceful. My body screamed at me to stop, but I pushed anyway, counterattacking with a surge of stubbornness.
For a brief, shining moment—I landed a hit.
Not a deep cut, just a glancing blow across her side. She stumbled, half a step back, her 'cat ears' flattening slightly.
The watching seniors stirred. Even Elnoa smiled faintly.
This is it. I can win.
I charged in, reckless, hoping to end it before my strength gave out.
But Serene's eyes—those calm, dark pools—never wavered.
She pivoted at the last moment, using my own momentum against me.
In a blur, my sword was knocked aside, my guard broken.
The next thing I knew—a soft but decisive impact hit my ribs.
I dropped to one knee, gasping.
Serene stood over me, silent. Her blade pointed downward, not touching me, but close enough that I knew.
I had lost.
I forced a crooked grin through the pain.
"I yield," I said hoarsely.
For the first time, just barely, I saw a flicker of respect in Serene's otherwise blank gaze.
I collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily, my arms falling limp at my sides.
"You guys are way too rough with your juniors," I muttered between breaths.
They stared at me.
"You serious, Ren?" Elnoa raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, dude," Revan chimed in, clapping me on the back — way too hard. "You just beat two of us and almost took down Serene!"
The others nodded in agreement.
I let out a long sigh.
"Just luck," I said, waving it off.
They laughed lightly, the tension from the duels quickly melting away. They started chatting among themselves, giving me space to catch my breath.
I leaned back against the ground, feeling the cold seep into my skin.
But then...
A strange sensation brushed against my senses — like someone was watching me.
My body tensed instinctively. I turned my head, scanning the training ground.
Nothing.
Only the familiar faces of my new companions.
"Something wrong, Ren?" Elnoa asked, noticing my glance.
"...No," I replied. "Just felt weird for a second."
He nodded, unconcerned. Maybe it really was just my imagination.
Or maybe it wasn't.
After a few minutes, Elnoa clapped his hands together.
"Oh, right. Ren, you wanna grab a bite with us?" he offered casually.
I thought about it.
Food sounded good... and maybe I could use the chance to ask about the Academy's missions too.
"Sure," I said.
We headed toward the cafeteria, the group chattering among themselves.
Their voices were low and scattered — well, except Revan, who just couldn't shut up to save his life.
Rovan nudged him once or twice, but Revan either didn't notice or didn't care.
Typical.
When we arrived at the cafeteria, it was mostly empty — only a few students lingering around.
And then I saw him.
Akito.
Across the room, he dropped his spoon with a loud clatter the moment he spotted me.
What now?
I narrowed my eyes.
That guy's getting weirder by the day.
I shook it off and followed the others toward an empty table.
For now, food came first.
The cafeteria wasn't crowded, just a handful of students scattered around, hunched over their trays or chatting in small groups.
Warm light from overhead lanterns spilled down across the rows of worn wooden tables, giving the room a cozy, almost homely feel.
The smell of fresh bread, roasted meat, and stewed vegetables lingered in the air, stirring a quiet hunger in my stomach.
Our little group found an empty table near the windows. The chairs creaked as we pulled them out, and I sank into mine with a soft groan, still feeling the weight of the duels in my bones.
Revan, of course, was the loudest.
"Man, did you see his moves? Ren, you're a monster!" he shouted, earning a few glances from nearby students.
Thalia chuckled, covering her mouth politely with one hand.
"You're too loud, Revan."
Jude slumped into his seat, resting his chin on his hand, looking like he might fall asleep at any moment.
Zeke, ever the quiet one, just gave a small nod in my direction—maybe a gesture of approval? Hard to tell with him.
Serene sat across from me, silently nibbling on a piece of bread. Her gaze flickered to me once, calm and unreadable, like a cat watching a mouse from a sunny windowsill.
Meanwhile, Elnoa kept the conversations flowing, asking about favorite dishes at the Academy or gently teasing Jude about his laziness.
It wasn't formal or stiff.
It felt... strangely natural.
Like I'd somehow slipped into a group that didn't mind my presence, even if I was still an outsider in my own mind.
I leaned back in my chair, letting the chatter wash over me, feeling for the first time in a while like maybe I belonged somewhere.
But then, just as I was starting to relax, a sharp prickle ran down my spine.
Like someone was staring at me.
I turned my head—
—but the feeling was already gone.
Just the usual cafeteria scene, nothing out of place.
"Something wrong, Ren?" Elnoa asked, noticing my glance.
I shook my head lightly.
"Nothing. Just... felt strange for a second."
He smiled. "Happens all the time around here."
Before I could think more about it, Revan leaned over the table, grinning.
"Hey, Ren! You up for eating with us more often? You owe us after making us look bad in training!"
I laughed under my breath.
"Sure. I've got questions about the missions here anyway."
"Sweet!" Revan pumped his fist, causing a few students nearby to jump slightly.
As we started eating, the warmth of the food—and the easy rhythm of casual conversation—slowly pulled me in deeper.
For now, I let myself enjoy it.