Acno's POV
My parents never truly cared for me. I always had to follow behind them, unnoticed. Whenever I wanted something, they just said:
"When you grow up, you won't need this stuff."
Sure, there's a point in that—but no parent should treat their child like that. Real parents care. Real parents try to give their children a good childhood.
This school… it's my opportunity. A chance to chase after my dreams. A way to level up my skills. Maybe even a path toward the life I've always wanted.
In the past, I dreamed of becoming a royal knight. But everything changed the moment I learned about the path of the assassins. Assassins are rare nowadays—almost extinct. No one has ever fully completed the path. Completion is only acknowledged once someone reaches level 100. But after that… the prestige system comes into play.
Once you hit level 100, you gain the chance to start over—from level 1. However, your damage output is doubled. So, for example, if a skill originally dealt 6 damage, after prestiging it would deal 12. And of course, leveling up skills increases their power even further. There are many ways to grow stronger.
But there's a cost to prestige. After cycling through this process five times, one of two things can happen:You either become a master of the path—or the system devours your sanity, and you go insane.
A noble from the Kiyo family once went down this path. The result? His entire neighborhood was reduced to ashes. One of the Ten Royal Knights had to personally intervene—he decapitated him on the spot.
Still, it's important to understand: you can't just choose to become an assassin immediately. The path has steps. First, you must become a thief, then a fence, and so on. The government doesn't even know whether "assassin" is the final form of the path—or just another stage.
Anyway, I have to hurry. The presentation will begin soon.
Before entering the assembly hall, I noticed a large crowd moving toward the first, second, and third floors. I decided to go all the way up—to the third.
From there, I finally had a full view of the hall's marvelous architecture. The walls were adorned with red and gold patterns. A heavy crimson curtain hung from the ceiling, hiding the stage from the audience. Massive, ornate columns stood proudly on each side, holding up the structure with elegance and strength.
After a short wait, the lights dimmed slightly. The curtain began to rise.
A woman—probably in her fifties—stepped onto the stage. She smiled warmly and addressed the crowd.
"It's a pleasure to meet every one of you. I would like to thank everyone who helped with the preparations for this banquet."
"But anyway, let's begin with the key themes of the upcoming school year. This year, we're welcoming a remarkable number of 500 new students—which, I must say, is a milestone no other school has yet achieved..."
Lame. That's what I thought. Most of the presentation was pretty dull.
But a few things stood out.
The focus this year would be on sociality—an unusually rare theme for a school like this. Even more interesting was the class distribution.
Each class would have two main teachers—designated as the primary contacts for any issues. The student body was divided evenly: 125 students per class.
And then came the most exciting part.
Every six months, the school would host an inter-class contest. The theme changes every time—but the director announced the upcoming one:
A fighting tournament.