Chapter Fifty: The Arcane Departments
Daniel arrived at the academy dining hall, a vast building ringed with arched windows through which golden sunlight poured and reflected on white marble floors streaked with veins of gleaming blue stone. The scent of food spread through the air like a warm current drawing you from afar—roasts, fresh bread, and strange spices he had never smelled before.
The hall was exaggeratedly spacious, as if a grand festival had been folded into a room, divided into precisely organized sections with wooden signs hanging above each area indicating its purpose. He saw elegant sections reserved for the academy's masters, with dark-painted walls and plush sofas; areas for upper-level students, decorated with stone statues and levitating magical lamps; and the first-level student section—where he was headed—which was the largest of them all, sprawling across a huge space.
Inside that section, dozens of rows of rectangular tables and polished wooden benches stretched out; each table could seat ten people at once, allowing the dining hall to feed all three thousand first-level students at one time. The clatter of spoons, plates, and conversation echoed like an unceasing human choir, punctuated now and then by loud laughter or calls between friends.
The academy—despite its size—accepted only a very small number of new students each year, not because the requirements were impossibly hard, but because the fees were exorbitant. Three gold coins just to start—an amount that might seem trivial to some wealthy families—served to exclude most village children. After entry, every discipline required additional hefty fees. Fortunately Daniel now had abundant money, or he would have ended up in a far lesser institution.
He had also learned that information in the kingdom was monopolized, especially the knowledge every Eira user must know, so he resolved that he must enter the academy to acquire those vital lessons. Of course, there were many illicit places where he could have obtained information, but he avoided them first because of the danger, and second because their reliability was questionable.
Daniel sat at one of the wooden tables, its surface smoothed by constant use. A young attendant wearing a white apron and the academy badge approached with a friendly smile and placed a menu printed on thick, dark paper before him—coarse to the touch but elegant, smelling faintly of fresh ink.
Daniel was surprised by the organization and service, thinking that students who had come from his world before probably left their mark here and perhaps altered its ways. He flipped through the pages and found dishes he had never seen, despite frequenting many taverns in the kingdom.
After a moment's hesitation he chose two fantastical vegetarian options: a plate of "Moonlight Salad," its leaves faintly glowing with a soft blue light, and a bowl of "Soulblossom Broth," a clear soup with petals floating slowly and giving off a calming scent. He added a half of traditional roast chicken and a glass of a fabled drink called "Star Nectar," a cold, shimmering blue beverage dotted with tiny glowing bubbles that burst like miniature stars. He wondered about the person who named these dishes (and whether that person was still in work).
The server nodded and took the order, while Daniel's thoughts wandered.
(If those who transferred before me changed this place for the better, I hope that if I travel to an advanced kingdom I'll find a comfortable room, a proper bath, and a decent kitchen… Ah, I really wish someone would invent a proper computer here!)
He pulled out the sheet that came with the academy map and read it again. It was a price list for enrollment in the various tracks:
Magic & Skills: 10 gold coins per year. (A blatant robbery… do they think people plant coins at night and harvest gold in the morning?!)
Blacksmithing: 9 gold coins per year. (They pretend they steal less than the magic thieves!)
Alchemy: 7 gold coins per year. (Good, at least they didn't say eight.)
Research: 7 gold coins per year. (They didn't even bother to drop the price.)
Library: 3 gold coins per year. (The best of them—still a rip-off.)
Daniel smirked sarcastically. He thought, "Magic is essential, the library is important… and since I'm rich now, why not try them all? Learn everything I can. Whatever the outcome, it's the best choice."
The server returned and set his dishes before him. The Moonlight Salad glowed quietly like a sliver of sky; the Soulblossom Broth's petals drifted slowly, releasing a warm herbal aroma. The half-chicken smelled of spices and crisp fat; the Star Nectar looked like a liquid jewel in his hand.
He ate, and the Moonlight Salad delighted him—fresh, cool, with a faint mint aftertaste. The Soulblossom Broth, however, made him recoil after the first sip; it tasted bitter in an unnatural way, as if someone had pressed poisonous roots into the stock. He smiled bitterly, marked it as a dish to avoid, and finished the chicken and Star Nectar.
When he finished, Daniel wiped his mouth with a thick linen napkin, set the empty glass on the table, and rose calmly to head toward the academy's central complex. The complex loomed like a landmark, visible from a distance like a legendary fortress overlooking the academy grounds.
From the outside the central complex was a massive stone structure, its walls formed of polished grey blocks, its large windows framed in copper that flashed in the sunlight. The front doors were huge oak panels studded with large iron nails; above them, a stone arch bore the academy's emblem: a five-pointed star encircled by a ring of mysterious arcane symbols.
In front of the complex stretched a breathtaking garden, divided by white marble pathways branching left and right and bordered by rare blooms—some of which glowed at night, others releasing a refreshing scent as one passed. Tall trees with silver leaves surrounded the grounds, and in the center a luxurious fountain spiraled water into small helixes, dancing with the wind. Students strolled the garden—some reading as they walked, others practicing small spells among the flowers.
Daniel passed through the gigantic gate into the complex and found himself in the great entrance hall: a towering chamber whose ceiling was painted with scenes of legendary battles between mages, walls trimmed with gilded bands and stone tablets carved with the names of the academy's great alumni. The marble floor reflected the light of crystal chandeliers that hung from above, casting a soft white glow across the hall.
Rows of reception desks lined the right and left sides of the hall, each staffed by officials in the academy's uniform, armed with large ledgers and metal seals. Students queued before the counters to submit applications for different disciplines, exchanging conversation in tones of excitement or anxiety.
Daniel approached a vacant desk—fortunate, for most were crowded—and placed the star-badged token with the number (1) on the desk, saying:
— "I want to apply to all departments."
The clerk raised his eyebrows in surprise and regarded Daniel for a long moment before asking:
— "All departments?"
It was rare for anyone to apply to study every subject at the academy; even noble families generally limited their scions to magic and skills as a mark of status. Daniel, dressed plainly and bearing no noble sigil, looked like a merchant's son seeking elevation through fame, so the clerk presumed he hailed from a wealthy commercial household.
The clerk took the name "Eren" and his age, scribbled a few particulars into the application, and informed him the total would be 35 gold coins—there was a special discount for registering in all fields. Daniel produced the gold, deliberately not withdrawing it from his spatial ring, and paid, muttering in his mind with irony: (What a marvelous discount…)
Moments later the clerk handed him five different badges:
The brown badge: embossed with a stack of books, the uppermost open—symbolizing the Library.
The black badge: bearing a hammer striking metal and sending sparks—symbolizing Blacksmithing.
The green badge: showing a test tube amid strange herbs—symbolizing Alchemy.
The blood-red badge: marked with a clawed sigil within a vial—symbolizing Research and Experiments.
The white badge: featuring a flaming orb—symbolizing Magic & Skills.
Each badge was precisely two centimeters square, crafted from gleaming metal and finely engraved, giving them the look of tokens more precious than mere entry passes.
After finishing registration, D
aniel left the central complex and headed toward the student residences.