I found an abandoned practice yard—no witnesses. Perfect.
Then I swung. Again and again. No forms, no footwork—just raw muscle and frustration. Sparks skittered off the blade; frost‑crisp grass flew in clumps. Minutes bled away until my lungs burned and the anger drained out with each breath.
'Why do I keep caring about everyone else's lives? They're practically strangers.
Why wasn't I strong enough to stop it sooner?'
Master's voice echoed in memory—"Strength without restraint is just another beast." I exhaled.
"I wish you were here, Master…"
The training field was empty now—late‑afternoon sun stretching long, lonely shadows across trampled grass. I sat in the center, arms draped over my knees, replaying every swing of Akito's sword and every ragged breath Nix had taken.
A bell rang in the distance. Lunch break
I grabbed the quickest thing in the cafeteria—a plain sandwich—and escaped to the oak‑lined garden behind the dorms. A single massive tree guarded the pond; its shade felt like neutral territory.
Maybe I overreacted.
The thought tasted bitter, but it was there.
Halfway through the sandwich, I tore off the remaining piece and tossed it toward a pair of blackbirds squabbling in the grass. They scattered, then returned, chirping warily before snatching the crumbs.
Lucky them. They didn't need to worry about rankings or egos.
By the time I made it to Magic Theory, the room felt… tight. Elysian absent. Nix absent. Every other seat taken by students with too many opinions. I slid into mine and fixed my gaze on the window.
Whispers floated around me:
"Heard Nix is still out—poor guy."
"Akito's form was incredible, though."
"Ren should've minded his own business."
Let them talk. None of them had been close enough to see the fear in Nix's eyes.
Gaius strode in, chalk in hand, and began dissecting spell matrices. I forced myself to listen. I might never sling fireballs, but understanding the blueprint meant knowing how to break them—Grandmaster prerequisite, according to Master.
Graduate, get stronger, keep people alive. Simple roadmap.
Classes ended with the sun sliding west. I headed for the massive cork board outside the administrative wing—every elective listed for next 2 days.
• General Studies (world law,History of demigod & How important Class is)
• Beast Taming: Foundational Commands
• Culinary Arts for Adventurers
Culinary? I tapped the parchment, shrugged, and copied the schedule. Couldn't hurt to learn how to spice up wyvern jerky.
Dusk. The corridors bathed in amber light, the fading glow casting long shadows across the stone walls. I paused outside my dorm block, my gaze drifting toward the doors of the elites. Elysian's was two down, and Aetheria's—well, who knew if she even used it?
A soft, uncertain voice broke the silence behind me.
"Hey..."
I flinched. The third time today. I turned around to see Iris —her silver hair catching the last of the light, golden eyes carefully avoiding mine as if not to stare too hard.
"You keep sneaking up on me," I said, raising an eyebrow.
She laughed, a quiet, musical sound that lingered in the air. "Sorry. Um... I wanted to introduce myself properly this time." She extended her hand, a slight tremor betraying her otherwise composed appearance. "I'm Iris Valevor. I'd like us to be friends."
I took her hand, my grip steady. "Ren. Friends sounds good."
Her smile brightened, the tension in her shoulders easing as relief washed over her. "Great. Then… see you tomorrow. Let's both survive, okay?" She gave a small wave before disappearing into her room.
I stood there for a moment, watching the door close behind her. Then, a faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I turned the key to my own.
Maybe, I thought, as the hallway lights dimmed.
'a few people here are worth protecting after all.'
The door shut behind me, and for the first time since morning, my shoulders felt a little lighter.
Morning came without warning.
I got out of bed, ready to begin my routine. But before I could reach the door, my eyes landed on a piece of paper lying on the floor—slipped in through the gap beneath the door, probably.
A schedule.
[Official Notice: Azureus Academy Schedule and Mission System]
Dear Students,
Welcome to Azureus Academy. Below is the official schedule and mission system that will be in effect starting this week:
• Weekly Schedule:
Days 1–4:
Mandatory Lessons and Optional Additional Classes.
Day 5-7
Club Activities (Optional) Or Missions and Field Expeditions.
• About Missions and Azure Valor Shards:
Missions/Expeditions must be undertaken in small parties (up to 4 students) and are designed to hone teamwork and real-world capabilities.
Upon completion, participants will be awarded Azure Valor Shards—small, pale-blue crystals signifying achievement.
Azure Valor Shards can be exchanged for:
Combat equipment, magical items, or access to premium academy facilities.
Upgrades to dormitory rooms (such as expanding your living space or adding private amenities).
Special meals at the academy cafeteria.
Monetary exchange (optional; useful for students who require additional funds).
• Notes:
Shards are personal and non-transferable outside of official academy channels.
Students who accumulate a large number of shards will receive special consideration in the final annual ranking.
We encourage all students to make the most of your time and resources.
May you become the shining pillars of the future.
Sincerely,
The Azureus Academy Administration.
Still holding the paper, I tossed it onto the desk and left the room. Today, I deliberately arrived a little later than usual—no reason to sit through pointless chatter or early morning gossip.
As expected, the classroom was already filling up when I stepped in.
Elysian was here.
Nix was not.
I sat in my seat. We were next to each other, Elysian and I, but we didn't exchange a single word. It was as if she understood me well enough not to force anything.
Then, the door creaked open again.
And he walked in.
"Name's Orc Candisari."
An old man stepped inside, leaning slightly on a worn wooden cane. His frame was thin—almost too fragile to stand—but the way his eyes scanned the room...
'So it's true. He's the instructor here. He's more suited to be the head of this academy. '
Sharp. Cold. Calculated.
Far too alert for someone that aged.
White hair hung down over one shoulder, messy but untouched, like he hadn't looked in a mirror in years. His clothes were simple, but his presence alone silenced the class.
He smiled.
"Don't let the name fool you. I'm very much human," he said, as if reading our thoughts. "My parents had a sense of humor."
A few students laughed awkwardly. I didn't.
"I'll keep this short. You kids ever wonder why even the best mages and knights struggle with mana?"
He hobbled toward the chalkboard, moving slower than most instructors—but there was something controlled in each of his steps. Not weakness. Caution.
Or maybe… experience.
He raised a piece of chalk and started sketching rough diagrams—two human figures. One marked 'Knight,' the other 'Mage.' Then, he drew jagged lines across their bodies, converging around the chest area.
"The answer's simple. Mana burns.
No matter how strong you are—Grandmaster or Archmage—you're always at war with your own core. Internal damage. Corruption. Even death."
The class quieted, completely focused now.
"But recently, new research has begun. Studies into the human body. Experiments aiming to synchronize mana and flesh—so that we stop hurting ourselves just to get stronger."
He tapped the diagrams twice with his cane.
"Imagine it. No side effects. No mana poisoning. Just power, raw and clean. Think that's exciting?"
His lips curled into a faint grin.
Then… he looked at me.
Just a flicker. A flash of his eyes locking with mine. And then it was gone.
He turned back to the board, drew another figure. Not a knight. Not a mage.
Just… a blank human outline. No markings. No labels.
"This—this is what the future looks like," he said. "Someone who can wield mana not like a sword or shield, but like breath. As natural as blood through veins."
He circled the figure's chest, then drew smooth, flowing lines from head to toe.
"The key isn't raw power. That's what barbarians chase.
The key is compatibility. Adaptation.
Mana isn't a tool — it's a parasite that turns symbiotic if you're smart enough."
He set down the chalk and began walking again — but this time, slower. Like he was savoring his own thoughts.
"Your bodies are fighting you. Every time you chant, swing, enhance, recover—your core is eroding.
And you think the solution is more training? Stronger spells? Better gear?"
He stopped at the edge of the classroom and tapped his temple.
"No. The solution… is to reshape the vessel."
A quiet murmur rippled through the class.
"One student last year tried to reinforce his heart with binding spells. He thought he could filter the mana. You know what happened?"
He raised a single, bony finger.
"He lasted four minutes before he burst into flames."
Silence.
"Another student rewired her nerve system using elemental arrays.
For a while, she could cast without fatigue. Incredible talent.
But her brain stopped recognizing the concept of pain.
She bled out in her sleep."
He let those words settle.
"These are not just horror stories. These are warnings.
You're playing with something that does not care if you're prodigies or peasants."
Then he turned, facing the class directly for the first time.
"That's why I'm here. To show you how to survive.
Not thrive. Not conquer.
Survive."
His voice was flat, absolute.
"Because every mage here is a ticking clock. And every knight is a lit fuse."
Then — he smiled again. But it wasn't cold this time. It was… oddly genuine.
"But if you listen — really listen — you might just live long enough to matter."
A student near the back raised a shaky hand.
"P-Professor… what do we have to do?"
Orc Candisari's eyes flicked to him. Then to the rest of us.
"You adapt.
You let go of what you think you know.
And you stop treating mana like a weapon, and start treating it like a second heart."
He walked back to the board, picked up the chalk, and wrote three words in large, precise strokes:
"Balance. Flow. Ownership."
"Those who master these three," he said quietly, "can bend the world without breaking themselves."
He dropped the chalk.
Class ended five minutes early.
No one moved. No one spoke.
And me?
I was still staring at those three words.
I stayed seated for a second longer, my mind lingering on that stare.
Was that a warning?
A recognition?
Or just paranoia?
I exhaled slowly.
Whatever it was… it didn't matter. I still had the rest of the day ahead of me.
Next class: General Studies.
And I already knew who I'd see there.
General Studies took place in a smaller hall—wide windows, polished floor, and desks arranged in tiers. It looked more like a small theater than a classroom.
I walked in quietly, scanning the room.
Akito was here.
So was Iris.
I picked a seat far from them, settling in without a word. No need to attract attention.
The instructor entered soon after, a young woman with rectangular glasses and a tight bun. She held a stack of scrolls, but her tone was crisp and to the point.
"In this kingdom," she began, "as most of you know, we divide our military roles by Class. Knights, Mages, Scouts, Summoners… each with their own advancement path."
She turned to the board, flicking her fingers. A sigil flared, projecting a magical diagram into the air.
"For example:
Knights evolve through physical and spiritual milestones. Elite Knights are often those who meditate with mana and consume high-mana beast cores.
Mages ascend by pushing the limits of their spells. An Archmage must elevate at least two spells to mid-tier or above. Not easy."
A few students whispered quietly.
"But there is one Class," she paused, her tone shifting, "that stands outside the system."
The projection flickered.
Demigod.
The word glowed faintly in gold across the air.
"This is not a class one applies for. Nor is it given through merit. The Demigod class chooses you. A fragment—ancient, divine—decides your worth. You do not become Demigod. You are accepted. Or you are not."
I sat still, eyes narrowed.
So it's real.
Not a title. Not just political flair.
Demigods were chosen… by something beyond human reach.
And Ren—the past version of me—never knew that.
He thought Demigod was just a name.
Wrong again.
When class ended, I lingered for a moment. The rest filtered out—Akito and Iris included. I didn't follow. Not yet.
Eventually, I stood.
"Faster than I expected," I muttered to myself, heading for the next class: Beast Taming.
It was located deeper in the Academy grounds, not in a regular classroom.
Instead, I stepped into a hidden passage—old stone walls, dimly lit—and emerged into something I didn't expect.
A garden.
Vibrant. Lush. Too vibrant for something indoors.
Flowers I didn't recognize bloomed under artificial sunlight. Small creatures darted between the hedges. I stood there for a while, just staring.
...I'd explored most of the Academy.
Or so I thought.
But this place—this greenhouse, this world tucked inside a wall—I'd never seen it.
No signs. No guards. Just quiet.
Apparently, I was the first one here.
No instructor. No students.
Just me.
And the sound of leaves swaying gently in still air.
It was peaceful.
Unfamiliar, but peaceful.
'..So this is where they teach us to tame monsters?'
A silhouette appeared out of nowhere.
A man—taller than any instructor I'd seen before. Two meters, maybe more. His broad frame practically blocked the hallway light.
He grinned down at me. "Hey, my student. Interested in beast taming?"
He should've already known why I was here.
"Yes, sir," I replied calmly.
"Hahaha!" His booming laugh rattled the walls. I didn't cover my ears, but it was... mildly unpleasant.
Just then, the door creaked open again, and more students started trickling in.
Akito and Aetheria among them. Ten others followed behind.
Not bad. A decent turnout.
One student caught my eye. He was carrying a Sonic Bat—one of the rarer species. Their screeches could rupture eardrums if provoked. I knew that firsthand. Memories of a bloody battle against a swarm of them flickered across my mind.
But this one... was tame. Interesting.
The towering instructor thumped his chest proudly. "Name's Proya. I'm your beast taming instructor. Today, you'll all have the chance to form a contract with a beast."
He grinned, eyes glinting.
Instructor Proya pulled out a thick, shimmering scroll from his coat.
The parchment glowed faintly with runic inscriptions that I couldn't decipher.
He held it up for all of us to see.
"Listen well," he said, voice dropping to a more serious tone.
"To form a true contract, you'll need two things: blood and a Contract Scroll."
He unfurled the scroll with a sharp flick of his wrist.
"These scrolls aren't cheap. Consider this a gift from the Academy. Abuse it, and you won't get another."
Murmurs rippled through the students.
Some clutched the scrolls they received like precious treasures.
I caught Akito smirking at the corner of my eye. Aetheria, however, studied her scroll intently, as if memorizing every line.
"The stronger the beast, the more blood it demands.
The more unruly the spirit, the heavier the burden on your mind."
Proya's eyes darkened.
"Fail, and you'll either lose your blood... or your soul."
The room quieted immediately.
I looked down at my own scroll.
The surface was unnervingly warm, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. It felt alive.
Instructor Proya clapped his hands.
In response, several large cages were wheeled into the hall, each one containing a different beast.
Some of them were massive, their heavy breathing echoing against the metal bars.
Others were small—almost cute, like harmless pets.
The contrast was... strange, to say the least.
We were given the freedom to approach and choose.
I hesitated.
Small, adorable ones—perfect for mages.
Large, feral ones—better for frontline combatants.
Hard choice.
Then I spotted it.
A crow.
Jet-black feathers, violet eyes that shimmered like gemstones. It perched awkwardly in the corner, a small injury on its wing.
The decision was instant.
I pressed the tip of my dagger into my finger again—deeper this time.
The blood dripped onto the Contract Scroll first, not directly onto the beast.
As soon as my blood touched the parchment, the scroll shivered in my hand.
It burned, the runes lighting up in a sickly purple glow.
Tendrils of magic slithered out from the scroll, snaking toward the crow.
For a second, the crow stiffened, its feathers bristling as if electrified.
It stared at me.
Violet eyes locked onto mine.
Challenge?
Fear?
Maybe a little of both.
The magic tendrils latched onto the crow, binding it with thin threads of shimmering light.
The scroll pulsed harder in my grip—demanding more.
I pressed my bleeding finger harder against the parchment.
The blood soaked into it greedily.
A faint voice, like a whisper inside my head, brushed against my consciousness.
"Accept... or perish..."
Charming.
I didn't flinch.
The crow didn't either.
For a breathless moment, nothing happened.
Then—
With a sharp cry, the crow bowed its head.
The threads of magic wrapped around its small body, sinking into its feathers until they disappeared.
The scroll in my hand burst into ash.
Gone.
Contract complete.
I wiped my bloody finger on my pants—because clearly, I was a model of hygiene—and gently picked up the crow.
It didn't resist.
Instead, it climbed shakily onto my shoulder.
A bond had been formed.
Weak for now, but it was there.
I gave a lopsided grin.
"Guess you're stuck with me now."
The crow cawed softly, almost like a sigh of resignation.
Smart bird.
We gathered back around Instructor Proya.
He scanned the beasts we'd bonded with.
Akito had chosen a golden eagle.
Of course.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Wow, he contracted a Golden Eagle...!"
"Amazing! That's a top-tier beast!"
Lunareth had once told me: Golden Eagles were symbols of strength, pride, and nobility. They weren't just rare—they were living trophies.
Instructor Proya beamed with approval, clapping Akito on the back.
But Akito didn't bask in the praise. He turned slightly—and locked eyes with me.
There it was.
That arrogant glint.
I ignored him and continued petting my crow.
'You're cooler anyway,' I thought, glancing at the bird proudly sitting on my shoulder.
"Hey, Ren," a voice chirped beside me.
Aetheria.
She stood there, cradling a white snake in her arms, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I blinked, caught off guard.
Seriously, I needed to get used to people popping up out of nowhere.
"Hey, Aetheria," I replied, a beat late.
Her eyes lit up like she just won the lottery. "You remembered my name!"
I gave her a sheepish smile, scratching the back of my head.
Before I could say anything else, a shadow loomed over us.
Instructor Proya.
'Why is everyone crowding me today…' I sighed internally.
He peered at my crow with a curious look, reaching out—only for the bird to snap at his fingers.
"Whoa. Feisty little guy," he chuckled, pulling his hand back. "I like it."
He moved on to Aetheria, but the moment his gaze landed on the snake in her arms, his expression shifted.
"A white snake..." he muttered. Then louder, "That's a Sacred Joys!"
The crowd swarmed toward Aetheria like moths to a flame, and before I knew it, I was shoved to the back.
Just as I was about to retreat completely, a ripple of motion caught my eye.Something slipped loose from the line of beasts.
I reacted instantly, hand dropping to my sword.
It was a beast—a bull-like creature, muscles coiled and frothing with rage.
Before I could move, someone else stepped in.
Akito.
"Leave it to me, NPC," he said smoothly, summoning magic into his hands.
NPC?
I stared for a second.
I had no idea what that meant, but whatever. If he wanted the glory, he could have it.
I slid my sword back into its sheath and turned toward the others.
"By the way," I said casually, walking past a group of stunned students, "one of the beasts escaped. Might want to look alive."
Heads turned just in time to see Akito pin the beast down with an elegant spell.
The cheers were immediate.
"He's amazing!"
"So cool! I wanna marry him!"
I tuned them out—until the whispers shifted.
"...But that other guy just stood there?"
"Yeah, he totally bailed."
"Traitor."
I sighed.
'Yeah, yeah. No matter what I do, it's always the same.'
Aetheria slipped back to my side, her voice low and clear.
"Akito's impressive... but he's not as cool as you were that night."
I let a small smile slip before I quickly masked it.
"That night was just... luck," I said. "I'm not a hero."
Then, without warning, Aetheria reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly.
"Hehe. I don't care. You're my hero."
The crow on my shoulder gave a sharp, indignant caw, as if protesting the sudden intimacy.
I blinked down at our locked hands, caught between Aetheria's bright smile and my bird's jealous squawking.
Meanwhile, I could feel the weight of a dozen stares drilling into my back—
Instructor Proya. The students.
I let out a slow, weary breath.
'Guess the rumors are about to get even worse.'
The beast suddenly broke free again.
Akito's spell, which had looked so majestic before, shattered just like that.
The ground rumbled.
Dust exploded into the air. Students screamed.
I instinctively moved to step forward, but before I could, a heavy voice rang out.
"Ahem.
Instead of flirting in the middle of the field... maybe you two could help Akito?"
I froze.
'Flirting…?'
Only then did I realize—
I was still holding Aetheria's hand.
Or rather, she was still tightly gripping mine.