Noah walked through the marble halls of Class 1's academic wing, his steps quiet and unhurried. In his hand, he flipped open his bronze pocket watch.
8:55 a.m.
Five minutes early.
He snapped it shut and slipped it into his coat as he reached the classroom door.
It was already crowded.
The lecture hall descended in a semi-circle of rows, each seat arranged with clean desks and unobstructed views of the front platform. At the bottom stood a large chalkboard and a polished wooden desk—empty for now. The morning sunlight poured in from the high windows, casting warm light across the backs of students still settling in.
Noah scanned the room. Most seats were filled.
Except one.
Roughly in the middle row, near the center, sat a girl with bright green hair streaked with yellow. She looked calm, composed, but distant—hands folded neatly on the desk.
There was a free seat beside her.
Noah made his way down the steps and stopped next to her row.
"Hey, is this seat taken?"
She glanced at him, eyes amber and unreadable.
"No. You can have it if you want."
He slid into the chair beside her, adjusting the strap of his coat.
Then offered a hand, tone casual but sincere.
"Noah. Nice to meet you."
She looked at the hand for a second, then shook it.
"Amelie Ardean."
The murmurs started almost immediately.
Whispers spread across the rows like a ripple on water.
"Did you see that?"
"Noah's sitting with Amelie."
"They know each other?"
Noah caught a few glances in their direction and leaned slightly closer to her.
"Sorry. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to talk to you."
Amelie didn't seem bothered.
"It's fine. I don't care what others think."
Noah tilted his head, curious.
"That alone means you're strong."
She gave a small, dry smile.
"Not even close… I'm the opposite."
There was a pause.
She looked at him again, eyes lingering a little longer this time.
"You have an unusual eye color. It feels familiar."
Noah blinked once, then smiled faintly.
"Yeah? I could say the same about your green hair with yellow highlights. You definitely stand out."
Amelie turned her head slightly, almost amused.
"Put that way… I guess it makes sense."
'But those eyes… they're really similar, aren't they?'
'Though the voice is different… in that moment, it sounded so kind.'
Before the thought could deepen, the classroom door opened.
And all chatter fell quiet.
The door creaked shut behind the man who entered.
Short, round-shouldered, and balding—with a carefully trimmed white mustache and deep lines etched across his face—Professor Al walked with slow, deliberate steps toward the front desk. His robes were plain gray, with deep cuffs and a few ink stains near the collar, and his expression looked like it hadn't known joy in decades.
He cleared his throat as he reached the chalkboard.
Without a word, he picked up a stick of chalk and began writing.
Mana Theory – Core Classifications
The scratch of chalk echoed through the quiet hall.
Then, setting the stick down, he turned and spoke—voice calm but gravelly.
"Let's begin with a question. You," he gestured vaguely to the class, "tell me the main difference between Enchanters, Augmentors, and the Spiritualis—or what some of you might know as Manipulators."
Three hands rose almost immediately.
The first belonged to a girl near the front—calm posture, white hair flowing like silk, and piercing deep-blue eyes.
The second, to a large boy with dark skin and a heavy frame, his black hair tied tightly in a thick ponytail behind his head.
The third, to a tall, sharply dressed blonde wearing round glasses, who sat with perfect posture and a sketch of a mana diagram already half-drawn on his parchment.
Noah's eyes locked onto the girl.
'That's her…'
Cordelia Ross.
He hadn't known her name during the mission last month. But there was no mistaking those eyes.
'So that's who ranked first.'
There was a strange pull in his chest. Not envy—just curiosity. And maybe, something else.
He didn't even hear the professor call on her until—
"Correct," said Al, nodding once.
"Clear and concise. Good."
The chalk returned to the board, and the lesson resumed.
Noah blinked, as if snapping out of a trance.
Noah leaned back in his seat, but his eyes stayed fixed on Cordelia.
She didn't look proud or smug. She just sat straight, eyes on the board, hands resting neatly atop her notes. Like she belonged here. Like she always had.
'She didn't appear in the game… and yet here she is. First place, perfect control, top of the class.'
'Who are you really, Cordelia Ross?'
Movement to the side pulled his attention.
The large boy who had also raised his hand earlier—Varek Drenor—answered the next question with a firm, confident tone.
His voice rumbled like gravel, but he spoke with clarity and ease.
He wore a sleeveless vest instead of a robe, and his arms were wrapped in thick bands of reinforced cloth—likely to contain the mana within. His build was impressive, almost like a brawler, and yet his answer was sharp and precise.
'An Augmentor… like me. But a completely different style.'
'He's probably been training for years. Definitely not a beginner.'
Then came the third student—Tirien Vale.
He didn't speak much, but what he wrote on his scroll caught Noah's attention: a complex spell diagram involving golems and mana reinforcement, drawn with flawless lines.
He looked every bit the stereotype—slim build, tidy blonde hair, black-rimmed glasses—but there was a strange sharpness in his gaze. Underneath the quiet exterior was someone dangerous. Intelligent. Unpredictable.
'Manipulator. Creator of constructs.'
'And from the look of it… way too smart for his age, they are still the same.'
Noah glanced back toward Amelie. She was focused, taking notes, lips pressed together in concentration.
'She may not believe in herself… but she's sharper than she thinks.'
He folded his arms and looked back to the front of the room.
'So this is Class 1…It's way more stacked with important people than Class 4, that's for sure.'
The final word was written on the board.
Professor Al placed the chalk down with deliberate care, then turned to face the class.
"We'll continue with elemental flow theory next time. Bring your assigned reading."
He shuffled out of the room as quietly as he had entered, leaving behind a room full of shifting chairs and murmuring students.
Noah stood, stretching slightly.
He glanced at Amelie beside him—still seated, fingers fiddling with the edge of her notebook.
"See you around," he said, slinging his satchel over one shoulder.
Then added, with a small smile:
"You look tired," he said, voice light. "It's okay to take a break every now and then."
Amelie blinked and looked up at him, caught off guard.
"Huh…?"
But by then, Noah had already turned and started walking up the steps toward the exit.
She stared at his back for a moment.
Then smiled. Just a little.
'Why does that… actually help?'
The hallway outside the classroom buzzed with soft chatter as students spilled out in groups, comparing notes and discussing the lecture.
Noah walked alone.
He didn't mind.
The corridors of the Class 1 wing were quieter than most, with tall windows letting in golden light and distant views of the academy grounds. Every polished tile and engraved column whispered wealth and prestige—this was the domain of nobles, elites, and prodigies.
'Interesting first day.'
He stepped past a tall stained-glass window and paused just for a second, watching his reflection flicker across the colored panes.
'If I want to stay here, I'll need more than just knowledge.'
His hand instinctively brushed against the edge of his coat—where Kagetsume rested, hidden and silent.
'Strength, discipline. And maybe a bit of luck.'
He took a breath, steady and calm, and continued down the hall.
'Let's see who makes it to the end.'