I can’t speak for everyone else, but I felt a sense of relief after the warm-up led by Mr. Taka. The tension that had gripped me melted away, and I found myself relaxed both physically and mentally. I let out a big, yawning sigh, the kind that could rival a bear waking from hibernation. I was relaxed, and Of course, Okaya had to use the opportunity to tease me.

  “Wow, someone’s really loaded off some 'Burr'den, huh?” a playful smirk dancing on his thin, shadowy lips.

  Akiyo puffed out a little laugh, clearly amused by the little banter starting between us as before. I wanted to come up with a witty comeback, but I was so cozy in my own little bubble of relaxation that I couldn’t be bothered.

  I shrugged it off at first, but then my playful side kicked in. I glanced at the little gremlin, pulling out my usual weapon—the one that always worked best on him.

  "Complete the name for me, Yo..."

  "NOOOO!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with mock horror as he instantly realized where this was headed.

  Then came the look of defeat and misery, which was obnoxiously hilarious. His shoulders slumped as if I had just dealt him a crushing blow. It was the kind of expression that could turn a serious moment into a comedy sketch, and we couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic reaction.

  “Even in another world, you still remind me of Mrs. Yoshino!”

  That intensified our laughs further, making him join us too.

  Professor Yoshino, who taught a few of our classes during freshman year, had been his little crush. Over time, through the chemistry between best friends, that infatuation had morphed into my go-to weapon for teasing him.

  Then, I looked around, curious about how my classmates were faring. Mako, a member of the fighter class, was surrounded by a lively crowd, including Mr. Taka himself. My gaze shifted to Aira, her imposing figure clad in fur clothing, and the massive axe resting at her side made it clear what she was all about—a barbarian class. Unlike fighters who honed their skills in martial arts and swordsmanship, barbarians drew upon sheer strength, primal rage, and the fierce spirit of the wild in battle.

  She had her orange hair tied back in a long, intricately braided ponytail that swayed behind her head with every movement. Her velvet green eyes glowed with an intense primal ignite, by an inner fire that seemed ready to burst forth at any moment deemed worthy. That was our class representative—Uruma Aira, the embodiment of strength and spirit. Contrary to her fierce appearance, a faint blush crept onto her somewhat chubby cheeks at times, hinting at the softer, more feminine side and it's reaction to her rugged exterior and barbarian attire. It was a charming contrast that made her all the more relatable. Nonetheless, her inner strength and unwavering resolve existing along everything else, were undeniably worthy of our admiration.

  Then there was Mako, the fighter. With his long sword slung confidently at his side and his half leather, half silver armor glinting in the light, he looked every bit the warrior.

  Typically, guys like him ended up as the Hero class or Paladin—the destined righteous holy knights in shining armor wielding divine swords. Thank goodness that cliché was nowhere in sight; I could already feel the impending nausea just thinking about it. I’d probably get diarrhea from the sheer predictability, and I could picture Akiyo cringing at the isekai trope, while Okaya would be swearing and cursing at his name on a daily basis.

  His above-average features, bright skin, and naturally spiky dark blue hair, paired with striking obsidian eyes, had a way of captivating the attention of more than a few girls. Some used to say that he dyed his hair and that the natural color was dark gray. I couldn’t help but think, ‘Good for him that he broke up with his girlfriend a month ago!’ It seemed like he was suddenly the center of attention, and I wondered how long that would last.

  On one hand, I appreciated the privacy and tranquility that came from keeping the crowd away, allowing me to enjoy more quality time to myself or with my besties. However, I also knew that it could become frustrating once they would start to get ahead of themselves, with their excitement spilling over into my space and disrupting the calm I had come to cherish.

  For now, let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.

  The other six girls mostly had classes that didn’t scale on the Strength stat, like wizard, warlock, ranger, and so on. The remaining boys filled in whatever classes we lacked, balancing out our group’s dynamics. There was indeed a paladin wielding a big, metal shield in one hand and a short sword in the other, donning the thickest armor among us, but outshone by Mako. Still, it didn’t matter to him—he was our ‘Tank,’ the only one we had. Mr. Taka and one of the girls, who also got to be a druid, were our only healers as well.

  If you ask me, it’s strange.

  With a group of 15, which could easily become a raid party, you’d typically expect to have 2 tanks, 3 healers, and a few hybrid support-damage dealers among the remaining DPS classes.

  No, the stranger thing is that our subclasses were already chosen for us. A paladin, for instance, has two options ahead of them. one is to become a tank, and the other permanent subclass, the DPS, which allows them to become a heavy damage dealer with the smite ability.

  So why did the system automatically decide that for us? And at the beginning? Shouldn't that come up later when we reach a certain level, like 10?

  Would Mako, who was telling each classmate about their jobs, even notice that? Maybe I should bring it up to both him and Mr. Taka. But what if they eventually decide to brush it off and just manage with whatever we have? Would they tell me I’m overthinking things?

  Maybe i was, Maybe i wasn't.

  With the sound of a horn announcing the king’s arrival, I was jolted out of my thoughts. Then we gathered in neat rows behind our professor, ready to greet the king as he approached us on the back of his black horse, accompanied by ten knights, as well as several magicians and priests behind him.

  “Greetings, noble Champions! It brings me great joy to behold your thoughtfulness. I trust that our devoted maids and stalwart stewards have attended to your every need?” the king proclaimed, his voice surprisingly hoarse yet forcefully loud.

  As we had agreed upon when addressing the king or The Apostle, Mr. Taka took the lead in responding:

  “Of course, Your Majesty. Hail to your name and your rule! We have come prepared for the training, as was agreed.”

  With that, we all made a slight bow, a gesture of 'mutual respect and alliance'.

  “Splendid! For the first step, each of my knights, priests, and magicians shall take charge of you, guiding you through the fundamentals of your individual proficiencies. Let us begin!”

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  With that, the king officially initiated our tutorial training.

  'Great! But who would guide me in becoming a bard—my so-called false class?'

  The answer soon revealed itself. A young magician, distinct from his peers and of a similar age to mine, approached me with purpose.

  “Well, look at you! Aren’t you a rare specimen!” the mage exclaimed, his deep voice tinged with a subtly flirtatious tone, reflecting his unique high class.

  As I couldn’t blush, my mind instead fell into shambles.

  “Excuse me?” I uttered sheepishly, struggling to suppress a shy smile born from embarrassment and surprise.

  Despite his 'unique greeting' just now, he didn’t say anything further or even glance at my expression. Instead, he took my hand and led me away, moving slowly and gracefully to a different part of the training ground, away from other souls present.

  “A bard, eh? Truly a rare find, for few possess the talent to play instruments and wield the arcane weave simultaneously in these times. But fear not, for fortune smiles upon you—there exists a kindred spirit to illuminate your path: me!” he declared, his voice rich with poetic flair. His stylish, curly blonde hair flowed elegantly as he turned to meet my gaze with his captivating crimson blood eyes.

  'Perhaps I should put high walls around my heart to guard it!' I thought, realizing this man might steal it, despite my own gender, which led to my shy smile's break out instead, stretching my lips.

  Back in my home world, I had seen many captivating and charming characters within video games and shows, their beauty and handsomeness a natural fit for those fantastical realms. This man was certainly reminiscent of a few of them. Yet, who could fathom the tragic past and traumatic experiences he might be hiding beneath that alluring facade?

  There was no doubt that he must have such a complex background woven into his character, like how they all often did.

  “Ahem. Pardon me, sir, but may I inquire your name?” I gathered my scattered thoughts and will to speak.

  “And a person of eloquence speech and class, no less! Perhaps not perfect, but certainly better than nothing. Yes, we can work with that.” He feigned surprise at me.

  “Oh, yes! The name is Aurelian Silverquill. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear…?”

  “Jin Ryuji is my name, though I suppose you would say Ryuji Jin. But feel free to call me Ryuji, anyway, sir.”

  “Charmed, I’m sure. Now, I don’t typically accept an apprentice under normal circumstances. However, given that you’re destined to be one of our world’s saviors and it’s the king’s personal order, I had to oblige.”

  Now, why is he rambling on like this? Is he trying to show off his 'eloquence', or maybe he's laying the groundwork for some serious, hard lessons?

  “I understand, sir. I will do my best.” I tried to reassure him, but he would likely prefer to see it in action rather than just hear it from me.

  I wondered what could be so difficult about being a bard. In fantasy worlds, some attend schools, while others learn on their own or through family lineage. But isn’t it similar to attending music classes and learning to weave magical inspiration and charm through lyrics?

  Oh, and let’s not forget about singing and writing poetry when needed.

  Yet, as I processed these thoughts, I remembered that bard wasn’t my class. Damn it! I’m not ready for such a plot twist to choke me right now!

  “I know you will. You have a subtle dedication inside you, even though it’s barely visible,” he said, scrutinizing me with narrowed eyes. How many times has he done that now?

  “What do you know about bardship in general?” he questioned, his gaze moving from the lyre i had, to the crossbow and bag of arrows slung over my back.

  I hummed for a moment, then began with the thoughts I had previously gathered: “I know that bards rely on inspiration, supporting their allies with melodies intertwined with magic.”

  "And?"

  “Either by attending school or through lineage, they learn to write and sing poetry in the moment. Their powers lie in their words as well—through inspiration and devastating mockery.”

  He snapped his fingers with a flourish.

  “You have just outlined the very syllabus for our tutorial. Now, let us embark upon the enchanting journey of the very said inspiration.”

  And right at that moment, a peculiar buzzing sound reached my ears, sounding like an alarm signaling a notification. To my surprise, I realized the system window had materialized before me.

  "Attention!

  You have the opportunity to undertake a side quest: Follow the Instructions of Aurelian Silverquill.

  Rewards:

  Skill: Bardic Inspiration

  Skill: Vicious Mockery

  Should you fail, the rewards will be lost and the quest will be automatically closed by the system.

  Note: Your choices will shape your future and expand or minimize your possibilities for growth as a player within the system.

  I took a moment to absorb the system’s message. It didn’t even allow me to be able to accept or decline the quest. Yet, I reasoned, it mattered little; in the end, I could always choose to fail. But what did it mean that my choices would shape my future as a player? Perhaps, just perhaps, if I succeeded in this lesson and acquired the skills, the system would guide me along the path to becoming a bard. But if I chose to fail, would it open doors to other classes? Such as Warlock or Ranger, for example?

  It was a tough situation, for I remained uncertain of how profoundly my choices would impact my fate. In some games, a single decision—or perhaps two—could seal one’s destiny, while in others, it required far more to shift the course of one’s journey.

  “Hello? Is Ryuji present?” Aurelian’s voice broke through my reverie. “Is it the divine boon? Do you require a moment?”

  I simply nodded apologetically. Aurelian waved his hand, dismissing my apology with a casual grace, easing the tension into a more comfortable atmosphere.

  I took a deep breath, smiling at him appreciatively. This was a moment of profound choice. My mind fell quiet and numb, redirecting its energy into rapid, simultaneous thoughts rather than focusing on the present. What was I to do?

  Should I follow the path laid before me, or should I decline and await a more divergent route?

  Then a thought struck me: if I were to succeed, I would at least be better equipped to conceal my unknown job. Pretending to be a bard would become feasible. And since this was merely a ‘side’ quest, it likely wouldn’t have much impact on my overarching fate.

  Of course, that was just wishful thinking, I knew, but it was better to be safe than sorry. I was one to favor a cautious and calculated approach over the reckless gambles of a shambolic player. This was a moment when I wished for a quick save and reload option, even in the game of life.

  “Let us continue, Mr. Silverquill,” I decided firmly.

  “Very well, dear Ryuji. Now, let’s talk about Bardic Inspiration. I want you to imagine you’re in a group, traversing a dark cave, a dungeon filled with monsters. The warriors at the front line are struggling; their strikes aren’t powerful enough to slay a formidable goblin,” he began, guiding my understanding through the Instruction.

  His words ignited my imagination, and I quickly grasped the essence of the situation.

  “I see that look in your eyes—good! You’ve captured the setting. Now, think of a melody to play. Focus your mana into it, and craft an inspiring quote with poetic essence to share with your allies. You have one minute, starting now.”

  I widened my eyes in disbelief. How could I, an amateur, possibly play a tune and recite prose out loud in just one minute? He noticed my look of surprise and distress.

  “Have faith in the divine blessing,” he urged. “It will guide you, Bard.”

  Right, the system, as if!

  I closed my eyes, imagining the situation once more, then focused on my mana. Remembering my MP points, I tried to manifest it through imagination and sheer will. Nothing happened at first, but then I felt a sense of buzzing under my fingertips. Was I doing it right?

  I took another moment, knowing half of the time had passed. I had less than 30 seconds left. Rapid thinking—polishing thoughts! Choosing the allies in the moment at hand!

  And then, risking it all, I went for it. Brushing my fingers against the lyre’s strings, I willed my mana into it. Then…

  “Together, we rise as dawn breaks, our courage the light that pierces the shadows!”

  As if the mana wove itself into melodies, it flowed from the lyre and floated in the air, glittering around me and Aurelian, just as I had envisioned. Eventually, I opened my eyes and was met with a playful smirk on his lips—a satisfied one.