The prestige of Starlight Academy was built on power — tangible, flashy, measurable power.

  Students strutted through the corridors in enchanted coats, with weapons embedded with elemental cores slung across their backs. Classes were divided by rank — Epic and Legendary classes got private training halls and elite instructors. Rare classes were assigned specialized curriculum. Common classes were guided and monitored.

  And Kyle?

  Kyle was assigned to a general combat zone — one that had been abandoned for years.

  The stone tiles were cracked. The equipment rusted. The mana conductivity was almost nonexistent.

  It was perfect.

  Kyle’s day started at 4:30 a.m., hours before others even stirred. The academy lights were still off when he entered the training yard with the same B-rank sword he'd awakened with.

  Swing. Breathe. Step. Reset.

  His movements were rough at first. Not unskilled, just…lacking something.

  But day by day, he honed it.

  He didn’t have flashy skills. He didn’t have a stat window full of buffs. But what he had was time, and a heart that refused to break.

  Later that week — Combat Class

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  Instructor Baek sighed loudly, scanning his roster. “Alright, sword drills today. Spellblades and Bladedancers to the front.”

  Kyle stood off to the side, unnoticed. Again.

  He didn’t mind anymore. The mockery didn’t sting like it did the first few days. Not when every night, he pushed himself until his muscles burned and his vision blurred.

  During sparring practice, a student from a noble background scoffed. “Still swinging that academy trash, Han?”

  Kyle didn’t reply. He simply moved forward.

  And disarmed him in three strikes.

  The yard fell quiet.

  Instructor Baek raised an eyebrow. “Hm. Didn’t see that coming.”

  Week Three — Physical Enhancement Class

  By now, whispers had changed. Some still mocked. But others began watching when Kyle trained.

  His stamina was beginning to rival second-years.

  During endurance trials, while others dropped panting after a mile sprint, Kyle continued into his fifth lap without pausing.

  “I heard he trains before classes,” one student murmured.

  “Yeah, but like… six hours straight?”

  “Nah, no way. That’s just a rumor.”

  “It’s not,” Arin said with a small smile, sitting nearby with Jin. “He trains even after curfew.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he has to.”

  That Night — Training Grounds

  His hands bled again. His sword chipped.

  Still, he kept swinging.

  [No Class Detected]

  The message echoed in his head every night like a cruel lullaby. But Kyle had decided something.

  If the system won’t give me a class... then I’ll make one myself.

  Sweat dripped from his chin. His breath was ragged. His muscles screamed for rest.

  But his eyes burned with something far stronger.

  Determination.

  Meanwhile — Observation Room | Tower Subdivision

  Two low-ranking Tower Admins stared at a screen that shouldn’t have been active.

  “Why the hell are we getting fluctuation pings from Earth?”

  “Beats me. That guy’s not even registered in our class system.”

  “…Wait, zoom in. Is that blood coming from his hands?”

  “Uhh... should we file a report?”

  The other sighed. “Let’s wait. Maybe it’s just a bug.”

  Even the Tower System had begun to notice the ripple.