My dorm room isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, compared to the tiny, rundown apartment I had back in my world, this place feels almost luxurious. The air is fresh, not stale with the lingering scent of instant noodles and regret. Yeah, anything would be better than that old place.

  I set my belongings down near the bed and take a moment to look around. The room is simple but well-kept—sturdy wooden furniture, a large window letting in the afternoon sunlight, and a small desk pushed against the wall, perfect for studying. There's even a wardrobe, though I doubt I'll be filling it with much.

  I walk over to the bed and press down on the mattress. Not too soft, not too firm—way better than the creaky, secondhand thing I used to sleep on.

  Letting out a breath, I glance at the door. So this is home now, huh?

  I put on my new uniform, adjusting the fabric as I check the fit. A crisp white polo and neatly pressed blue slacks—not exactly my usual style, but at least the colorway isn’t that bad. The material feels surprisingly comfortable, not too stiff or heavy.

  I turn to the small mirror hanging on the wall, smoothing out the wrinkles. Well, this is definitely an upgrade from a hoodie and jeans.

  With a final glance, I exhale and roll my shoulders. Alright. Time to see what this academy is really like.

  I grab my bag and step out of the dorm, shutting the door behind me. The hallway is already buzzing with activity—students walking in groups, some chatting, others hurrying off as if they’re already late for something. The air is thick with excitement and nervous energy.

  As I make my way through the corridors, I take in the grand architecture of the academy. Towering arched ceilings, polished marble floors, and walls lined with massive windows letting in streams of golden morning light. Ornate banners hang from the rafters, each bearing the academy’s crest—a majestic wyvern wrapped around a sword and staff.

  Ahead, a few students practice spells in an open courtyard visible through the windows. Blue and crimson flames flicker between their hands, while others conjure glowing sigils midair. In another section, a group of swordsmen clash with wooden blades, their movements sharp and disciplined.

  I can’t help but stare. This place is like something straight out of a fantasy novel… Oh wait. It basically is.

  Lost in thought, I barely notice someone stepping into my path until it’s too late.

  —Thud.

  I stumble back, rubbing my shoulder. "Damn, sorry about that—"

  The person I bumped into barely moves. A tall, broad-shouldered guy with dark brown hair and sharp green eyes glares down at me. His uniform is pristine, his stance rigid, and from the way he carries himself, I can already tell—he’s one of those noble types.

  "You should watch where you’re going," he says coolly, adjusting his sleeve like I just inconvenienced his entire morning.

  Great. I’ve been here for less than an hour, and I’ve already pissed off some high-ranking student.

  I quickly bow, keeping my head down. "Sorry!"

  The guy narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything right away. For a second, I wonder if he’s going to make a big deal out of it, but then he just exhales through his nose and steps aside.

  "Hmph. Just be more careful next time," he says, his tone carrying the usual noble arrogance. Without another word, he walks past me, his footsteps sharp and precise against the polished floor.

  I straighten up and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Well, that could've gone worse.

  Shaking off the tension, I continue down the hallway. Eventually, I reach a grand set of double doors, their surface engraved with intricate runes. A few other students are making their way inside, chatting excitedly. This must be the main lecture hall.

  Alright. First day at the academy. Let’s see how this goes.

  I push the doors open and step inside.

  The moment I step inside, the sheer size of the lecture hall takes me by surprise. The room is massive, with rows of tiered seating that stretch all the way to the back. At the front, an elevated podium stands beneath a floating crystal, its soft glow illuminating the entire space. The walls are lined with towering bookshelves, filled with thick tomes and scrolls, some even levitating slightly as if eager to be read.

  Students are scattered throughout the hall, some already seated, others chatting in groups. A few glance at me as I enter, their whispers barely audible, but I can feel their eyes lingering. Great. More staring.

  I shake it off and move toward an empty seat near the middle. As I sit down, I hear someone scoff from behind me.

  "So that’s the guy, huh? The one who fought an Archdemon?"

  "Doesn’t look like much."

  "Maybe it was just luck."

  I resist the urge to sigh. Of course, the rumors got here before I did.

  Before I can dwell on it, a sudden pressure fills the room. It’s not an attack, but an overwhelming presence—one that demands attention. The entire hall falls silent.

  At the front of the room, an older man has stepped onto the podium. His long silver hair is tied back neatly, and his deep blue robes carry the insignia of the academy. His piercing gaze sweeps across the students, sharp and calculating.

  Alden Garner, the Headmaster.

  "Welcome," he says, his voice carrying effortlessly through the hall. "To those returning, I expect nothing less than excellence. To our new students… do not mistake this place for a mere school."

  The glowing crystal above him flares for a moment, and a sudden gust of wind rushes through the hall, as if responding to his presence.

  "This academy is a forge," Alden continues, eyes narrowing slightly. "And you are the metal. Whether you emerge as a sharpened blade or shattered scrap depends entirely on you."

  A quiet murmur spreads through the room. Some students nod confidently, while others shift uncomfortably in their seats.

  I lean back slightly, watching him closely. This guy doesn’t play around.

  Alden clasps his hands behind his back. "Your first lessons begin tomorrow. Until then, I suggest you familiarize yourselves with the academy grounds. Dismissed."

  Just like that, the pressure in the air vanishes, and the students begin filing out.

  I exhale, stretching my arms. First day’s not too bad so far. But I have a feeling it won’t stay that way for long.

  Realizing the contradiction, I frown. Wait… I joined halfway through the semester, didn’t I? So why is he acting like this is the start for everyone?

  There’s only one way to get an answer.

  I get up from my seat and make my way toward the front of the lecture hall. By the time I step onto the platform, most of the students have already left, leaving only a few stragglers talking amongst themselves. Alden is still there, speaking briefly with another faculty member.

  I wait until their conversation ends before stepping forward. "Headmaster Garner, may I ask you something?"

  He turns to face me, his sharp gaze studying me for a moment before he nods. "Walk with me," he says, turning toward the side exit of the hall.

  I follow him through the corridors, the echoes of our footsteps filling the space. Soon, we arrive at his office—a large room lined with bookshelves, magical artifacts, and an ornate desk covered in neatly stacked papers. A massive window behind the desk offers a breathtaking view of the academy grounds.

  "You addressed everyone as if this was the start of the semester," I say, glancing at him. "But I joined halfway through, didn’t I?"

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Alden nods, hands clasped behind his back. "You did. However, due to recent… events, the academy’s schedule has shifted. Some courses have been reset, and new students were admitted earlier than expected."

  I frown. "Let me guess—because of me?"

  He chuckles lightly. "You and a few other factors. But make no mistake, your presence here has made waves. People will want to test you. Some out of curiosity, others for more… political reasons."

  I exhale sharply. "So basically, I have a target on my back."

  "More or less," he admits, leading me toward a large set of double doors. "Consider it an opportunity. You’ll need to prove yourself here, just as you have outside these walls."

  We step onto a balcony overlooking the academy grounds. Below, students are training—some sparring with swords, others casting magic in controlled bursts. A few sit under the shade of ancient trees, buried in their studies. The entire place feels alive, a world within a world.

  Alden gestures toward the scene. "This is where your real journey begins. Study, train, and prepare. But most of all, be wary of those who take too much interest in you. Not all attention is beneficial."

  I watch the students below, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. I was already expecting trouble, but this just makes things worse.

  After a moment, I nod. "Got it."

  Alden clasps my shoulder briefly before turning away. "Welcome to Aurewyn Grand Academy, Eli. Try not to disappoint."

  As he walks off, I remain on the balcony, watching the world I’ve just stepped into.

  I look over the balcony again, watching students duel below. The clash of steel against steel rings out as swordsmen test their skill, their movements sharp and disciplined. But what truly catches my attention is magic.

  I've seen it in manga and manhwa before—characters throwing fireballs, summoning storms, bending reality itself—but witnessing it in real life is something else entirely. Streams of fire dance through the air, shimmering barriers deflect incoming strikes, and one student even levitates mid-duel, dodging an opponent’s attack with unnatural grace.

  Come to think of it… I haven’t actually fought any mages yet.

  Most of my battles so far have been against knights, warriors, and monsters. All physical opponents. If I ever go up against someone who relies entirely on magic, how would I counter them? Nyxrend might be powerful, but it’s still just a sword. Against someone who can attack from a distance or warp the battlefield itself, would brute force even be enough?

  I grip the balcony railing, my mind already racing through scenarios. I need to learn how magic works—not just how to fight against it, but how to predict and counter it properly. Otherwise, sooner or later, I’ll run into someone who’ll turn me into a pile of ash before I even get close.

  "Hah," I mutter, leaning against the railing. "If only I had mana... I wanna try doing a fireball."

  I glance down at the sword strapped to my waist, absentmindedly gripping the hilt. But the moment my fingers tighten around it, something feels... off.

  "Wait." I pull the blade slightly from its sheath, and my stomach drops. "You're not Nyxrend."

  The metal glints in the sunlight, a simple yet well-forged sword—completely unremarkable compared to Nyxrend's dark, soul-hungry edge.

  I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Great. I must’ve forgotten Nyxrend in my dorm room."

  I sheathe the nameless sword with a click, shaking my head at my own carelessness. Of all the things to forget, why did it have to be that sword? I can't exactly run back for it now, not without looking suspicious.

  "Nyxrend better not be eating my blankets or something," I grumble, already making a mental note to retrieve it the first chance I get.

  I turn around and start walking, hands tucked into my pockets. "Now, what can I do? I guess I'll just explore the academy for now."

  With no particular destination in mind, I wander through the grand halls of the academy, taking in its sheer size and atmosphere. The place is alive with activity—students moving between classes, chatting in small groups, or practicing spells right in the corridors.

  The first place I come across is the canteen, a massive dining hall filled with long wooden tables. The scent of freshly baked bread, roasted meat, and rich stews fills the air, making my stomach rumble. Students are gathered in clusters, some laughing, others engaged in quiet discussions. A separate section seems to be dedicated to nobles, their pristine uniforms standing out from the rest. The moment I step in, a few curious eyes flicker in my direction, but I ignore them and move on.

  Next, I pass by several classrooms, peeking inside whenever a door is slightly open. Some rooms are filled with students sitting at desks, listening intently to their instructors as they explain magical theory or combat strategies. In one, a professor levitates an orb of water mid-air, explaining its properties to wide-eyed students. In another, a heavily armored instructor demonstrates sword techniques to a group of aspiring knights, their blades clashing with sharp metallic rings.

  Eventually, I make my way outside to the training fields, an open expanse where students engage in duels. Here, physical combatants test their skills in one-on-one matches, their movements precise and disciplined. Swords clash, spears twirl, and shields slam against each other in controlled battles. Some students are drenched in sweat, panting heavily after an intense sparring session, while others stand on the sidelines, observing and analyzing techniques.

  But what truly catches my interest is a separate area—an arena where magic users train. Unlike the standard dueling fields, this place is enclosed by large stone walls, runes etched into their surfaces. The ground is a smooth, reinforced platform, likely enchanted to withstand powerful spells.

  Inside, students wielding staffs, wands, and even their bare hands channel magic into reality. Fireballs soar through the air, crackling with heat before being extinguished by swift water-based counters. Lightning arcs across the battlefield, striking summoned barriers that shimmer upon impact. Some students hover above the ground, carried by wind magic, while others teleport short distances, blinking from one side of the arena to another in rapid succession.

  I stop at the entrance, watching the spectacle unfold. This… is a whole different world from the duels I’m used to.

  And if I ever have to fight against a mage… I need to learn how to deal with this.

  I head toward the benches, scanning for an open seat. The arena is packed with students—some watching intently, others chatting amongst themselves, either discussing strategies or gossiping about the duelists in the ring.

  I finally spot an empty spot near the edge and make my way over, slipping into the seat. From here, I get a clear view of the ongoing matches.

  A duel is already in progress—two students standing at opposite ends of the arena, their robes swaying as they exchange spells. One of them, a tall guy with sharp eyes, raises his hand and conjures a volley of ice shards, sending them hurling toward his opponent. The other, a girl with short silver hair, counters with a sweeping motion, summoning a gust of wind that scatters the projectiles mid-air.

  The fight doesn’t stop there. The silver-haired girl wastes no time, dashing forward while forming a series of magic circles beneath her feet. With each step, her speed increases, and within moments, she’s right in front of her opponent. Before he can react, she thrusts her palm outward, releasing a concussive burst of wind that sends him skidding back across the arena.

  The crowd murmurs in excitement, clearly impressed. I lean forward slightly, observing the way they fight. Magic isn’t just about casting powerful spells—it’s about control, timing, and adaptability. The girl isn’t just spamming attacks; she’s reading her opponent, countering his moves before he can gain the upper hand.

  If I had mana… could I fight like that too?

  I shake the thought away. Wishing won’t change the fact that I don’t have magic. But watching these fights, analyzing their movements… maybe I can still learn something from them.

  I look around the arena, my gaze drifting past the dueling students until I notice someone off to the side, standing alone. He’s deep in concentration, muttering under his breath, hands trembling slightly as he weaves together a long, drawn-out chant.

  Could it be a massive spell?

  Curious, I decide to wait, watching closely as he continues his incantation. Seconds pass. Then a minute. His voice grows more intense, sweat forming on his brow. The air around him hums faintly with mana, and I brace myself for something incredible.

  Finally, a faint shimmer of light gathers in his palm, building up to—

  A tiny flame.

  Just a small flicker of fire, barely the size of a candle’s flame, sways gently in his outstretched hand.

  ...Eh?

  I blink, trying to process what I just witnessed. After all that chanting, all that effort… this was it? I glance around, wondering if anyone else saw, but most of the students are too absorbed in their own training.

  The student, however, looks at his tiny fireball with sheer triumph, pumping his fist. “Yes! I finally did it!”

  I don’t know whether to be impressed by his determination or secondhand embarrassed by how underwhelming that was.

  Wait… what am I even saying? Even I can’t do that.

  I let out a sigh, shaking my head at my own thoughts. Pushing myself up from the bench, I decided to leave.

  But just as I took a step forward, I felt it—a sudden wave of heat rushing toward me. Instinct took over, and I dodged just in time. A fireball shot past, grazing the air right in front of me before slamming into the ground.

  BOOM!

  The explosion wasn’t massive, but it sent embers scattering, the impact leaving a black scorch mark on the arena floor.

  "Oops, sorry, demon hunter," a smug voice called out. Laughter followed, not just from him but from the others standing nearby.

  Before I could react, another fireball came hurtling toward me. Then another.

  I clenched my fists but stayed still, letting the spells fizzle out harmlessly at a distance. Not worth it, I told myself. I had no intention of making a scene, not on my first day.

  At least… that’s what I wanted to do.

  "Can’t believe you actually defeated an Archdemon," one of them sneered. "With that skinny build of yours, maybe even I could take one down." More laughter erupted, a mix of mockery and arrogance.

  I exhaled sharply, turning away. I could just walk off. I didn’t need to—

  "Hey!"

  A voice cut through the jeering, and I turned to see the same guy from earlier—the one who had struggled to cast a simple flame. He was now standing at my right, arms crossed, a deep frown on his face.

  "You shouldn’t be bullying him like that!" he snapped. "You’re breaking Rule 13 of Article 1—No bullying on campus!"

  For a moment, there was silence.

  Then, someone chuckled. "Oh, look, the weakling’s trying to be a hero."

  I blinked, glancing at the guy. He looked nervous, like he hadn’t planned this far ahead—but he still stood firm.

  I sighed again. This just got annoying.

  I grab his shoulder, lowering my voice. "Just let it go," I whisper, hoping to keep him from making things worse.

  But he doesn't.

  "I can't!" he shouts, his voice raw with emotion. Then, quieter—just loud enough for me to hear—he murmurs, "I can't... let anyone else experience what I do…"

  Something inside me snaps.

  Maybe it’s because I know exactly what he means. Maybe it’s because I, too, had been a victim before. Maybe it’s the anger I never got to release back then, the helplessness I buried deep inside. But right now, that anger refuses to stay buried.

  I realize too late that my grip on his shoulder has tightened. He winces slightly, and I immediately let go, pushing him gently aside as I turn to face the group that had been mocking me.

  "You want to find out if I really defeated an Archdemon?" I say, my voice low but laced with barely restrained fury.

  I take a step forward, locking eyes with each of them. "Then let’s figh—" I stop, correcting myself. "No. Let’s duel. All of you against me. Right now."

  The laughter that had filled the arena moments ago dies out. The students watching hold their breath, sensing the shift in the air.

  The group of mages exchange glances, some smirking, others hesitating.

  One of them scoffs. "Tch. You think you can take on all of us?"

  I tighten my fists. "Try me."