Chapter 14: Classes
Mary nodded and sat beside him, her tone softer than before.
"I'm sorry about what Dennis said earlier. He doesn't understand how difficult it is for a talentless commoner to step inside the Knight Academy. Don't take his words to heart."
The corner of Raven's lips twitched.
'She doesn't hold back, does she?'
Still, he shook his head and replied calmly, "It doesn't bother me. Honestly, there's some truth to what he said."
"I'm glad you understand, Raven. Some of the other commoners in our class think they're exceptional just because they have a bit of money," Mary muttered, then stood. "If you ever need help, you can ask me anytime."
With that, she returned to the front row, joining a group of students chatting comfortably among themselves.
Raven remained where he was, his gaze drifting across the classroom. A few students, like him, kept to themselves—quiet, observant. Others were already laughing together, forming the early bonds of friendship—or factions.
A few minutes passed before the door creaked open. An elderly man, likely in his seventies, entered with slow, deliberate steps. His presence silenced the room. With a dignified voice, he introduced himself as the Tactical Warfare Instructor.
For the next two hours, he outlined the geography of Darkcross Town, discussing elevation points, terrain types, and strategic positions. He followed it with an overview of basic combat tactics—how terrain, numbers, and preparation could change the course of battle.
The second class was titled Chivalry and Honor. This time, a tall, middle-aged man dressed in sharp, black formalwear stood before them. His name was Sir William, and he radiated the stern composure of a seasoned knight.
He spoke of tradition—of a knight's loyalty to their lord, of the rigid expectations of courtesy and posture. He explained how a knight must behave in a noble's presence: head slightly bowed, eyes cast low, steps measured, voice calm.
Then came the lunch break.
When the students returned, Raven was the first to rise as Teacher Elizabeth entered the classroom. Tall and graceful, she carried herself with quiet authority.
"Good afternoon, ma'am!" the class chorused.
Elizabeth smiled warmly as she approached the front. "Good afternoon, students."
She sat down in the wooden chair placed behind the desk. At that moment, two young girls, perhaps thirteen or fourteen, entered the room carrying a stack of notebooks.
"These are?" Elizabeth asked, frowning.
"Professor Reid asked us to place them here, ma'am," one of the girls replied quickly.
"Ah. Leave them on the table."
The girls placed the notebooks on the iron desk and left without another word.
Elizabeth's gaze swept across the room.
"Sit," she said simply.
Once everyone was seated, she opened a large leather-bound notebook and began flipping through the pages.
"Let me reintroduce myself. I'm Elizabeth. As you may have guessed, I'm not from the Empire—but I've lived here long enough to qualify as your instructor on Etiquette."
She looked up. "Before we begin, can anyone tell me how many types of etiquette there are?"
Mary raised her hand at once.
Elizabeth's lips curved. "Ah, I expected no less from the noble lady of our class. Please, enlighten us."
"Yes, ma'am." Mary stood and answered, her voice confident.
"Etiquette includes how one should behave at social events, banquets, or formal parties—how to greet, introduce oneself, and even how to converse properly. Sometimes, even using improper slang can be seen as poor etiquette."
"Hmm. Not bad," Elizabeth nodded with approval before turning her attention to other students, patiently listening to their thoughts one by one.
Finally, her eyes settled on Raven.
"And what about you, Raven?"
He stood, his tone calm but steady. "Etiquette isn't limited to social settings, ma'am. There's dining etiquette, communication etiquette, business etiquette, travel etiquette, cultural etiquette... My sister once told me that learning dining etiquette alone took her six months. So, I imagine we'll be studying all of these over the next five years."
Elizabeth smiled. "It seems you've done your homework. But let me make something clear: I'm not here just to teach you how to bow or how to use the right fork at dinner."
Her tone sharpened slightly.
"I'll teach you how to survive among nobles and royals. That means understanding their expectations, their subtleties, and yes—when to be polite, and when to be cunning. You'll learn to balance courtesy with caution. As knights, you are an extension of your lord's pride and power. Every mistake you make reflects on them. So, by the end of these five years, I expect you to become Noble Knights—not wandering vagabonds who only know how to swing a sword."
A moment of silence followed, the weight of her words sinking in.
A boy named Dante raised his hand.
"Teacher… does that mean we have to serve a noble lord after five years?"
Elizabeth gave him a knowing look.
"Not quite. The noble lords will choose you. But yes, you do have the right to refuse. Just remember—nobles are prideful. They don't forget insults easily."
Dante paled.
For the next two hours, Elizabeth taught them the intricate hierarchy of noble society, the unspoken rules, the language of posture, and the power behind every gesture. Then, her class came to an end.
Just as she left, a man around twenty-five entered the room. He had short blond hair, sharp azure eyes, and a confident stride. His muscular frame was dressed casually in a brown shirt and trousers, and he carried a wooden sword loosely in one hand.
The class fell silent at once.
"I'm Reid Hooper," he said in a relaxed tone. "I'll be your Knight Training Instructor for the next five years. I'm also in charge of maintaining discipline. Don't be so stiff."
He walked over to the iron table, grabbed the stack of notebooks, and began distributing them.
"These are your Basic Knight Training Manuals. Your first mission is to read it thoroughly. By the end of the second year, I expect each of you to form a circle in your heart."
He paused, giving them a moment to digest his words.
"Of course, I'll guide you step-by-step—how to train, how to meditate, how to visualize. Even geniuses take a year to form their first circle. I heard the 'Mysterious Sword Princess' took four full years to reach the Third-Circle Apprentice Knight stage. So if you want to catch up, you'll need to work harder than ever."
Raven raised his hand. "Sir, how exactly does this training manual help us advance? Will it make us stronger physically?"
Reid smiled approvingly. "Good question. This manual will teach you how to form a mana circle in your heart. It won't boost your strength overnight, but it'll improve stamina, breath control, and body movement. As you form more circles, you'll grow stronger—far beyond what your bodies are capable of now."
Another student—a black-haired girl—asked, "How many circles do we need to become an Official Knight?"
Reid nodded. "Good that you asked. The Knight path starts at Apprentice, then Official, and finally Elite. These are all part of the Mortal Knight rank. With one mana circle, you're considered an Apprentice Knight. With four, you become an Official Knight. But advancing is no easy feat. Some take years—others, decades."
He picked up the manual and held it aloft.
"And that brings me to the true reason behind slow progress. Anyone?"
Raven spoke again. "Affinity?"
"Correct, but there's another key factor," Reid said. "It's the rank of the knight technique itself. What you hold now is a Common Rank technique. It'll help you reach the Third-Circle Apprentice stage, but not beyond. To go further, you'll need Uncommon, Rare, or even Epic-rank techniques. The better the technique, the smoother and faster your advancement."
He glanced at them all.
"That's why most graduates choose to serve High-Rank Noble Houses. Nobles often possess higher-ranked techniques—and access to resources that you can't find in remote villages."
For the rest of the session, Reid took every question seriously and answered them with clarity.
By the time class ended, the sun was already dipping below the horizon.
And with that, Raven's first full day at the Knight Academy came to a close.
As the final bell rang and students spilled out of the academy, Raven stayed behind in the quiet classroom.
Athena said she won't be here until 6 p.m... What should I do until then? He glanced at the parchment Reid had handed out earlier—the Knight Technique manual.
What's the point of studying this if I can't create a mana circle? You said I'm not suited for the Knight's Path, right?
[You can't form a mana circle. Instead of wasting time with that scrap, you'd better focus on Alchemy.]
But won't that leave me behind in physical strength and knight training? Raven frowned. He knew that even though Apprentice Knights were still human in strength, they could perform remarkable feats using only techniques and skills.
If he didn't keep up with his peers, he might not even graduate.
[You don't need fancy skills right now. You need a strong foundation. Even if you tried to create a mana circle with this technique, it would fail. These circles can only store raw Mana—not separate elemental energies.]
Wait... What's the difference between Mana and elemental energy?
[Mana is a blend—an amalgam of elemental forces: fire, wind, water, light, darkness, and others. When you use a Knight skill, it draws a bit of this mixed Mana, usually only tapping into one element while the rest disperses uselessly into the air. The Elemental Circlet Technique, on the other hand, extracts only the element you want and stores it in your Inner World in large amounts. When you cast a spell with that stored energy, the result is much stronger and more precise. That's one of the main reasons Wizards are more powerful than Walkers.]
So my sister's technique is on the same level as a Wizard's?
[Exactly. The technique you gave her is more advanced than most. Other Walkers eventually learn to store specific elements too, but their control will always be inferior to a Wizard's.]
Then what's the plan? If you don't give me the Elemental Circlet Technique now, won't I fall even further behind?
[If I give it to you now, you'll skip physical development entirely. Your body won't be ready. For the next five years, just train. Strengthen your body. Raise your stats to 1.0. Only then will the real journey begin.]
Raven sighed and nodded silently. There was no shortcut.
He pulled out his notes and began reviewing what the teachers had covered today. The theory behind Spearmanship occupied his mind.
I need to master the Wintermoon Spear Dance, he told himself. But it wasn't that easy. He lacked natural affinity with the spear.
Even though he could mimic the movements flawlessly, he ranked near the bottom of the class. Without a mana circle to channel aura, he couldn't fully wield the technique's potential.
If I keep training, I can remain an average student for the next two years... but after that, when they all unlock their mana circles, I'll fall behind.
A shadow crossed his face.
And if my spear techniques still feel clumsy and dull... the academy might fail me.
[You're too focused on scores, Raven. I keep forgetting you're still a child trying to chase grades. Don't worry. Your real journey won't begin until you turn fifteen.]
Zera's words were meant to reassure, but they brought him no comfort.
"So what you're saying... is that I'll just keep facing setbacks until then?" he muttered.
He looked up at the wall clock. It was almost 6 p.m.
"It's fine. As long as my sister and aunt are happy... I can endure anything."
He grabbed his bag and walked out of the classroom. The grand foyer echoed with scattered footsteps and laughter from the upper floors—older students still attending combat practice.
One day, I'll train hard enough to stand alongside them... maybe even beat them.
Clutching that quiet resolve, Raven stepped out into the courtyard, crossing it under the fading amber glow of the setting sun.
A black hackney carriage waited at the school gate, pulled by two sleek horses. On the driver's seat sat Athena, waving at him with a warm smile.
"How is it? Do you like the carriage?" she asked.
Raven's eyes sparkled as he approached one of the horses, reaching out—only for Athena to stop him with a sharp gesture.
"Don't. It'll take a few days for them to get used to us. Until then, keep your distance."
"Will it kick me?" Raven stepped back warily and made his way to the carriage door.
"How much did this cost, Sis?" he asked as he climbed in.
"Twenty-three gold coins and fifty silvers," Athena replied as she took the reins. "A bit expensive, but manageable with our current income."
Inside, Raven examined the sleek black interior, running his fingers along the curtains.
"I thought it'd be around five gold coins. This is way more than I expected." He paused, a thought crossing his mind. "So... what if we wanted to buy the house we're renting now? How much would that cost?"
The question caught Athena off guard.
"Hm. I never really thought about buying it. But it would be expensive. This carriage alone cost over twenty gold. A small house? At least five hundred gold coins. If it's near the Industrial District or Nobles' Lane? Could be over a thousand. And that's just here in Darkcross. In a major city, you'd need twice that."
"Just thinking about it makes me dizzy," Raven muttered with a crooked smile.
"Even living a quiet life in this town isn't cheap," Athena said, gently urging the horses forward as they left the school behind.
The ride took nearly thirty minutes, the streets slowly darkening with dusk. When they arrived at their yard, Athena parked the carriage and tied the horses under the large tree.
"We'll need to ask the landlady to build a small stable," she said as she locked the carriage. "She'll probably raise the rent again... but there's no helping it."
Raven followed her into the house. He dropped his bag on the couch, freshened up, and began recounting the day's events to her.
"Oh? You clashed with someone from the Miller family? Hah! Don't let it bother you," Athena waved it off casually.
Raven nodded, then went to his room to do homework. Athena headed into the kitchen, preparing dinner with practiced ease. A short while later, she pulled out a bag of colorful decorations—balloons, streamers, ribbons—and began to decorate the room.
At 8:30 p.m., the front door creaked open. Shirley stepped inside, a cake in one hand and a bag of neatly wrapped clothes in the other.
"What's he doing?" she asked softly, scanning the room.
"In his room," Athena replied, taking the cake from her carefully.
"Good." Shirley stepped into the dining area and started helping with the decorations.
"Is everything alright at work, Aunt Shirley?" Athena asked gently, trying not to disrupt the peaceful mood.
Shirley let out a tired sigh. "Nothing serious. Just another long day."
Athena didn't press further. She knew Shirley often took extra missions for their sake. To her, Aunt Shirley wasn't just family—she was like a second mother.
When they finished decorating, Raven stepped out of his room—and stopped short.
His eyes widened as he took in the transformation: colorful streamers draped across the ceiling, balloons floating near the table, and in the center, a large cake with flickering candles.
"Wow... this is amazing!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up with wonder.
Athena beamed. "Happy birthday, little brother."
Raven's heart swelled with joy. "Thank you, Sis! This is the best surprise ever!"
Shirley stepped forward and ruffled his hair. "You deserve it. Now go put on one of the outfits I brought. We'll eat dinner, then cut the cake."