Twenty minutes later…
"WHERE THE HELL AM I?!"
The castle was a labyrinth. Every hallway twisted into another, every corridor looked the same. I paced back and forth, turning corners that led to dead ends or classrooms that were practically identical. Where were the professors? Where were the other students? Had I arrived too early? Was this even the right time?
A faint thumping sound echoed behind me. My head snapped around, heart jumping. Please, don't let it be a ghost…
"EEP!" I jerked back instinctively.
A male student lay sprawled on the floor. Shadow-black hair wavy and reaching just above his ears, skin lightly tanned, and eyes a bloodshot red.
Black hair was rare in this country—so rare, in fact, that it was often considered a bad omen. And here he was, right in front of me. My pulse quickened. This was the first time I had ever seen someone with hair like that.
Something about him felt… dangerous.
His uniform told me he was a student here, and he didn't look much older than me. Will I be cursed? I questioned myself. But why was he lying on the ground? Did he just fall from the sky? Was this some ominous sign?
Despite my racing thoughts, he looked… kind of adorable, asleep and oblivious to the world.
I knelt down and poked his face lightly a couple of times. "Uhhh… are you alive?"
He groaned softly, turning over. "Uhhmmm…" That answered my question.
"Hey, um… do you know where the office is?" I asked, trying again.
He twisted and moaned again. "– uugh."
"And you're completely useless," I muttered with a sigh.
『Partial Activation: Perfect Vision』
My eyes glimmered faintly, the black particles I had seen before flickering from his body. A cold, uncomfortable presence lingered behind my shoulders. I blinked, wiping my eyes, and the sensation vanished as quickly as it came.
Ignoring the unease, I bent down, gently lifting him under his armpits. To my surprise, he was quite light for his size, and I dragged him along without resistance. "I'm taking you with me now," I murmured. "I should probably find a professor to deal with you."
This castle was enormous—far too big for someone as impatient as me. "Now then… where is the office?"
We wandered the hallways for who-knows-how-long until a golden glow caught my eye. A door emanated a strong surge of mana, tempting me to peek inside. The student tensed slightly, as if silently warning me not to.
"Maybe here? What do you think?" I asked, shaking him gently like a toy. He didn't resist. "Hehehe…" His head bobbled back and forth like a bobblehead, utterly unconcerned.
Curiosity won. I reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open. My jaw dropped. The room beyond was bathed in golden light, filled with artifacts displayed behind glass cases, each one more vibrant and intricate than the last. Pictures, relics, and objects that pulsed with mana—this was no ordinary office.
A male figure sat at a desk, dressed in white. My pulse skipped a beat as I leaned closer. Shiny bald head, long white beard…
Well, shit.
It was none other than the Author himself. He smiled warmly, hands clasped together as if welcoming a guest. I froze, realizing I was standing in the Author's private office—not the place I had intended to enter. Panic surged through me.
He might do something to me for breaking in!
"Excuse me, sir… I'll take my leave," I stammered, backing toward the door, my heart hammering in my chest.
"No—Wait!"
"–Epp!" I jumped back instinctively.
The Author raised his hand in a swift, fluid motion. A key materialized, hovering above his palm as if suspended by invisible threads.
"I think you might be needing this," he said calmly. "I'll trade you the key for the boy."
I nodded without hesitation. I wanted to leave as fast as possible. I carefully set the boy down on one of the couches. He groaned softly, "–Ugghh." The sound carried a bit more force this time, some faint hint of distress, but I shrugged it off.
I stepped up to the front of the Author's desk and hesitantly took the key. My pulse was hammering—I didn't dare linger another second. The pressure emanating from him was overwhelming; just looking at him hurt my eyes. Pure, searing light radiated from his presence.
The moment I left, the Author's composure shifted instantly. His pure aura vanished, replaced by visible frustration.
"Sit up and stop your acting!" he barked.
The boy—who had been feigning sleep—slowly lifted his head, dark eyes revealing a faint grim expression. He rested his arms on the edge of the couch, utterly unbothered by the Author's fury.
"You weren't supposed to show yourself yet," the Author continued, his voice sharp. "And you let a commoner student notice you! I had no choice but to give her your dorm key."
"Do you know how frustrating it is to change dorm rules for one person, let alone a commoner?!" he shouted.
The student ignored him completely, eyes focused elsewhere. That only enraged the Author further. He stormed forward, clenched his fist, and struck the boy square in the face.
"–Keuk!"
The student collapsed to the ground, blood dripping from his mouth onto the floor. Drip… drip… Yet even as he lay there, his eyes never wavered. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet the Author's, unflinching.
"Look at you," the Author spat. "Pathetic. Nothing more than a tool."
I left through the front door, my stomach twisting with a mix of fear and frustration. Ironically, I had to return to the Author just moments later and ask him to teleport me out of the castle. By the time I reappeared outside, the professors and other students had just arrived.
"WHAT THE—?!"
Panic gripped me. The sudden appearance of everyone, combined with the chaos of the morning, pushed me to the edge. I scratched at my hair—a nervous habit when I was stressed.
Then, conveniently, Lilia appeared. "Chloe!"
I held up a hand, cutting her off. I must have looked a complete mess. "Don't wanna hear it," I muttered, glaring at her. "I'm leaving. I'm going to bed."
And with that, I turned and fled, hoping the world would leave me alone for just a few precious hours.
The next day, the bridge leading to the academy was packed with students hauling their bags. First-years like me were moving into the dorms, some struggling with oversized trunks, others barely managing to carry their belongings.
Of course, I was among the ones struggling the most. My mother had insisted I bring everything I might need for academy life. "Don't forget this, honey! You'll need your winter clothes, your brush, and—oh, take this too, just in case!" I barely managed to stuff everything into my bag without toppling over. Leaving her behind was almost emotional; she waved me off while muttering reminders like a seasoned drill sergeant.
At the gate, the two guards stood as usual, overwhelmed by the swarm of students trying to push past.
"Wait your turn and let me see some identification! (I hate my job)," one grumbled, flipping through a stack of IDs.
I approached, struggling slightly with my overpacked bag, and greeted them cheerfully. "Hey, Harv! Jackie!" I called. They had been the ones letting me through the Citadel grounds the other day after my little wandering adventure inside the academy.
"Hey, Chloe. Go on ahead," Harv said, waving me through with a grin.
It really pays off to be friendly, I thought.
Curious, I asked, "Do you know where UN-4 is?"
"Oh, yeah. The unique dorms are near the nobles, to the right. The building with fewer students," he replied.
"Thanks!" I said, wondering why a commoner like me was in a unique dorm. Well… I wasn't complaining. It was probably better than the commoner dorms, anyway.
The other students weren't as lucky—they were agitated to see me walk by without showing identification. "What the hell?!" one shouted, trying to follow my lead, only to be stopped immediately by Harv.
Standing over the student, Harv's shadow loomed large as his deep, intimidating voice rang out: "Hey, kid. Got some ID?" The student froze, and that was the last anyone heard of him.
The Citadel was bustling as usual, even more crowded than the last time I had been here. The campus was divided into four main sections: dorms, shops, barracks, and training grounds. The dorms were closest to the main campus, just below the central buildings. They were divided into three classes: nobles with private rooms and extra benefits, commoners who shared rooms, and the unique dorms.
I had no clue what being in a unique dorm really meant—I only needed to find my room. But everywhere I looked, my eyes were drawn to the shops, the ornate architecture, and the tiny details that made the Citadel feel alive.
No, no, no—dorm first, sightseeing later. Maybe Lilia can come with me.
Following Harv's directions, I approached the building. From the outside, it looked clean and inviting, but eerily empty. Inside, the main section was deserted. I climbed the stairs, aware of a few upperclassmen glaring at me, though I kept my eyes forward to avoid contact. At least I wasn't completely alone.
Finally, I found it: one of the upper rooms of UN-4, its number engraved neatly on the nameplate next to the door. I checked the key—it fit perfectly.
"Correct."
I pushed the door open. The room was surprisingly spacious for a single dorm, complete with a bathroom, a balcony, and a stunning view of the lake surrounding the academy.
I even get my own room?!
Perfect.
I unpacked my essentials, laying everything out neatly on the bed, though I knew I'd have to sort it all later. Curiosity got the better of me—I wanted to know who my neighbors were. I wandered down the hallway, glancing at the doors to the right a few times.
–knock knock
The door opened, and I was met with a familiar, warm face.
"Lilia?!" I called.
"Well, isn't this a surprise? I didn't expect you to be here," Lilia said with a small smile.
We settled in her room. No pun intended. Her space was… unique. Vines and small saplings filled the corners, turning her dorm into something resembling a miniature jungle. It suited her perfectly—a sanctuary for someone skilled in spirit arts.
"As someone in the unique dorms, you can customize your room however you like, without consequences," she explained.
So many possibilities! I thought, my mind racing with ideas for my own space. But that was a problem for future me.
"Anyway," she said, "have you met anyone else?"
She nodded. "I've met Akaline in the room next to mine. He's… a bit much. Very talkative."
We chatted a little more before I decided to continue exploring. Curiosity tugged me down the hall. I knocked on a few doors.
–knock knock…
No response. Huh. I tried the next one, placing my hand on the doorknob.
"It's… open?!" I whispered, eyebrow raised.
Being the inquisitive girl that I am, I stepped inside.
–Creeek
The room looked fairly plain—like someone had just moved in, much like me.
Nothing out of the ordinary… I thought.
Then, a razor-sharp feeling slid down my back. The air grew thick. Something was off.
『Forced Activation: Perfect Vision』
My eyes glowed. The pupils morphed into a purple star-like symbol, and my vision sharpened. Details I'd never noticed before became crystal clear. A faint trail of shadowy particles crawled along the floor, leading directly to a drawer.
Heart racing, I approached and opened it. Inside lay a diary, its cover stained with dried blood.
"Lycos…" I breathed, my voice barely a whisper.
The moment I reached for the diary, a heavy, familiar presence pressed down on me. The air seemed to warp. A voice echoed, calm yet chilling.
Different than before, her eyes transformed completely. The pupils twisted and reshaped, blooming into a purple, star-shaped symbol that pulsed faintly. In that instant, everything sharpened—what had once been hidden was now perfectly clear.
A path of shadowy particles shimmered before her, leading straight to a drawer. Compelled, I followed it and opened the drawer. My breath caught. Inside lay a blood-stained diary, its presence chilling. The word slipped from my lips before I could stop it.
"Lycos."
『Forced change: partial activation』
Reaching for the diary, I felt it—a heavy, suffocating presence, strangely familiar. Hadn't I sensed this before?
Then a voice cut through the silence. "It's not nice to go into someone else's room without permission."
I turned slowly. The presence evaporated, but what stood before me was no less unsettling. Vibrant black hair—recognizable. The student from the other day?! My chest tightened. Black hair was common enough, yet I hadn't noticed him until now. His eyes were just as dark, and a fresh scar ran across his cheek, raw as if struck by something blunt.
A heavy silence fell. My mind scrambled. I forced myself to speak first, desperate to break the tension.
"Hi. I don't think I formally introduced myself—I'm Chloe Valastine. Nice to meet you!"
No reply. Only silence. Slowly, I tried to push the drawer shut behind me, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"..."
"And… you are?" I ventured.
"…Lycos."
"Well, if there's no problem, I'll be taking my leave."
"Wait."
I froze. Turning back, I found him suddenly close—far too close. My breath hitched. I had never been this near to another male besides my father. My cheeks burned crimson.
"Do you have something in your eyes?" His tone was flat, unreadable. "You should probably get that checked out."
"N-noted!" I stammered, bolting past him.
Outside, I gasped for air, clutching my chest. His pressure still lingered, crawling down my spine like frost. "He barely said anything," I whispered to myself, "yet I already felt crushed under his presence."
At least… he let me go.
I sat against my bed, staring at the mess of things I still hadn't unpacked. I should probably deal with it soon, but my mind kept drifting back to him. I'm certain that was remnant.
Remnant. The word alone made me shiver. It's the subclinical form of corruption—when someone exhausts their mana flow to the point of turning into a corrupted human. Impossible, I told myself. The professors would have noticed something like that. Still… I had to stay wary. Morning arrived quietly, the sun streaming gently through my window. For once, nothing could ruin this peaceful moment.
–knock knock
"Ugh–"
–KNOCK KNOCK
"IM COMING, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I shouted, crawling out of bed, hair sticking every which way.
I opened the door and froze. Lilia was there, her cheeks red, avoiding eye contact. My own face burned hot as I realized I was still in my undergarments.
–SLAM!
I rushed to my room, grabbed my uniform, and dressed as quickly as possible, throwing my hair into its usual messy style.
"I don't wanna talk about it," I muttered, spinning around to face her.
"Hehe, you're lucky it wasn't a boy instead of me," Lilia teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.
"Arena?" I asked, trying to shift my focus.
"Yeah," she replied, voice serious now. "Today is the joint training examination for the newcomers. We'll be facing off against the second years to test our strengths."
Every year, first and second years gather at the Citadel arena to see if newcomers are strong enough to enter properly, or if the results of the mana examination were just a fluke. I swallowed, trying not to let my nerves get the better of me.
This… this is it. No messing around now.
I grabbed my katana from its stand, slinging it across my back, and followed Lilia out the door. The air outside was crisp, carrying the faint scent of the lake and the Citadel's sprawling training grounds. Students of all ages filled the arena, the energy electric, the tension almost tangible.
I took a deep breath. Time to show them what I'm made of.
Many students gathered in the training arena, mostly first and second years, to spectate the examinations. Lilia and I found seats up at the front, giving us a perfect view of the action. I couldn't help but smile, a little sinisterly.
"Violent as ever, Chloe," Lilia murmured, her tone teasing.
The first duel was none other than the blonde-haired hero, Retsu. His swordsmanship was flawless, slicing through his opponent with effortless skill. He struck a pose afterward, charming half the female audience with his grin and confident swagger.
"Ugh, what a playboy he is, right, Lilia?" I whispered.
Lilia giggled softly, clearly impressed, but I felt a flicker of disgust. Something about the way he looked directly at me before walking off the arena left a sour taste in my mouth.
『Forced partial activation: Perfect Vision』
(Unbeknownst to her, Retsu had tried to ensnare me in a subtle spell—but her Perfect Vision blocked the spell.)
The next rounds showed the so-called prodigies of the first year: Aria blazed across the field with her rare holy magic, Candice displayed exceptional swordsmanship, and Selina… well, Selina didn't show up for reasons unknown.
Finally, it was my turn. The arena seemed to shrink as all eyes fell on me, the weight of hundreds of gazes pressing down. My heart was hammered, but I forced myself to focus.
Who I was facing? Noland Reverb—the second son of the notoriously arrogant Reverb family. Rumors painted him as a spoiled brat who used his status to get what he wanted. Perfect.
I unsheathed my katana and assumed a simple sword stance. No fancy tricks. No unnecessary flourishes. Just raw, disciplined technique.
Noland sneered, turning to the referee. "Why do I have to fight a lowly commoner like her?"
The referee gave an irritated sigh, clearly tired of his whining. "Status doesn't matter. Fight."
I groaned inwardly at his arrogance, holding my stance. Before he could react, I dashed forward, closing the distance in an instant. Two clean, swift slashes forced him on the defensive.
Noland barely blocked them, his eyes widening in genuine fear rather than skillful concern. I pressed the advantage, relentless. One more strike, and his sword flew from his hand. A quick feint and a trip later, he was sprawled on the ground.
"Keuk!"
His pride shattered, yet he wasn't done. Gritting his teeth, he scrambled to his feet.
"Where the hell do you think you're going!" he growled.
"I guess someone doesn't know how to take a loss," I replied, voice calm, almost bored.
Before he could regain his stance, I struck again—this time with a kick aimed at the one spot no man wants touched. He collapsed immediately, hands clutching in pain, his face contorted into a mix of agony and humiliation.
The arena went silent. The spectators were frozen, stunned by the unexpected turn of events. Noland's scornful arrogance had been completely obliterated in a matter of seconds.
I sheathed my katana and took a step back, satisfaction curling in my chest. That'll teach him to underestimate a commoner.
Noland had to be carried off the arena on a stretcher, groaning in pain, while I returned to my seat. The spectators dared not speak, and the atmosphere felt heavy with awe. One way to establish dominance—clearly, I had made my mark.
Now, the audience buzzed with anticipation for the next duel: the prince's match. Whispers spread like wildfire.
The prince stepped into the arena, radiating nobility. In his hand was the kingdom's treasure, the king's blade a golden sword encrusted with a jewel at its center, passed down through generations. The sword wasn't just a symbol; it was said to amplify the wielder's mana, granting exceptional—but balanced—buffs. Today, he wielded it not to cheat, but to display status.
Across from him, Lycos stood silent and gloomy, the same black-haired boy I had encountered before. His eyes were dark, unreadable, and his weaponry unconventional: a flintlock in his right hand and a short-barreled musket in his left. The firearms were modified, looking nothing like standard issue weapons used by city guards or soldiers.
Students whispered nervously. "Black hair… isn't that a sign of a bad omen?" one murmured. "How unlucky for the prince."
The referee raised his hand, signaling the start.
The prince sneered first. "What an unusual setup. Surely you understand the limitations of firearms?" His disdain dripped from every word. "Perhaps you should forfeit now—spare yourself humiliation, and leave with whatever dignity you can salvage."
Lycos tilted his head lazily, his tone indifferent. "Blah, blah, blah… let's begin already."
The prince's brow furrowed in irritation. With a flash, he lunged forward, sword pointed at Lycos.
Lycos calmly aimed his musket.
–Bang! Bang! Bang!
The prince barely managed to block the bullets, each one shattering on impact.
"Keuk!" he grunted, startled. "Impossible… a musket should only fire once before reloading!"
High above, the Author leaned forward, a smirk playing across his face. His creation, Lycos, was performing exactly as intended. Lycos was exceptional, a wunderkind whose mastery of mantra—a rare internal energy similar to mana—set him apart. While few students, roughly three percent, could even access mantra, none matched Lycos' precision, power, or resonance. Though he lacked conventional mana, his internal energy compensated.
The prince gritted his teeth, undeterred. It doesn't matter. I can still win.
He dashed forward again, sword gleaming. Lycos mirrored his previous tactic, musket raised.
–Bang! Bang! Bang!
The prince parried each shot with skill, closing the distance. Lycos then adjusted his stance, gripping the stock of his musket with both hands. The prince swung his sword in a wide arc—
–Swoosh!
But Lycos blocked it effortlessly. The musket shimmered faintly, enveloped in a subtle, pulsating dark blue glow.
Mana? No… this isn't mana… it's mantra!?
I felt a chill run down my spine. The boy I had dismissed as quiet, reserved, and perhaps ordinary, was anything but. His body flowed with energy unlike anything I had ever seen, internal force manifesting through his unconventional weapons. I watched, captivated—and admittedly, a little worried.
Lycos pointed his flintlock straight at the prince's face. A low-pitched, piercing, energy-laden shriek echoed from the weapon, reverberating through the arena. The prince's eyes widened in terror—he could already sense his fate.
Staggering, defenseless, he muttered under his breath, "I… I'm going to lose… How could I, the prince of Unicrest, lose to someone with black hair!?"
–zzzzzZZT
Lycos' voice rang out, calm and precise. "Mantra Art: Simeío Kenó."
–KABOO!
A massive, dark-blue energy beam erupted from the small musket, striking the prince squarely in the chest. Flames licked his clothes, burning his hair and clothing. He didn't die, but the sheer force and intensity left him writhing, heavily injured, barely able to move.
The crowd fell completely silent, eyes wide in shock. The prince… defeated… by someone with black hair…?
He was eventually carried off the arena on a stretcher, groaning in pain. Murmurs and whispers filled the air as the spectators slowly dispersed, stunned by the unexpected outcome.
Lilia and I left the arena together, weaving through the dwindling crowd.
"That boy… using firearms like that… I've never seen anything like him. Who is he?" I asked.
Lilia paused, lips curling into a smirk. "Lycos. I met him the other day… you kind of barged into his room."
Her smug expression, hand covering her mouth, immediately set off alarm bells in my mind. That face… the one I had seen too many times. Scheming. Mischief. Trouble.
"This can't be good," I muttered under my breath.
"Oh, how felicitous of you, Lilia!" I shot back, cheeks blazing red.
She giggled, teasingly. "What's that supposed to mean?"
I dug my fingers into my hair, flustered beyond words.
She simply laughed. "Keep doing that and you'll go bald, you know."