Velren sat still, processing the name that had just been announced.
'Valtheris...'
The ruling family of the Elyndra Kingdom, a name that carried centuries of power, influence, and legacy. Even Velren, who had spent his entire life in the depths of Sylmare Forest, knew that much. He could still recall the long lectures from the old man, urging him to study at least the basics of the neighboring kingdom.
The Valtheris bloodline has governed Elyndra for generations. Their rule is what shaped this land into the kingdom it is today.
Velren had never paid much attention back then, finding it dull compared to training with Fenrir. But now, that name resonated with something else entirely.
Not just because it belonged to the royal family.
But because of her given name.
Solanne.
The girl he had saved from those mercenaries long ago.
Back then, Fenrir had told him that she was fine after he blacked out. That was all Velren needed to hear at the time, enough to reassure him. He had never expected to see her again, never even thought about it beyond that day.
Yet here she was.
Ten years later, standing before the entire academy.
Did she even remember him?
As she stepped onto the stage, the hall seemed to still in anticipation. Solanne Valtheris carried herself with a poise befitting someone of her lineage. Her golden hair cascaded past her shoulders in elegant waves, catching the light and shimmering like molten sunlight. Her features were delicate yet defined—a refined beauty sculpted by noble blood, with striking fiery-red eyes that seemed to hold a quiet intensity beneath their calm surface.
Velren found himself instinctively comparing her to Amara, the elven Student Council president who had spoken before.
Amara's beauty was ethereal, almost otherworldly—sharp, commanding, the kind that made people unconsciously straighten their backs in her presence. A beauty that carried authority.
Solanne's, on the other hand, was something else entirely.
A regal elegance, effortless and warm, yet undeniably distant. She was beautiful, not in a way that demanded attention, but in a way that made it impossible to ignore her presence.
Velren exhaled slowly, shifting in his seat. This was unexpected.
Would she recognize him?
He wasn't sure if he wanted the answer.
***
The entrance ceremony went unsurprisingly well, concluding with Solanne's brief yet composed speech. The Student Council President had left the stage first, followed by the Grandmaster, and finally, Solanne herself. Applause echoed throughout the grand hall as she stepped down, though her face remained unreadable.
With the formalities now over, the first-year students were promptly instructed to attend their respective classes. The hall gradually emptied, a wave of black-uniformed figures were dispersing into the sprawling academy grounds.
The academy's lecture halls were nothing short of grand, each designed to accommodate large groups of students. Sunlight streamed in through massive glass windows, casting a warm glow over the interconnected desks and seamlessly joined seats that stretched across the room in neat rows. The air buzzed with chatter, an excited energy hanging over the newly enrolled students as they settled in.
In a corner spot of the class, a boy idly twirled his pen between his fingers, the small metallic clicks occasionally interrupting the steady hum of conversation around him. His expression was unreadable—whether out of boredom or simple detachment, it was hard to tell.
Velren let his gaze wander across the classroom, taking in his surroundings with mild curiosity.
Elyndra Grand Academy followed a structured class system, organizing students into four distinct groups per academic year—ranging from Class 1-A to Class 1-D for first-year students.
Velren had been assigned to Class 1-C, though he had no idea what that truly meant.
How did the academy place students into their respective classes in the first place? Was it entirely random? Or was there some meticulous, well-planned method behind it? Perhaps a test determined it? But that last possibility left him uncertain.
After all, he hadn't undergone any test to enter the academy.
All he had to do was hand over the envelope Gramps had given him, and that was it. No evaluations, no trials. Just a simple exchange, and he was in.
Could it be that Gramps had pulled a few strings behind the scenes?
'That old man? Surely not...'
For now, there were no clear answers. But one thing was certain—these unfamiliar faces around him would be his classmates for the next year.
A sudden shift in the atmosphere silenced the room. The idle chatter that had once filled the air disappeared as the heavy sound of the classroom door creaking open echoed through the space, revealing a man entering.
The first thing Velren noticed was the man's black hair, loosely tied into a low ponytail, with a few strands falling over his sharp, chiseled face. His eyes—piercing and cold—swept over the room with an unreadable gazes. There was nothing warm about him, nothing inviting. Dressed in the academy's instructor robes, the long black coat swayed slightly as he walked.
He reached the podium at the front of the classroom, resting both hands on its surface before speaking.
"My name is Professor Renald Vekar, your homeroom instructor."
His tone was curt, devoid of any unnecessary pleasantries.
"I don't care who you are, where you came from, or what ridiculous titles you may hold outside these walls. None of that matters here."
A brief pause. His cold gaze lingered on a few students before continuing.
"Elyndra Grand Academy is not a place for the weak. It does not cater to the fragile or the complacent. If you are under the delusion that simply enrolling here guarantees you success, allow me to correct that misconception now."
His words carried weight—an undeniable, chilling truth behind them.
"Every year, students drop out, break under pressure, or worse—fail to meet the academy's standards. If you cannot prove your worth, you will be cast aside. Simple as that."
The room remained dead silent.
Then, without missing a beat, he delivered the next blow.
"With that in mind, your first Practical Evaluation will take place three days from now. Consider it an initiation, a test to determine whether you even deserve to be here."
A shift rippled through the class. Some students tensed, while others exchanged nervous glances. A few, Velren noticed, looked unfazed.
The Professor straightened, sweeping his gaze across the room once more.
"You have been warned. I suggest you prepare accordingly."
Velren exhaled through his nose, leaning back slightly in his seat.
"...Great."