"Good morning, everyone," said a man with curly brown hair that brushed his shoulders, a pair of round spectacles perched neatly on his pointed nose. A book rested in his hand as he strode confidently into the classroom.
"Morning, Mr. Edwin."
Godfrey caught the unified response of his soon-to-be classmates as he entered, following closely behind a girl his age. Her golden-white hair was tied into a sleek ponytail, glimmering faintly beneath the fluorescent lights.
"We have two transfer students joining us today," Edwin announced with a light, almost playful tone. "Your sophomore year will certainly be more interesting, as both of them are already… rather popular."
Godfrey's fingers tightened imperceptibly around the strap of his backpack. His ocean-blue eyes shifted to the girl half a meter away. Porcelain skin, wide golden-orange eyes, and lips that glistened faintly – glossed, no doubt, and not with the ordinary kind.
"Why don't you both introduce yourselves?" Edwin's voice echoed warmly from the front.
"I'm Isolde Pendragon."
'Pendragon!' Godfrey's pupils shrank. He wasn't alone; across the room, expressions shifted instantly. Whispers hissed like wind through dry grass, but what lingered most was the unmistakable awe shimmering in the sophomores' eyes.
Who didn't know the Pendragons? A family of summoners, legends for consistently birthing dragon summoners.
Godfrey cleared his throat, catching a sidelong glance from Isolde, who raised one willowy eyebrow in faint amusement.
"Good morning, everyone. I'm Godfrey Daniels, and I hope we can all—"
"You're the hero's trash!" The outburst came from Dale, a boy with a close-cropped haircut, his hands gripping the edge of his desk as if he had just unearthed buried treasure.
"Daniels, from Amazon, right?" Another boy, snow-white hair, an almost angelic face resting lazily on his palm, arched a brow.
Godfrey forced a thin smile. "Yes."
"It's the trash," Snow muttered with a shrug, eyes drifting back toward the window. A ripple of laughter fluttered through the class, some girls muffling it behind their palms, others chuckling openly.
"Godfrey is a human being, just like you. You don't call people trash." Edwin's rebuke was firm, but Godfrey knew better. Words carried little weight here. This was Manhattan Summoners High, one of the finest institutions in the world. Its students were heirs of wealth, prestige, and ancient legacies. They weren't just being educated, they were being groomed to lead the next generation.
'Am I not the same?' he thought bitterly.
He hadn't grown up poor. His father had been a war hero, famed for halting a horde of a hundred thousand orcs, holding the line until his final breath. Under such brilliance, the world expected his son to shine just as bright. But Godfrey hadn't awakened.
Awakening early, without the aid of the ceremony, was considered proof of extraordinary potential. His father's towering legacy made Godfrey's failure all the more humiliating. To the world, he was a blemish on a hero's name.
"Go on, sit down. Class is about to begin." Edwin's voice was gentle.
Godfrey's eyes trailed after Isolde, the Pendragon ice princess herself. She had awakened at the impossible age of one. The news had once been a global sensation. He had grown up hearing of it in secondhand awe.
He brushed aside the heaviness pressing on his chest and slid into a seat near the back. Isolde, unsurprisingly, chose the window row. Snow was directly in front of her.
"Godfrey," Edwin called suddenly. "You'll be joining the freshmen for their awakening ceremony tomorrow morning."
The muffled snickers of his classmates were unmistakable. Lips trembled with suppressed laughter, eyes glistened with mockery. Godfrey gave a quiet nod. By now, he was used to it.
Once, he had dreamed of grandeur, summoning a magnificent beast, becoming one of the admired boys of the academy, the kind with loyal friends and pretty girls' gazes trailing after him like moths to flame.
Now, thinking back, that dream felt almost laughable.
"Now then," Edwin's voice lifted, pulling Godfrey from his thoughts. "We all know of the first Summoner, Adam." He flipped open his notebook on the lectern. "And his summon?"
The class hushed instantly.
"The Prisoner of the Golden Headband, better known as the Monkey King. A King-tier summon, celebrated for his intelligence and unmatched battle prowess. A being capable of duplicating and mimicking the traits of any opponent." Edwin paused, letting the weight of those words sink in. "But he vanished… into a white dungeon gate. Which brings us to today's topic: what are dungeon gates, what are their traits, and why have they remained for over a century?"
Several hands shot up, eager to show off knowledge.
Godfrey tuned out. His gaze drifted to the world beyond the window, white clouds drifting lazily, sunlight spilling across rooftops. That was enough for him.
Break arrived. Godfrey rose, only to find Dale striding toward him with two others, Orwen and Cecil, flanking him.
The scowl on Dale's face melted into a practiced smile as he turned instead toward Isolde. "I'm Dale," he said, extending his hand.
Isolde brushed past him without a glance. Silence followed her exit, broken by Dale's sharp laugh. He turned back, now facing Godfrey.
"Don't you feel like trash?" Dale sneered. "Your father threw his life away against those orcs because your mother was about to give birth to you. That day, we lost a diamond and got garbage instead."
'Keep believing that,' Godfrey thought, walking past him with his hands in his pockets. He wouldn't take the bait. Not against Dale, one of the academy's strongest sophomores, and certainly not after being so plainly ignored by Isolde.
But as he moved down the hallway, an arm hooked around his neck. Godfrey turned slightly, green hair, sharp eyes, a lean build. If Dale was a bull, this one was a wolf.
"Heh. Look at him, scared already," a plainer boy jeered, stepping up beside him. Godfrey's irritation soured into caution when he noticed the figure trailing them, Snow. Clearly, these two were his lackeys.
Isolde was untouchable. Godfrey, on the other hand, was fair game.
"Heard your father's summon was the Gold Eater Colossus," the green-haired boy, Siegfried, said with a wink. "Bet it left your family a mountain of gold. How about buying us something after school?"
"Leave him," Snow's voice cut through like ice.
The two lackeys faltered, puzzled, until Snow stretched his leg forward, drawing attention to the loosened lace of his shoe.
"The son of a war hero tying the shoes of his classmate," Siegfried snickered, shoving Godfrey toward him. "Fitting, isn't it? A reminder of where you belong."
"You've got hands, don't you?" Godfrey's voice was flat. "Or do you just want to make sure the whole school knows you can't tie your own shoes?"
Snow's eyes narrowed. A faint, eerie shimmer kindled within his irises.
In the next heartbeat, Godfrey found himself teetering over the balcony rail of the cafeteria, third floor, wind tugging at his clothes, the ground yawning below.
Someone's grip on his jacket was the only thing keeping him from plunging headlong down this great height!
"He–he jumped?!"
"What in the world, did you see that?"
"Creep just climbed the rail on his own!"
A cacophony of voices fell into Godfrey's ears, allowing him to figure out Snow must have used his beast's ability on him!
....
A/N: I hope you enjoy the opening of this novel. Support by adding to your library and giving a power stone or two. Thank you.