Chapter 13: First Class
The morning sun glared off the polished steel spires of Hero Academy as I stepped through the towering gates.
It was a surreal moment. I'd seen this place countless times through the eyes of a reader described in paragraphs, commented on in side notes, debated in forums. And now here I was, walking across its sprawling courtyard as one of the students.
The Academy wasn't just a school. It was a crucible, where the most talented of humanity were forged into weapons sharp enough to cut through calamities. Walls bristling with defensive arrays surrounded the campus, mana crystals embedded into their frames. Every corner pulsed faintly with protective enchantments.
For most people, the sight inspired awe. For me? It inspired dread.
Because I knew what would happen here.
---
Class A
The letters burned in my mind as I navigated the maze-like corridors, students buzzing around me like a hive. Freshmen, each wearing their new uniforms with pride or anxiety, clustered in groups. Some were already posturing, trying to establish hierarchies. Others whispered excitedly about the rumors of who else had been accepted.
I walked silently, keeping my head down, avoiding eye contact. The less attention, the better.
Eventually, I stopped in front of the door.
CLASS [A]
The plaque gleamed faintly under the hallway lights. This was it. The infamous classroom. The place where countless schemes, rivalries, and disasters would erupt in the novel.
I closed my eyes for a moment, steeling myself. I had no intention of being swept up in the chaos. I would sit quietly, train, and build my strength in peace.
Or so I thought.
---
"Yo, you going in or not?"
The voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Rough, impatient, distinctly feminine.
Turning, I froze.
Standing before me was a girl who could have stepped right out of the pages I once wrote about her. Emma Braveheart.
Short brown hair framed her face, her bangs brushing just above crystal-blue eyes that seemed to catch the light in a way that made them almost glow. Her features were sharp yet undeniably feminine, carrying a bold charm that set her apart from the delicate beauties around her. A small, annoyed pout tugged at her cherry-red lips.
She was beautiful painfully so. But it wasn't just beauty. It was presence.
Her uniform fit snugly against a body that was lithe yet toned, evidence of years of training. The way she stood shoulders squared, chin lifted slightly spoke of someone used to standing her ground. Her father's blood ran through her, the daughter of Alastor President of Hero Association and vice-director of the Nexus Council, an S-rank warrior.
In the novel, she had been a fan favorite. Brash, tomboyish, sometimes impatient, but always kind at heart. The type of heroine who'd punch first and ask questions later, but who would also stay up all night helping a friend in need.
Seeing her in person was… overwhelming.
"Move it!"
Before I could muster a response, she shoved me aside, not harshly but firmly, and pushed the door open.
I stumbled a step, caught off guard, then let out a quiet, bitter laugh.
"That's Emma for you," I muttered under my breath.
---
The classroom was spotless, its rows of retractable seats gleaming under the light. The room was tiered like a lecture hall, with two descending rows, each seat granting a clear view of the central podium.
Students were already scattered throughout, some chatting, others silently observing. But my eyes were immediately drawn to two figures.
On the far back row to the right, lounging with the air of someone who thought the world belonged to him, was a blonde youth. His clear green eyes glimmered like polished gems, his jawline sharp, his posture impeccable. Girls stole glances at him, blushing when his gaze briefly passed over them.
Eric William.
The rival. The haughty scion of the Willam family, tied to the Stromking Guild. Typical arrogant young master vibes, but underneath that façade, the potential to grow into one of humanity's strongest. His arc had been one of the most satisfying to write a descent into arrogance, followed by a slow, painful climb toward humility and strength.
And directly in front of him sat a girl who rivaled Emma's beauty in a different way.
Sleek black hair fell to her waist, only partially held back by a simple pin. Her face was delicate, almost porcelain, untouched by makeup, yet her natural beauty radiated a quiet allure. She ignored the hushed voices around her, eyes fixed firmly on a book, her aloof demeanor creating an invisible wall that no one dared breach.
Alice Nightveil.
Daughter of Edward Nightveil, Guildmaster of the Death Guild—the number one guild in the human domain. Unlike Eric, she carried no arrogance. But her coldness was a defense, forged by years of political schemes and assassination attempts. She was intelligent, cautious, and strong. A pillar of stability in the chaos that surrounded the protagonist.
Seeing them together, I couldn't help but sigh. The main cast. The people around whom this world revolved.
And me? I was determined to be as far from them as possible.
I chose a seat on the second row, left side. Far enough to keep out of the spotlight. Close enough not to seem suspicious. The perfect place for a mob character.
I dropped into the seat and exhaled.
"Just stay quiet. Stay alive," I whispered.
---
The minutes ticked by. 7:30 A.M. Class would start at 8:00.
I leaned forward, resting my head on my arms, fatigue dragging at me. After Ironfang Ridge, after Bhargav, after the sudden influx of Keal Arden's memories, my body screamed for rest. Orientation day would be dull anyway. I could risk closing my eyes for a few minutes.
Or so I thought.
"Attention!"
A voice like a thunderclap jolted me upright.
The instructor had arrived.
She stood at the podium, her presence instantly commanding the room. Tall, poised, with jet-black hair cascading to her waist. But it was her eyes violet, luminous, sharp that captured everyone's attention.
Daina Frostheart.
The Flame Queen.
My heartbeat spiked. I knew her. Of course I knew her. I had spent hours writing and revising her character. Her seductive aura, the rare enchantress art she had cultivated, the way her very presence tugged at the minds of men and demons alike. A battlefield controller, feared not for her brute strength but for her ability to turn allies into enemies with a whisper.
And now she was standing here, in the flesh.
She slapped her hand against the podium, a sharp bam reverberating through the air. A shockwave rippled outward, forcing half the class including me back in our seats. Only Emma, Eric, Alice, and a few others remained unaffected.
"There will be no slacking off in my classroom!" she declared, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.
My pulse hammered in my ears. This was the real beginning.
The room quieted under Daina Frostheart sharp gaze. Her presence seemed to coil through the air like a living serpent silken yet dangerous.
She placed a sleek black tablet on the podium and tapped it once. Names began scrolling across its glowing surface.
"Alright," she said, her tone calm but cutting. "First day, first order of business. Attendance."
My stomach knotted. I already knew what was coming.
Her violet eyes flicked to the top of the list.
"Rank 2017, Kael Arden."
The first name.
Of course it was.
Heat rushed to my face as dozens of heads turned. Some students barely concealed their smirks. Others looked at me with mild curiosity, as though trying to place where someone so lowly had crawled in from.
I raised my hand, forcing steadiness into my voice.
"Present."
Daina gave a small nod and continued without comment. But the damage was already done.
I slumped slightly in my seat. Lowest in the class. Fantastic start.
---
"Rank 1232, Tina Morrison."
"Present!"
"Rank 845, Julius Dwarn."
"Present!"
One by one, the ranks climbed higher as names were called. My place at the very bottom became more painfully obvious with each passing moment.
And then came the ones who stood out like beacons.
"Rank 15, Emma Braveheart."
"Present." Emma's voice rang clear, confident, carrying that tomboyish edge that made her so distinct.
"Rank 12, Tommy Stone."
"Present."
"Rank 8, Alice Nightveil."
The aloof girl with sleek black hair didn't even look up from her book as she spoke softly, "Present." Her voice was cool, distant, carrying an almost glacial detachment.
A faint shiver ran down my spine. In the novel, Alice had always been one of the most enigmatic characters. Her strength, her loyalty to her guild, her hidden wounds… It was strange seeing her like this, just another student in a uniform.
"Rank 5, Chen Lu."
"Present."
"Rank 3, Eric William."
The blonde youth leaned back in his chair, green eyes gleaming. His "Present" was spoken with a drawl, casual yet smug, as though simply being third was beneath him. The girls watching him sighed, cheeks pink, while the boys muttered under their breaths.
I knew that arrogance well. Eric William—the rival. Born with everything, carrying himself like a king among peasants. And yet… in the future, his arrogance would be broken, reforged into something stronger.
But right now? He was the very picture of the entitled young master.
---
"Rank 2, Melle Brownhall."
"Present."
"Rank 1, Lucus Morningstar."
Silence.
Daina's eyes narrowed as she scanned the room.
"Rank 1, Lucus Morningstar?"
Still no response. A ripple of whispers spread through the class. Students craned their necks, searching. Some looked confused, others amused.
My lips pressed into a thin line. I knew this scene. Of course I did.
Lucus was never on time when the world expected him to be. He arrived when he decided—always dramatic, always unforgettable.
Just as Daina reached for her tablet, ready to mark him absent, the classroom door swung open with a slow, deliberate creak.
Every head turned.
A figure stepped inside.
Short black hair. Eyes the deep, piercing red of fresh-forged steel. His uniform fit his lean, muscular frame perfectly, accentuating the aura that rolled off him like heat from a furnace. His jawline was sharp, his movements precise yet unhurried, like a predator strolling into familiar territory.
The air shifted.
It wasn't just his looks though he was handsome enough to rival actors, enough to make half the girls flush instantly. It was the presence. The sheer gravity that seemed to bend the atmosphere around him.
Lucus Morningstar.
"Pardon my tardiness," he said, bowing slightly, his deep voice calm, respectful. "I had a slight accident on the way here. I'll ensure it won't happen again."
His eyes never left Daina's. Not for a second.
For a fleeting moment, surprise flickered across her face. She was used to men faltering under her enchantress aura. Yet Lucus looked at her as though she were any other instructor. Unfazed. Unmoved.
"Interesting," she murmured, too softly for most to hear. Then, louder: "Very well. Find a seat."
"Thank you."
Lucus inclined his head, then walked with measured steps to the first row on the right side. He sat, back straight, hands folded neatly on the desk.
The whispers in the room grew louder, students buzzing like flies drawn to honey.
---
I leaned back in my seat, watching the scene unfold with a hollow laugh.
That's the protagonist for you.
Late, yet praised for his dignity. Radiating charisma so strong it crushed the room's order without lifting a finger.
If it had been me? If I'd walked in late? I'd be incinerated by now.
The world bent to Lucus Morningstar's rhythm. Always had, always would.
And me? I was just a mob.
Or at least… that's what they thought.
I clenched my fists under the desk, nails digging into my palms.
I won't be him. I won't be Lucus. But I won't fade either. I'll carve my own path. I'll be Kael Arden.
The vow echoed silently in my chest as the first day of Hero Academy truly began.