Nagi and I walked side by side toward our classroom, the hallway slowly filling with voices as other students made their way in. When we stepped inside, the room immediately felt different from any classroom I had known before.
It was wide and deep, built in a stadium-style layout. The floor escalated in straight, tiered levels toward the back, giving every seat a clear view of the front. At the lowest level sat the board, spanning the wall, with a single teacher's table positioned neatly before it.
The desk seats were not fixed in place, and again, there were noticeably more seats than students, allowing everyone to choose freely where they wanted to sit.
My eyes swept across the room, and one familiar presence stood out immediately. Princess Polaris was already there, seated alone with her usual aloof posture.
Soon, Finster will claim the front row. He always did. His entire group gathered with him, sticking close as though the front row belonged to them.
I turned in the opposite direction and walked toward the back center rows. I would have taken a window seat, but it was already claimed.
A scarlet-haired boy with silver highlights sat there alone, eyes fixed outside as if the rest of the room did not exist. Kenth Drakemont. The school loner. Someone who would, ironically, become one of Finster's friends someday despite their polar opposite personality.
Nagi sat beside me without a second thought.
"You really don't have to force yourself to sit with me, you know," I said quietly.
She tilted her head, a playful grin forming. "Oh? Were you worried about me?" she teased, then added, "Or are you just self-conscious?"
Of course, I was conscious. She was my favorite female lead after all. But there was no way I could say that to her outright, so I just scoffed and looked forward.
"Don't read into it."
More students filtered in. Finster entered alone, his eyes scanning the room, clearly looking for classmates he already knew. Then he stopped.
A boy with faint teal hair and violet highlights waved casually. Finster's expression eased as he walked over.
"Oh," I muttered under my breath. "That's probably Maku Koshitsu. The crowned prince of Taiyo."
The two began chatting as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Their energies seemed to resonate effortlessly. To anyone watching, it looked like a simple friendly exchange.
I knew better.
Behind those smiles was something twisted. Maku never approached someone without purpose.
Soon after, Azalea arrived with a brown haired girl streaked with yellow highlights. They spoke peacefully as they walked, their conversation light. As expected, they eventually drifted toward Finster's group, the circle around him growing.
The room continued to fill until firm footsteps echoed from the entrance.
A man stepped inside wearing the academy's professor uniform. It was clean and structured, marked with subtle insignias of rank and discipline. His gray hair carried sharp red highlights, and his face suggested someone in his forties or early fifties. He stood with the calm authority of a seasoned instructor.
He surveyed the room once, then frowned.
"Good morning, gems in the rough," he said. "My name is Heather White. I am your homeroom professor, and I will be in charge of your Combat Discipline, one of your many mandatory subjects."
He glanced down at the tablet resting in his hand and quietly checked the time, his thumb tapping the screen once before he looked back up at us.
"It seems I arrived 10 minutes early," he said, his voice calm and unhurried. "Before we officially begin roll call, is there anything you would like to ask?"
The room stirred immediately. But before anyone else could even think twice, Nagi's hand shot straight into the air.
The professor's eyes drifted toward the back rows, settling on her raised hand.
"Yes," he said, pointing casually. "You, in the back. The one with pink hair."
Nagi straightened in her seat, suddenly composed despite her excitement. "Forgive me for asking, sir," she said politely, "but you look oddly similar to the royal knight of His Majesty Rathvern Apparecio Celestice. Are you perhaps related?"
For half a second, the classroom went completely silent.
Then the professor exhaled faintly.
"That would be because he is my older brother."
"Oh."
The single syllable escaped from several mouths at once.
Curiosity ignited instantly. Murmurs spread across the room like sparks catching dry grass. Students leaned toward each other, some whispering excitedly, others openly staring at Heather White with renewed interest. A few hands rose hesitantly, questions tumbling out one after another.
How close were they? Did that mean he had served at court? Was combat discipline taught differently by someone with royal ties?
Heather answered a few, brushing them aside with calm professionalism, never revealing more than necessary. Before their curiosity could spiral completely out of control, a sharp bell rang through the room.
"Alright," he said, lifting a hand. "That will be enough. Let's begin."
The room quieted immediately.
"As you were already informed yesterday in the marticulation ceremony by our headmaster Éclair on your dorm ID's, each one of you must already know your ranks," Heather continued, tapping his tablet once more, "we will start with roll call based on that."
"Rank twenty," Heather announced.
Names followed. One after another. Voices responded from different corners of the room, some confident, some hesitant. While he continued reading, Nagi leaned toward me again, lowering her voice.
"Oh yeah," she whispered. "I forgot to ask you about yesterday."
I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.
"You came back looking like an old avocado," she continued cheerfully. "So what's your rank?"
An old avocado. Seriously?
I ignored the comment entirely and shrugged. "I didn't have time to check. I don't know either."
She blinked at me. "You really don't know?"
"Nope."
She stared for a moment longer, then shrugged it off.
"Rank ten. Kenth Drakemont."
A faint response came from the window side. So faint that I almost missed it.
"Here." Barely audible. More like air moving than a voice.
Heather nodded anyway, as though the reply he gave was perfecly clear.
Next. "Cwall Solace."
"Here."
Both Nagi and I flinched.
The voice came from directly in front of us.
I stared at the back of the student's head, my brow furrowing. When did he get there? I was certain that the seat had been empty earlier.
Cwall Solace sat perfectly still, posture relaxed, presence thin to the point of being nearly nonexistent. The novel had described him as someone whose existence slipped through perception itself.
Apparently, that was not an exaggeration.
"Rank eight. Finster Blume Regleia."
"Here," Finster replied, his tone carrying an audible sigh. He leaned back slightly and turned his head toward Maku. "Seriously, how high is your rank? This bet is rigged."
Maku grinned without shame. "Obviously. I only bet when I know I'm going to win."
"That's scummy."
"Quiet."
Heather's voice snapped through the room like a blade.
Both boys froze.
"You two better shut your mouths," Heather continued evenly, "before I give you your first demerits."
The effect was immediate. Finster straightened. Maku closed his mouth.
"Next," Heather said. "Rank seven. Azalea Regleia Blume."
"Here," Azalea replied, her voice steady. She sighed softly afterward. "I told you from the start you were throwing away ten thousand school points."
Finster grimaced but did not respond.
"Rank six. Matthew Pier Salinin."
"Oh. Here," I replied, raising my hand slightly.
Rank six.
Not bad. Better than average. Still, I could not help but feel a faint disappointment. Rank five or four would have been nicer. High enough to avoid being dismissed, low enough to avoid too much attention.
Early ranking discrimination was one of the tropes I hated most. People stopped seeing effort and only saw numbers.
"Rank five. Nagi Satou."
"Here," she said brightly, practically glowing.
She turned toward me immediately. "Hehe. Take that. I'm higher ranked than you."
"Rank four. Maku Koshitsu."
"You scammer," Finster muttered before he could stop himself. "How dare you. You said you were on the lower end of the ranks."
Urg.
Ow.
Heather lightly struck Finster on the head with the edge of his tablet, the sound sharp enough to be heard.
"That will be your second warning, Mister Regleia," he said calmly. "Or would you like to experience what happens on the third as well."
Finster stiffened. "No, sir."
"Then Mister Koshitsu."
"Yes, I'm here," Maku replied cheerfully, turning just enough to grin at Finster. Finster glared back, veins nearly visible.
This was new.
That interaction never happened in the novel. Lies and deceit usually don't work on Finster since he can read emotions. Did something happen already?
A butterfly effect was already taking shape, even though I had not directly interfered with anything yet.
"Rank three. Polaris Apparecio Celestice."
"Here," she replied coldly.
Heather nodded. "Good. Rank two. Waffel Popovich Erlin."
"Here."
"Oh, as expected of the pride of Tower," Azalea exclaimed without thinking.
Waffel's ears turned red instantly. He scratched the back of his head, clearly embarrassed by the attention.
Heather allowed it to pass.
"Good," he said. "Rank one. Tasora Rig—"
But before he could finish, the world stopped.
The classroom doors burst open.
I turned just to see Tasora rushing inside, hair slightly disheveled, breath uneven as her eyes darted across the stadium-style room in frantic search of an empty seat.
Her foot caught slightly on the edge of the floor as she stumbled forward, catching herself at the last second as she was approaching me.
This girl…
At least this part was still consistent with the novel, I thought as I let out a defeated sigh.