After they landed, Aaron clapped his hands once—loud enough to slice through the noise.
"Form four rows and stand in formation."
His tone was casual, almost lazy, but the students moved instantly. After a quick headcount, he spun around and led the group forward.
Kizen loomed before them like a fortress carved out of myth—towering walls, obsidian towers, and ancient stonework laced with black magic that shimmered faintly in the morning light. A giant gatekeeper pushed open the massive gate, and the students filed through one layer of security magic after another, each more intense than the last.
Inside, other groups of freshmen were already waiting. Judging by their equally exhausted faces, they had survived their own brand of "welcome to Kizen."
"We'll be moving quickly. This way, please!"
Assistants appeared as if they had been rehearsing this for weeks. The entire process was a machine.
Uniform distribution → changing rooms → new instructions.
"Please finish changing and gather outside within five minutes."
Five minutes. Kizen clearly believed in efficiency bordering on cruelty.
Knox, caught up in the brisk pace—and admittedly excited—quickly stepped into the changing room and got to work.
He'd seen illustrations of the uniform before. He'd even seen the manhwa panels. But seeing it up close, with his own eyes?
The trousers were jet-black, sleek, and perfectly tailored—borderline formalwear. They fit his frame as if someone had taken measurements straight from his very soul. The shirt was crisp white, the tie a deep red, and the suit itself was art.
Dark, sharp lines. Silver accents. Kizen's emblem gleaming on the chest like a badge of both pride and danger.
Knox buttoned it, smoothed the fabric, then stepped toward the mirror.
…Okay. I already knew I was handsome. But this? This uniform is basically a handsomeness buff.
For a second—just a tiny second—he almost understood how someone like a certain pink-haired elf became a professional narcissist. He wasn't there yet, but damn, the path was right in front of him.
The design itself was a perfect blend of suit and uniform—stylish enough to wear straight into a banquet without raising an eyebrow.
Then he felt it.
A faint hum under his fingertips.
"Oh… it's enchanted?" Knox murmured.
A quick inspection confirmed it. This wasn't just clothing—it was armor. A good one, at that.
"Tougher than most actual armor," he muttered, a little impressed.
Kizen didn't play around.
"Two minutes until assembly!"
At the assistant's urgent call, Knox calmly put on his shoes and stepped outside.
"Everyone out now! We're moving!"
Knox and the other male students exited the changing room, while the female students emerged from the opposite one.
The moment the doors slid open, the two groups stepped out at the same time—and, weirdly enough, everyone just… stopped.
The air between the boys and girls froze like someone had hit pause on reality. Wide-eyed, awkward, half-panicked stares flew across the clearing. Knox didn't freeze, but even he had to blink.
Wait. Why does this feel like a Newtype contact scene? Knox murmured.
That same strange, silent pressure—the kind that makes characters in Gundam suddenly understand each other's souls—hung in the air. The only thing missing was a faint "fwoooom" telepathy sound effect.
Although Knox was busy having his little Newtype moment, he actually knew perfectly well why everyone else had frozen.
They were checking each other out.
He couldn't blame them. Even he had to admit, "Hmmm… the girls in their uniforms are definitely a beautiful sight."
The outfit helped—a sleek, black-toned jacket with the Kizen emblem on the chest, a crisp white blouse beneath, a thin tie, and a skirt that sat just above the knees. Half formal, half school uniform, and tailored so perfectly it looked like each of them had a personal designer. It gave all the girls this subtle, mature vibe that was honestly unfair.
Maybe that mutual appreciation was why everyone stayed so tense as they started moving toward the auditorium.
Boys sneaking glances at the girls. Girls sneaking glances at the boys.
Quick eye contact—then identical panicked head-turning.
Whispers drifting around about who was cute, handsome, elegant, cool…
Knox couldn't help chuckling under his breath.
"Ahh, this is youth."
And naturally—naturally—the one catching the most attention from the girls was Knox himself.
Even just walking normally, the way his uniform fit him, the clean lines of his posture, the calm expression… with that combination, he may as well have been glowing. Like a gem buried in the mud—impossible to ignore
Several girls literally froze mid-step as he passed by. Staring at him like they'd been hit with a charm spell.
Well… this was normal. Lorain, Jean, Jane, and Tenerife had all "hands-certified" Knox's looks, after all.
The assistant's sharp voice finally snapped the girls out of their trance.
"Boys and girls, line up in two rows. We'll move to the main hall!"
A ripple of motion returned as everyone scrambled to their places—though a few still stole one last look at Knox before pretending they totally weren't.
They descended the stairs and entered the grand auditorium, where the entrance ceremony was moments away from starting. Many students had already taken their seats. Knox's eyes quickly found Lorain—sitting perfectly composed, yet completely isolated. Left, right, front, behind… all empty.
Yeah. No surprise there. Not many people were brave enough to sit near her.
Knox strolled over and casually leaned in.
"Well, beauty, sitting alone? Mind if I take this spot?"
For a split second, Lorain's brows twitched in pure irritation at that cheesy, borderline disgusting line.
But half a heartbeat later, recognition hit her. That voice. That very familiar voice.
Her head snapped toward him, and her expression melted instantly.
"Hmph. What are you even saying, Knox?"
She smiled—soft, small, but definitely a smile. Meanwhile, inside, she was busy calming down the tiny chaos Knox always stirred up in her.
The people around them collectively froze.
A moment ago, they watched a ridiculously handsome white-haired boy walk up to the academy's iceberg princess and drop a flirt line so bold it bordered on suicidal. Most of them were already preparing to see him get verbally obliterated.
But instead?
She smiled…
She smiled!!
Where the hell did that cold expression from five seconds ago go?!
Knox slid into the seat on Lorain's right, settling in casually like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then he glanced at her—really looked at her—his eyes scanning her from head to toe in that new Kizen uniform without even trying to hide it.
The moment his gaze landed on her like that, Lorain froze as if someone had just shot a pink, heart-shaped arrow straight into her chest. Her ears heated up first, then her cheeks followed.
"W-wa… what are you looking at?" she blurted out, her voice a perfect mix of tsundere panic and embarrassed indignation.
Knox blinked, then offered her a small, honest smile.
"Ah—sorry, sorry. It's just… I already knew you were pretty. But seeing you in the Kizen uniform? It kinda feels like I'm looking at a new you. And, well… it suits you. A lot."
Lorain took that straight to the soul. If earlier she took one arrow, this time it felt like a whole volley hit her at once. She whipped her head away, face pink, mumbling like a broken cassette,
"W-wha… what are you even saying?! Hmph… a little flattery won't get you anything!"
But even as she turned away, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips—betraying everything she tried to hide.
Not far from them—just a few rows over—someone was watching.
A girl with long, ivory hair that shone like moonlight… with an aura that whispered nobility. Elegant. Refined. Her posture was perfect, and her gaze was cool but curious.
She tilted her head slightly as she watched the scene:
Knox sitting beside Lorain, Lorain smiling back at him with that familiar mix of annoyance and affection…
Her lips curved into a subtle fox-like smile.
It was the kind of look that said:
Interesting…
Her eyes reflected amusement, curiosity, and just a hint of something unreadable—like a queen observing pieces on a board. The ivory-haired girl didn't look away. Her gaze stayed fixed—not with hostility, but with a keen interest that made you feel like she was quietly evaluating the entire situation.
Then, from a few rows away—but close enough for Knox to hear if he bothered—two boys started talking.
"Simon! Can you believe this? We're at Kizen! Damn, it doesn't even feel real!" A student, named Rowen blurted out, practically vibrating with excitement.
Rowen, who had wandered off after the changing room, had somehow found Simon again and immediately resumed talking like he'd never stopped.
Simon glanced around the massive auditorium and asked quietly,
"…Are all these students new admits?"
"Of course!" Rowen puffed his chest a little. "There are a thousand first-years alone!"
Simon's eyes widened. That number was far beyond what he'd expected.
"And about three hundred second-years, and even fewer third-years—less than half that, I heard."
"…What?"
"Get it now?" Rowen chuckled, dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. "Only the top thirty percent survive first year. That's how brutal the competition is."
Survival competition… in school?
Simon swallowed. He couldn't wrap his head around how intense things had to be for seven hundred students to wash out.
While he was still processing it, the assistants began guiding the students to their seats.
Rowen scanned the auditorium like a gossip radar on overdrive.
"Serene Aidark! She really enrolled this year. Official successor of the Ivory Tower."
Simon followed his gaze and spotted her—the elegant ivory-haired girl with the cold, composed expression and that fox-like smile from earlier.
"All the big names from all over the world are here," Rowen continued breathlessly. "Darwin Carradin! Jay Sanders… Whoa, what the hell?"
"Where?"
"Look behind you."
Simon turned—and froze.
A male student over three meters tall was sitting calmly, his presence alone overshadowing everyone behind him, who were craning their necks and silently suffering.
"Shatel Maer," Rowen whispered. "Half-giant."
"…He's huge."
"He'll definitely major in physical magic. I mean—look at that build. Who's gonna argue with that?"
Rowen shook his head like the world no longer made sense.
"And then…"
He grinned.
Not just Rowen—practically half the students were sneaking glances in the same direction.
A black-haired, red-eyed girl, sitting with perfect calm.
"No doubt about it," Rowen said with a low whistle. "Top of this year. Lorain Archbold."
Simon's shoulders stiffened—but he kept his expression neutral, only nodding. "I heard she's Special Entry Number Three."
Lorain hadn't originally been on that list. But years of trying to keep up with Knox—academically and in strength—had pushed her past limits she didn't even know she had.
Rowen's gaze slid toward Lorain's side, and his voice dropped to a whisper filled with excitement.
"And—obviously—there's another monster this year. Honestly, in terms of fame, strength, and real combat experience, he might be number one."
Simon followed his line of sight—and his breath hitched for a moment.
Simon blinked slowly.
Knox.
The same Knox he had talked to yesterday, together with Lorain.
Rowen continued, completely missing Simon's stiffening expression.
"Look at the white-haired boy next to Lorain Archbold. That's Knox Aznable."
Rowen kept going, expression glowing like a storyteller about to reveal a legend.
"He's not just famous—he's stupidly famous. A writer whose stories have already shaken the entire continent. But before that? He was a bounty hunter."
Simon stared at Rowen like the guy just told him Knox was a dragon in disguise.
A writer?
A bounty hunter?
That Knox?
Rowen nodded enthusiastically.
"He's got a bunch of nicknames, but the biggest one is the White Devil. And get this—when he was even younger than now, he took down several well-known figures from the Holy Federation. Actual elites."
Simon's jaw dropped a little.
He'd talked to Knox like a normal person. He'd joked with him.
He had no idea he was casually chatting with someone this ridiculous.
Rowen leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"His achievements spread all over the Dark Alliance. Commoners love him, nobles favor him, and since he only targets criminals, even the Holy Federation acknowledges him. That guy's fame is real."
Simon slowly turned his head to look at Knox again.
The boy he'd spoken to yesterday was just… sitting there. Completely unaware that half the auditorium was sneaking glances at him.
Simon exhaled, mind spinning.
…I seriously had no idea he was that kind of person.
"Right? Hard to believe he's our age." Said Rowen.
Simon silently agreed. Because he had seen his skills firsthand and knew better than anyone.
"We will now begin the entrance ceremony! All students, please rise."
A man who looked like the host stepped forward, voice magically amplified as the entire auditorium stirred to attention.
As expected of Kizen, the ceremony flowed with no wasted motion. No dramatic buildup, no grandiose speeches—just clean efficiency.
But the moment the faculty appeared on stage—
The auditorium exploded.
Top-tier necromancers, each one active on the front lines:
Aaron, Bahil, Sillage—names so famous even Simon, who couldn't recite the name of a single duchy, recognized them instantly.
The students went wild. Some screamed. Some waved their arms.
Others were practically vibrating in place.
It wasn't admiration. It was idol worship.
Lorain winced at the sudden spike in volume, brows drawing together like the crowd was an annoying insect buzzing too close.
Knox, on the other hand?
He grinned.
This whole energy—the cheering, the idols stepping onto the stage, the crowd going unhinged— it reminded him of a girl group making their entrance at a live event.
He half-expected glow sticks to appear.
"Next, we'll have the student representative address. All students, please rise."
At last, the final event of the entrance ceremony. Simon also rose from his seat.
According to Rowen, usually one male and one female student—each the top of their year—were chosen to represent the class. But this year, he said, things were a little different.
"Next, the called student, please come to the stage."
The host flipped open a document and announced,
"Special Entry No. 3, Lorain Archbold."
A wave of applause washed through the hall as the black-haired girl rose. Her steps were calm, composed—completely indifferent. The soft smile she'd shown Knox moments ago felt like a fleeting illusion only he had witnessed.
The host continued, "Next, Special Entry No. 2, Serene Aidark."
Another roar of applause erupted as the platinum-blonde girl stood and made her way forward.
"And next—Joint Special Entry No. 1."
The instant those words left his mouth, every whisper cut off. The air tightened, a wave of confusion spreading among the students.
Joint? Since when was there a joint special entry?
"Simon Polentia."
"And…"
"And Knox Aznable."
————————————
Character Voicelines · Knox: About Entrance Ceremony
Knox: What a rowdy ceremony. It reminds me of the old days.
Lorain: ?
Knox: Back in my day, entrance ceremonies were either a speech longer than the entire semester…or one so dull it put everyone to sleep.
Lorain: …Are you sure that wasn't someone casting a sleep curse?
Knox: Honestly, the curse would've been more merciful.