I was assigned to Building C.
The moment I saw the letter printed on the silver paper, I felt a strange sense of calm.
Building C wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst either. It was the place where most ordinary recruits ended up—the ones without flashy talent or noble backing. The kind that didn't draw attention.
Perfect.
I folded the paper carefully and started walking toward my assigned quarters.
The fortress was massive—far larger than it appeared from the outside. Long stone corridors branched endlessly, staircases spiraled upward and downward, and banners bearing the Monarch's emblem hung from every archway.
Soldiers and recruits filled the halls, dragging trunks, laughing loudly, shouting names, or calling out to family members.
"Don't forget to write to us!"
"Train hard!"
"Make us proud!"
Some dormitory doors were wide open. Inside, I glimpsed families embracing their sons, mothers adjusting armor straps, fathers giving last-minute advice with stern expressions.
Younger siblings peeked around corners, eyes full of awe.
(So some of them came with their families…)
I kept walking.
My footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor as I searched for my dormitory.
I stopped and unfolded the paper again.
BUILDING C
BLOCK 2
D–9
Block 2 was deeper inside the building.
As I passed through the hallway, the atmosphere subtly changed.
The noise faded little by little, replaced by quieter conversations and the steady rhythm of footsteps.
The walls here were plainer—less decoration, fewer runes. No extravagant lighting crystals, only simple enchanted lamps that emitted a soft white glow.
Most of the recruits here looked like commoners.
No extravagant armor.
No overly refined robes.
Just determined faces and tired eyes.
Some were already sweating, hauling their belongings into their rooms. Others sat on their trunks, talking about the tests, arguing about ranks, or boasting loudly about how they would rise quickly.
"C-rank isn't bad," one said.
"Yeah, better than being sent home," another replied.
"I'll reach B within a year. Just wait."
I passed them silently.
Eventually, I found it.
D–9.
A simple wooden door reinforced with metal edges.
I placed my hand on the handle and pushed it open.
The room was… modest.
Two beds stood against opposite walls, neatly made with gray blankets. A single desk sat between them, accompanied by two wooden chairs. A small wardrobe occupied the corner, and above it, a narrow window allowed sunlight to spill into the room.
One bed was empty.
No luggage.
No sign of another person.
I stepped inside with my small bag slung over my shoulder.
"Who might be my roommate?" I muttered quietly.
I waited a moment, listening.
Nothing.
I placed my bag down near the empty bed.
"Guess I'm the only one in here today."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
The quiet was… nice.
I walked toward the window and pulled the curtains open.
Sunlight flooded the room instantly, illuminating floating dust particles. Outside, I could see part of the training grounds in the distance.
Soldiers moved like ants from this height, formations shifting, weapons flashing under the sun.
(This fortress really never sleeps…)
I sat down on my bed and opened my bag.
Inside, among a few basic necessities, was a small, worn notebook.
I took it out carefully.
This notebook was more valuable than gold.
I sat at the desk, opened it, and dipped the pen into ink.
Then I began to write.
Notes known future events according to the Novel that i have read.
I wrote slowly, carefully choosing my words.
Key figures.
Upcoming inspections.
Hidden power struggles.
The Monarch's plans.
The betrayals that would happen years later.
The names of those who would rise—and those who would fall.
Some details were hazy. Others painfully clear.
Every sentence I wrote made my chest feel tighter.
(These events… they haven't happened yet.)
(But they will.)
(Unless I change them.)
Time slipped away.
I barely noticed as sunlight shifted across the room, shadows stretching along the floor. My hand was cramped, but I kept writing.
Two hours passed.
I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes.
"That's all I can remember for now…"
Some events were still missing. Some details blurred. But this was enough to give me an advantage.
I closed the notebook and hid it beneath the mattress.
Just then—
POOOOOOO!
A deep, thunderous horn blast echoed through the building.
The sound vibrated through the walls, through my bones.
"What is this sound?" I muttered, standing up quickly.
Another horn followed, shorter this time.
Voices rose in the hallway.
Boots stomped.
Orders were shouted.
Before I could step outside, there was a loud knock on the door.
No.
Not a knock.
A bang.
The door swung open forcefully.
Three people entered.
The one in front wore a captain's badge on his chest. His posture was straight, expression stern, eyes sharp like a hawk's.
Behind him were two vice counselors, both holding thick ledgers and enchanted pens.
The captain looked around the room once, his gaze cold and assessing.
"Paper," he said curtly.
I handed over my badge without hesitation.
He scanned it quickly.
NAME: Tatsuki
AGE: 19
RANK: C-Level
USER: Combat Fighter
His eyes lingered on the last line for a brief moment.
Then he handed it to one of the vice counselors.
The vice counselor scribbled something into his book, the pen glowing faintly as it recorded the information.
The captain looked back at me.
"Listen carefully," he said. "This fortress has rules."
"Respect your seniors."
"Follow orders."
"And don't try to be smart."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"People who think they're special don't last long here."
I met his gaze calmly.
"I understand."
He studied me for another second, as if trying to read something hidden beneath my expression.
Then he turned around.
The vice counselors followed.
BOOM.
The door slammed shut behind them, shaking the walls.
I stared at the door for a moment.
"…What's with that attitude?" I muttered.
I sat back down on the bed and let out a slow breath.
(So inspections already start on day one…)
(They're checking everyone.)
(Making sure no one steps out of line.)
I lay back and stared at the ceiling.
(Tatsuki…)
(A combat fighter with middle-class strength.)
(That's what they think.)
A faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
(Good.)
(Let them underestimate me.)
"I don't remember this character, but my strength seems to be class S rank magic user".