The Imperial Arcane Academy did not ease students into reality.
It threw them in.
Lucien Vale stood in the wide stone courtyard, hands behind his head, watching instructors bark orders while students scrambled into formation.
"Yep," he said cheerfully. "This is definitely a death academy."
Several nearby students stared at him.
One noble scoffed.
"This isn't something to joke about."
Lucien grinned.
"That's exactly why I'm joking."
FIRST CLASS — MANA THEORY
The lecture hall smelled faintly of old parchment and mana residue.
Professor Caldreth, a thin man with glowing blue eyes, drew complex symbols in the air.
"Mana is not energy," he said sharply.
"It is permission."
The class stilled.
"Permission granted by the world to alter itself."
He snapped his fingers.
The rune shattered.
"Affinity determines how you ask."
"Talent determines how well you are heard."
"Physique determines how much your body survives."
Lucien nodded thoughtfully.
Clean explanation, he thought. Better than the novel version.
Elarion sat upright, absorbing every word.
Brom scratched notes aggressively into stone tablets.
Kael looked bored.
SECOND CLASS — BASIC ALCHEMY
Rows of cauldrons bubbled softly.
Instructor Mireya, a red-haired woman with burn scars on her arms, smirked at the class.
"Alchemy isn't about recipes."
She dumped random herbs into a pot.
It exploded.
"It's about control."
Students flinched.
Lucien laughed.
"This is my kind of teacher."
INCIDENT
Lucien reached across the table to grab a stabilizing crystal—
His fingers brushed Elarion's wrist.
A brief, strange sensation passed between them.
Not pain.
Not mana.
Something… deeper.
Bond Detected (Dormant)
Status: Touch Registered
Progress: 1%
Lucien froze.
Oh.
So that's how it starts.
Elarion blinked, pulling his hand back.
"…Did you feel that?"
Lucien smiled innocently.
"Feel what?"
THIRD CLASS — COMBAT FOUNDATION
The training arena roared with noise.
Blunted weapons clashed.
Shields cracked.
Instructor Varos paced like a predator.
"Talent means nothing if you hesitate."
He pointed at two students.
"Fight."
Lucien was shoved into a ring—opposite a muscular noble.
The noble sneered.
"A blank thinks he can—"
Lucien moved.
Not fast.
Not strong.
But confident.
He ducked, stepped in, and tapped the noble's chest with the flat of his blade.
Silence.
Varos raised a brow.
"…Technique?"
Lucien shrugged.
"Watched a lot of stories."
Laughter broke out.
Kael watched closely.
Elarion frowned in thought.
Brom laughed loudest of all.
DORMS — EVENING
The multi-race dormitory buzzed with chaos.
Lucien flopped onto his bed dramatically.
"So," he said, arms spread, "who wants to survive this academy together?"
No one answered.
Then—
Brom sat heavily on a chair.
"I like this human."
Elarion sighed.
"…You're impossible."
Kael leaned against the wall.
"…You're loud."
Lucien beamed.
"Group bonding complete."
SUBTLE FORESHADOWING
As night fell, Lucien lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
For a moment—
The shadows warped.
Just slightly.
Then returned to normal.
System Notice:
Some attributes remain sealed.
Do not pursue prematurely.
Lucien exhaled slowly.
So even curiosity has consequences.
GODDESS OF SIGHT — POV
She watched the academy quietly.
"No domains yet."
"No absolutes yet."
Her gaze lingered on Lucien's laughing face.
"Good."
"Let him grow ignorant a little longer."