Anna left the residence with her mother's hand wrapped around her, small fingers locked in place like a contract.
The road outside their home was still dirt, uneven, and dusty, and every step kicked up powder that tried to cling to her shoes. Clarissa walked calmly, used to it, while Anna kept glancing around like a tigress scouting a new territory.
She wasn't nervous.
She was alert.
Kamenka Village wasn't big, but it had layers. The outskirts smelled like soil and livestock, while the center carried the scent of trade, polished wood, and fresh bread.
And once they reached the village's main street, the ground changed beneath her feet.
Cobblestones.
A clean, hard path that didn't turn into mud every time the sky cried.
To Anna, it felt like crossing an invisible border. Like stepping from poverty into the illusion of civilization.
Ahead, the central square opened up.
Her favorite place.
A triangle-shaped plaza where everything important happened.
The statue of the village founder, Kamenka, stood tall in the center, sword raised as if she were still defending the land from enemies that no longer existed. Around it bloomed a garden carefully maintained, with trimmed bushes and flowers that made the place look almost… safe.
Children ran across the open space, chasing each other in circles.
Adults stood in small groups, gossiping like politicians without crowns.
Carriages rolled past with creaking wheels, and occasionally a strange beast, half-horse and half-something-else, would stomp along with a bored expression.
Anna watched it all, eyes sharp.
Today, the square was louder than usual.
More footsteps.
More voices.
More parents holding children's hands too tightly.
She didn't need anyone to explain why.
It was academy season.
*
At the far end of the square stood the Kamenka Academy.
Three stories tall, dark stone walls, narrow windows, and pointed rooftops that reminded Anna of gothic buildings from Earth.
Except this wasn't a church.
It was a machine.
A place meant to grind village children into "useful" adults.
Anna liked that.
Grinding made people predictable.
And predictable people were easier to control.
Around the academy gates, groups gathered in clumps.
Kids her age clutched bags bigger than their bodies.
Mothers wiped imaginary dust off their children's clothes.
Fathers stood stiff, arms crossed, pretending this wasn't a big moment.
Older students walked in alone, confident, laughing, like they already owned the place.
Anna's gaze followed them.
Confidence is always a weapon.
The Kamenka Academy accepted children up to age ten. After that, life branched into two paths.
Either you found a master and learned a trade, usually the same work your parents had done.
Or, if your family had money and ambition, you went to a royal academy between ten and thirteen.
But royal academies weren't just schools.
They were gates.
And behind those gates was the Seidel Magic College.
The dream factory.
The ladder to power.
A place where talented students could rise, gain status, and even earn nobility if they shone bright enough.
Anna knew about it. She had read enough to understand what it represented. It was a kingdom's way of collecting monsters before those monsters grew wild.
But she didn't care much. Her father wouldn't waste money sending her to a royal academy.
And Anna didn't have the illusion that her mana would be special.
No matter what she wanted, reality still existed.
So instead of chasing a dream, she chose something more useful.
Connections.
Knowledge.
Influence.
Those could be built anywhere.
Even in a small academy in a small village.
*
Anna squeezed her mother's hand tighter as they approached the entrance.
"Come on," she urged, tugging her forward. "We'll be late."
Clarissa chuckled softly, letting her pull her along. "You're acting like a little soldier marching to war."
Anna didn't answer.
Because in her mind, this was war.
Not the kind with swords.
The kind with social hierarchies, alliances, and invisible knives.
At the entrance, a man wearing an academy uniform stepped in front of them. His hair was neat, her posture stiff, and his eyes carried the bored authority of someone who enjoyed saying "no" for a living.
"Name of the student and family?" he asked.
Clarissa smiled politely. "Anna. This is her first day."
The man glanced down at Anna, then at a list in his hands.
"Anna …" she repeated, then nodded. "Class One."
He stepped aside and pointed toward the hallway. "The teacher will be fifteen minutes late today due to registration. Starting tomorrow, lessons begin at nine in the morning."
Clarissa leaned down and kissed Anna's forehead. "Behave," she whispered.
Anna nodded once.
Then she ran.
Not because she was excited like a child.
Because she was hungry like a woman.
She dashed up the front steps, backpack straps clenched in both hands, feet thumping against stone.
Behind her, Clarissa watched with a strange mix of pride and worry.
Her little girl was growing too fast.
*
Inside, the academy smelled like ink, dust, and old wood.
The corridors were narrow, the floors creaked, and every sound echoed like the building was listening.
It wasn't huge. Five classrooms, a library, an administration wing, a cafeteria, and a few training spaces.
Still, it felt like a fortress to Anna.
A fortress filled with children.
She walked past a doorway where wooden practice swords hung on the wall.
Her eyes lingered.
Physical training mattered here.
Even in a world ruled by magic, most people weren't powerful magicians.
Most were weak.
And in low-level fights, a blade and strong arms could decide everything.
Anna's lips curved faintly.
Good. They teach weapons.
That means I can sharpen myself early.
She followed the signs until she found it.
Class One.
Voices leaked through the doorway. Excited, messy, chaotic.
Anna stepped in.
Half a dozen children were already inside, seated at wooden desks that looked like they'd been carved by someone who hated comfort.
Boys and girls are nearly equal in number.
Some whispered nervously.
Some stared around with wide eyes.
Some pretended they weren't afraid.
Anna scanned them all instinctively, like she was memorizing faces in a rival crew.
Then a familiar voice hit her ears. "Anna! You really came!"
A blond-haired girl rushed toward her, grinning as if she had just found treasure.
Regina.
The younger sister of her sister's best friend.
Anna had met her a few times before. Loud kid. Confident kid. The kind who'd talk to a wall if it looked lonely.
Anna nodded at her.
"Regina," she said calmly. "Looks like we're classmates now."
Regina's grin widened. "Finally! My sister keeps bullying me and saying I'll cry during martial training."
Anna snorted. "You probably will."
Regina's face twisted. "Hey!"
But she wasn't offended. She laughed instead, as if being insulted was part of friendship.
Anna glanced at the wooden swords displayed in the room's corner.
"I'm looking forward to martial class too," Anna admitted. "Want to partner up?"
Regina's eyes lit up immediately. "Deal!"
As they spoke, a cute boy entered the room. Dark-haired, quiet, carrying his bag like it was heavier than it should've been. He chose a seat near them and sat down without saying a word.
Regina leaned over, finding him cute.
"Hey," Regina said cheerfully. "What's your name?"
The boy hesitated.
"Adam," he answered with a faint blush.
Regina smiled like she'd just recruited a new knight. "Nice. I'm Regina. That's Anna. You can sit with us."
Adam blinked, surprised, then nodded slowly.
Anna watched the exchange, expression unreadable.
Children made friends quickly. They don't see whether it is a boy or a girl either. And neither would the adults mind until these children become teenagers...
But in Anna's mind, there is no such thing as friendship.
It was merely setting up a seed for a foundation for the future. And of course, she wouldn't mind whether it is a girl or a boy that she could recruit in the future.
*
The classroom noise grew louder as more students arrived.
Chairs scraped.
Books dropped.
Someone laughed too loudly.
Someone else argued over a seat.
Anna sat down, posture straight, eyes forward.
She didn't act like a child on her first day.
She acted like someone attending a meeting.
Then the room suddenly froze as a sharp voice cut through the chatter like a blade through cloth.
"Enough."
The doorway was filled with a figure.
A teacher.
Not old. Not young. Somewhere in between.
His clothes were simple but clean, and his eyes carried a quiet authority that didn't need shouting to be obeyed.
The kind of authority Anna recognized instantly.
The kind that came from someone who had hit others… and had been hit back.
The man stepped into the room.
Every child went silent.
And Anna's heartbeat slowed.
Because she could feel it.
This wasn't just some village instructor.
This was the first adult in this world who felt… dangerous.
The teacher's gaze swept across the class.
Then he spoke calmly, "Welcome to the Kamenka Academy."
But the calm carried weight.
"Sit straight. Keep quiet. And listen carefully."
Anna's eyes narrowed slightly.
Good.
The real game starts now.