The results board went up at dawn.
King hadn't actually slept again—he'd spent another night lying in bed, listening to the city breathe. Around five in the morning, he'd given up and gone for a walk.
That's how he found himself standing in front of the academy's main gate when workers arrived to post the acceptance list.
"You're early," one of them said, hammer in hand.
"I was awake," King replied.
The worker shrugged and nailed the massive board to the gate. Parchment scrolls covered it, each one listing names in neat script.
King waited until they finished and left before approaching.
The list was organized by rank. S-Rank candidates at the top, F-Rank at the bottom. King's eyes traveled down the parchment, reading names he didn't recognize.
Then, at the very bottom:
F-RANK ACCEPTANCES:
· King Von Deluxh – Special Observation Status
· Marcus Iron – Provisional Acceptance
Two names. That was all.
Marcus made it, King thought, feeling something warm in his chest. He tried again and succeeded.
"KING! "
He turned. Marcus was sprinting down the street, still in his night clothes, hair wild. Behind him, Nero jogged casually, fully dressed and eating an apple.
"Did we—" Marcus skidded to a halt in front of the board, chest heaving. His eyes scanned frantically, then locked onto his name. "I made it. I actually made it."
His voice cracked on the last word.
"Congratulations," King said.
Marcus stared at the board like it might disappear. "Provisional acceptance. That means I'm on probation. One mistake and I'm out." He turned to King, grinning despite the tears in his eyes. "But I'm in. I'm actually in."
"Told you," Nero said, appearing beside them. He scanned the board. "Let's see... Nero Black, C-Rank, standard acceptance. Not bad." He bit into his apple. "Though I might've ranked higher if I hadn't suggested the plague thing."
"You got C-Rank?" Marcus said. "That's amazing!"
"Shadow manipulation has its perks." Nero pointed at the board. "Dante's up there too. B-Rank. Combat Enhancement talent finally got officially recognized."
King found Dante's name in the B-Rank section. Good. He'd wanted to spar with Dante more.
"And you," Marcus said, reading King's entry again. "Special Observation Status. What does that mean?"
"It means they don't know what to do with me," King said.
"That tracks," Nero agreed.
More candidates arrived as the sun rose. The crowd grew quickly—some cheering, others crying, a few just standing in shocked silence.
King watched them all. Each reaction told a story. The noble who'd expected to pass and did, barely reacting. The commoner who'd hoped and succeeded, collapsing with relief. The candidate who'd been certain of failure, reading their name over and over to make sure it was real.
They all wanted this so badly, King thought. This single moment determines their entire future.
"Candidate 847."
King turned. Instructor Gray stood behind him, arms crossed.
"Director wants to see you. Now."
Marcus and Nero exchanged worried glances.
"Is he in trouble?" Marcus asked.
"That remains to be seen." Gray's expression was unreadable. "Come with me, Candidate. Your friends can wait here."
---
King followed her through the academy gates. The main building was even more impressive up close—marble columns carved with protective runes, floating crystals providing light, architecture that seemed to defy gravity.
Magic built this, King realized. They shaped reality to create something beautiful.
Gray led him through corridors filled with early-morning staff. Some glanced at King curiously. Others ignored him entirely.
They stopped at a large wooden door. Gray knocked twice.
"Enter," a voice called from inside.
The Director's office was smaller than King expected. Books covered every wall, stacked on shelves and piled on the floor. A desk sat buried under papers and maps. Behind it, a woman looked up.
She was younger than King expected—maybe forty, with dark hair streaked with silver and eyes that looked tired but kind.
"Candidate King Von Deluxh," Gray announced.
"Thank you, Helena. You can stay." The Director gestured at two chairs. "Please, sit."
King sat. Gray remained standing by the door.
The Director studied him for a long moment, fingers steepled under her chin. "I'm Director Helen Wise. I've been running this academy for eight years. In that time, I've seen many unusual candidates. But you might be the most unusual yet."
"Is that good or bad?" King asked.
"Haven't decided." She pulled out a file—his file, he realized. "Three destroyed assessment crystals. F-Rank classification due to equipment malfunction. Combat trial where you single-handedly stopped an enhanced golem. Strategy evaluation where your answers bordered on reality-defying." She looked up. "And yesterday, you defeated an A-Rank Unique Talent holder without visible effort."
"He was very skilled," King said. "I learned a lot watching him."
"You learned from someone you defeated in seconds?"
"Yes. His chain techniques were elegant. I'd never seen anything like that."
Director Wise exchanged a glance with Gray.
"Most students," the Director said carefully, "don't learn from opponents they defeat. They usually assume they're superior and move on."
"That seems wasteful," King said. "Everyone knows something I don't."
"An interesting perspective." The Director leaned back. "Tell me honestly—what is your goal here?"
To understand what it means to be human, King thought. But that would prompt more questions.
"I want to learn," King said. "Not just fighting or magic. Everything. How people think, why they make choices, what drives them to keep trying when things are hard."
"That's... not a typical answer," the Director said.
"I'm not a typical student."
"Clearly." She closed his file. "Here's the situation. Your assessment results are unprecedented. F-Rank classification with power output that exceeds our measurement capabilities. I could reject you on grounds of anomalous readings."
King's chest tightened slightly. Was that disappointment? Interesting.
"However," Director Wise continued, "you passed every trial. Technically. And we have a responsibility to educate all who qualify, regardless of how confusing their results are." She smiled slightly. "So you're accepted. With conditions."
"What conditions?" King asked.
"Monthly evaluation by Instructor Gray. She'll monitor your progress and report any concerns. You'll also meet with me personally every semester." The Director's expression turned serious. "And if you pose a danger to other students, you'll be expelled immediately. Understood?"
"Yes," King said.
"Good." She stood, extending her hand. "Welcome to Magic Knights Academy of Avalon, King Von Deluxh. Try not to break anything expensive."
King shook her hand. Her grip was firm, confident. "I'll try."
---
Gray escorted him back to the entrance. As they walked, she spoke without looking at him.
"The Director is kind. I'm not." She stopped at the main entrance. "I don't know what you are. Enhanced? Cursed? Some kind of magical anomaly? But I will find out. And if you're dangerous, I'll remove you myself."
"How would you do that?" King asked, genuinely curious.
Gray's hand moved to the sword at her hip—a blade that hummed with contained power. "I've killed things stronger than you think you are."
She's killed things, King thought. Ended lives. Carries that weight and still moves forward. That's strength too.
"I'm not dangerous," King said. "Not to students, anyway."
"We'll see." Gray opened the door. "Orientation is tomorrow. Don't be late."
King stepped outside. Marcus and Nero were waiting right where he'd left them, both looking anxious.
"Well?" Marcus asked immediately. "What happened? Are you expelled? Arrested? Secret government experiment?"
"Accepted," King said. "With monitoring."
"Monitoring?" Nero repeated.
"Instructor Gray will watch me. Make sure I'm not dangerous."
"Are you dangerous?" Marcus asked.
King considered. "To enemies, probably. To friends, no."
"That's not reassuring," Marcus said.
"It's a little reassuring," Nero countered. "I'd rather be his friend than his enemy, at least."
A commotion erupted near the results board. King looked over. A candidate was being dragged away by academy guards, screaming about unfair results.
"That happens every year," Nero said quietly. "People who can't accept rejection. Some get violent."
King watched the candidate disappear into a security building, still screaming. They wanted this so badly that losing it breaks something inside.
"Come on," Marcus said. "Let's celebrate. We're academy students now! Actual students!"
"Where should we celebrate?" King asked.
"Nero knows a place," Marcus said.
"I always know a place," Nero agreed.
---
The place turned out to be a tavern near the docks. Rough clientele, questionable hygiene, and prices that wouldn't bankrupt broke students.
They claimed a corner table. Nero ordered drinks. King tried something called "ale" and immediately regretted it.
"This tastes like liquid bread that went bad," King said.
Marcus laughed. "First time drinking?"
"First time with ale. I had water yesterday. That was better."
"You've never had ale?" Nero stared. "Where are you from, a monastery?"
"Something like that," King said, setting the mug aside.
"HEY! White-hair!"
King looked up. Yuki Winters was walking toward their table, green eyes sharp.
"Oh no," Marcus muttered.
Yuki pulled up a chair without asking. "Saw your name on the list. Special Observation Status. That's rare."
"Is it?" King asked.
"Only given to candidates who are either extremely dangerous or extremely valuable. Usually both." She leaned forward. "Which are you?"
"Neither?"
"Wrong answer." Yuki flagged down the bartender, ordered something, then turned back to King. "I did research on you last night. Know what I found?"
"Nothing?" King guessed.
"Exactly nothing. No birth records, no family registry, no history anywhere in Avalon. It's like you appeared three days ago out of thin air."
Because I did, King thought.
"I'm private," King said aloud.
"Private and mysterious are different things." Her drink arrived—something clear that smelled sharp. She downed it in one gulp. "But fine. Keep your secrets. I'll figure them out eventually."
"Why does everyone want to figure me out?" King asked, genuinely confused.
"Because you don't make sense!" Yuki said. "F-Rank who defeats A-Ranks. Breaks assessment crystals. Catches fire magic with your hand. You're a walking contradiction."
"Maybe the rankings are wrong," King suggested.
"The rankings have worked for fifty years. They're not wrong." Yuki signaled for another drink. "You are."
"That's rude," Marcus said.
"It's accurate," Yuki countered. "Don't worry, Iron. I researched you too. Failed last year, came back, got provisional acceptance. That's respectable."
Marcus blinked. "You think so?"
"Most people give up after failing once. You didn't. That takes guts." She looked at Nero. "And you, Black. Shadow manipulation, C-Rank. Disgraced merchant family trying to rebuild your name."
Nero's grin didn't falter. "You're thorough."
"I like knowing who I'm dealing with." Yuki's second drink arrived. She sipped it this time, slower. "So here's what I think. The four of you—five if we count Dante—you're going to be interesting to watch. Outcasts, mysteries, and people with something to prove."
"Are you including yourself in that count?" Nero asked.
"Obviously. Exiled noble trying to clear her family name." Yuki raised her glass. "To the outcasts, then. May we survive our first year."
King didn't have a drink to raise. Nero pushed his ale toward him.
"To the outcasts," Marcus repeated, raising his mug.
They drank. King took another sip of ale and confirmed it still tasted terrible.
"So," Yuki said, setting down her glass. "Orientation tomorrow. We'll be assigned dorms, classes, training schedules. First real day of academy life."
"What's it like?" Marcus asked. "The academy, I mean. For real."
"Brutal," Yuki said simply. "Competitive. Everyone trying to climb ranks, prove themselves, secure their future. Friendships are tactical alliances. Trust is currency. And if you're weak, you get crushed."
"Sounds fun," Nero said sarcastically.
"It's not. But it's necessary." Yuki looked at King. "Especially for people like us. We don't have safety nets. No family backing, no inherited wealth. Just ourselves."
They're all fighting, King realized. Every day, fighting to prove they deserve to exist in this space. What a heavy way to live.
"Then we'll fight together," King said.
Everyone looked at him.
"Together?" Yuki repeated.
"We're all outcasts, right? So let's be outcasts together. Help each other survive." King looked at each of them. "That seems more effective than fighting alone."
Marcus smiled. "I like that idea."
"It's naive," Yuki said. But she was almost smiling too. "But I like it anyway."
"To being naive together," Nero said, raising his mug again.
They drank again. The tavern buzzed around them, full of other new students celebrating or drowning their sorrows.
King watched his new friends talk, laugh, argue about what classes they'd take. The warmth in his chest grew stronger.
This is belonging, King thought. Being part of something. Mattering to people who matter to you.
He'd existed for eons. Seen countless worlds. Wielded power beyond comprehension.
But sitting in this rough tavern with four people who'd chosen to sit with him—this was the best moment he'd ever experienced.
"King," Marcus said. "You okay? You're smiling weird."
"Am I?" King touched his face. His cheeks felt strange. "What's a normal smile?"
"Not that," Nero said. "That's like someone told you the meaning of happiness and you're trying it out for the first time."
"Maybe I am," King said.
Yuki studied him with those sharp eyes. "You really are the strangest person I've ever met."
"Thank you," King said.
"That wasn't a compliment!"
"It sounded like one."
They stayed until afternoon, talking and planning and dreaming about their academy future. When they finally left, the sun was beginning its descent toward evening.
Tomorrow would bring orientation. New challenges. New mysteries.
But tonight, King walked through Devas with friends beside him, and the weight of eternity felt a little lighter.