Days passed, and finally, the morning of the Opening Ceremony arrived.
Arion stood in front of the mirror in his tavern room, adjusting the collar of his new uniform. Black blazer, white trousers. It looked sharp, though he felt a bit ridiculous—a twenty-two-year-old man dressing up for school.
He packed his entire life into a single suitcase. But instead of carrying it, he snapped his fingers.
Magic: Porta.
From the word "Porta," meaning Gate. It was a magic that connected a person to a dimensional storage space. The capacity depended on the user's magic essence (ME).
Consumption: Opening a Porta cost 20% of your current ME (Minimum 50 ME required). Capacity: 5kg + (Total ME / Age x 0.5).
Basically, the older you got, the less you could carry. Another reminder that this world favored the young.
Arion opened the gate. Whoosh. It drained 20% of his current magic instantly. He shoved the suitcase inside and closed the gate.
Downstairs, the mood was heavy. Baric and Mary stood by the door.
"You actually did it, Arion," Baric sniffled, wiping his eyes with a dirty rag. "For six years… you were just a drunk on a stool. And now…"
"Don't cry, old man," Arion grinned. "I'll be back to empty your pockets again soon."
They bid farewell, and Arion walked out into the sunlight, heading toward the Academy.
The Academy entrance was a chaotic sea of luxury carriages. Servants hauled mountains of luggage for the noble children. Arion walked in empty-handed, whistling a tune.
He went straight to the dorms, found his room (a single, thankfully), and used Porta again. Whoosh. Another chunk of magic gone. Since Porta used a percentage of current magic, he could open it multiple times, but the drain was exhausting. He kicked his suitcase into the corner and headed for the main event.
The Grand Auditorium was massive. Arion arrived early. In fact, he was the first one there. He found a seat in the back row, hoping to relax.
While he was minding his own business, someone sat down beside him. Arion ignored them, assuming it was just another new student.
The person spoke. "I saw your magic at the test… surely, it was amazing."
Arion didn't look up. "Thanks for the compliment."
Suddenly, another person sat on his other side. "I saw your magic too," the second person said. "Truly unique."
"Thanks," Arion muttered, still looking at the ceiling.
Then, two more people sat directly behind and in front of him, boxing him in. They all repeated the same line. Amazing magic. Incredible skill.
Arion felt a shiver. This wasn't right. He lifted his head and looked around.
These weren't students. They weren't wearing uniforms. There were two men and two women. They looked to be in their forties, but the women possessed a beauty that defied their age.
The woman sitting to his right leaned in close. "So your name is Arion… surely… you are a unique one."
A triangular rune suddenly glowed in front of her left eye. She scanned him. Her eyes went wide.
"DIBS! HE IS MINE!"
She lunged at him, wrapping him in a suffocating hug, pulling his face into her chest.
"Mmph! MMPHH!" Arion flailed.
"Let go of him!" the other three shouted, trying to pry her off. "What did you see? Tell us!"
"I saw him first! He's my student!"
Arion finally pushed his head free, gasping for air. "CAN ONE OF YOU TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!"
"They are just trying to convince you," a calm voice said from the aisle. "They want you to choose one of them as your master."
Arion turned his head. Standing there was an elderly man radiating power, flanked by a stunningly beautiful secretary.
"Who is this old man?" Arion asked.
"He is the Principal of the Academy," one of the weird teachers whispered.
"Hooooooo," Arion nodded. "Well, I don't know about that."
The Principal walked toward the row of seats. "In the entrance ceremony, all the masters and teachers examine the students. After the examination, the teachers volunteer to teach specific students. Then, the student chooses."
Arion rubbed his neck. "So you're all sitting here for that? I thought we just learned from everyone. I didn't know the teachers hunted the students."
"Students are sorted," the Principal explained. "Every student will have a mentor. There will be no student left behind."
Suddenly, the Principal looked at the back door. "All the students will be here in seconds," he said sharply. "Leave him alone."
Poof. Like dust in the wind, the four strange teachers vanished. The Principal and his secretary disappeared with them.
Arion blinked. "Weirdos."
A few seconds later, the doors burst open. Hundreds of students flooded into the auditorium. Arion felt a familiar presence. He looked to his side.
It was the girl from the magic test. The angry one. She sat down right next to him, staring straight ahead.
"Are you the girl from the magic test?" Arion asked. "We didn't introduce ourselves back then. How about we do it now?"
She didn't look at him. "No, thank you."
"Okay then," Arion shrugged. "Suit yourself."
The Ceremony
The seats filled up. The noise level rose. A few minutes later, the ceremony began. The Principal took the stage and gave a long, boring speech about prestige, honor, and the "will of the academy."
After the speech, eight teachers walked onto the podium. They stood in a line, looking dignified. Well, seven of them did. One teacher at the far end looked like she was about to collapse. Her expression was frowning and lazy as hell.
Who is that? Arion wondered.
The Principal's secretary stepped forward and began calling names, sorted by rank.
"Rank 1: Sebastian Ambrose."
Arion recognized him—the blonde boy who cast the ice spell. Sebastian walked to the podium. Immediately, almost all the teachers raised their hands, showing small magical displays to woo him. Sebastian interviewed them, nodded, and made his choice.
It was a long, bureaucratic process. Arion yawned. His eyelids grew heavy. He didn't care about this. He closed his eyes.
Two Hours Later
"You! Wake up! It's almost your turn…"
Someone was shaking him. Arion slowly peeled his eyes open. "Huh? My turn?"
"Yes," the girl beside him hissed.
"And who are you again?"
"No, thank you," she replied automatically.
Arion stretched his body, his joints popping. He looked around the auditorium. It was empty.
"Where did everyone go?" Arion asked.
"If you have your turn already, you can leave the room to prepare for tomorrow," the girl explained.
"WAIT! What do you mean prepare for tomorrow?"
"Classes start tomorrow. Today is just the selection."
"What's the point then?" Arion groaned. "What a useless day."
"Arion!" The secretary's voice echoed from the stage.
His name was called. Since he was the last place in the ranking, he was the very last student. Only two other students remained in the seats to watch him: the nameless girl beside him, and the first rank, Sebastian Ambrose.
Arion walked down to the podium. He stood in front of the teachers. He didn't know what to do. He just stood there. Silence stretched out.
"Arion," the secretary asked, breaking the awkward silence. "Is there anything you need from your teacher?"
Arion blinked. "What? I don't quite understand what is going on here."
"Did you pay attention to the students before you?"
"Huhhhhh… I just fell asleep. So… I don't know what to do."
The teacher who had hugged him earlier covered her mouth and started to laugh. The secretary sighed. "You can't do that, Arion. You need to pay attention."
"Yeah, I know. So what do I do? Am I asking them? Or are they asking me?"
"First… you tell them what you need and what you are capable of."
"What do I need?" Arion scratched his head. "Yawnnnn… Apologies. What I need is just one thing. Freedom. So, what do all of you think about the freedom of learning?"
One by one, the teachers gave passionate speeches about their teaching philosophies. "Discipline is freedom!" one said. "Knowledge is the key to liberation!" said another.
All of their answers sounded like extra homework. Arion wasn't satisfied.
"Well, thanks for the answers," Arion cut them off. "So I want to ask one thing… from all of you, which teacher got the least number of students today?"
The Secretary checked her list. "I believe Teacher Sophia Irene, the person on the left corner."
Arion looked. It was the woman with the frown and the lazy expression.
"How many did she get?" Arion asked.
"I believe… none."
"What happens if she doesn't get any students?"
"She will become an assistant to the others."
"Basically, she will become a servant to the others?" Arion smirked. "Great. I've made up my mind. I will choose her as my teacher."
The four teachers who tried to recruit him earlier looked shocked. The Secretary frowned. "Why do you choose her?"
"Well," Arion reasoned, "she doesn't have any other students. If I am her only student, I get my freedom to learn privately. No interruptions. No classmates. Just me."
He paused. "Is there a problem? Does the Academy think she is not suitable to become a teacher? Or is there a difference between the teachers?"
Out of the blue, the Principal appeared beside Arion. "No," the Principal said, a twinkle in his eye. "There is no problem for you to choose her. But are you sure?"
"Yeah, I am sure," Arion nodded. "Can I go now? Because I heard classes start tomorrow, so it's useless if I am still here."
"You may excuse yourself," the Principal said.
Arion turned and walked down from the podium. As he left, he glanced at the seats. The girl and Sebastian were still there, watching him with unreadable expressions.