Thirty days.
The digital clock in the corner of Ren's vision was a constant reminder of the deadline. In exactly one month, the Blood Moon Rite would turn the academy into a slaughterhouse. Ren sat on the edge of the bed, forcing his breathing to steady. If he tried to change the plot too drastically now, the "Protagonist" might not reach the strength level required to stop the demon. If the hero failed, the entire academy Ren included would be erased.
For now, he had to play the part of the disgraced noble while secretly rebuilding his foundation.
A sharp, resonant chime echoed through the stone walls of the dormitory. It was the first bell of the semester. Ren stood up, smoothed out the wrinkles in his dark Academy blazer, and headed for the door.
As he stepped into the hallway, the atmosphere shifted. The corridors were packed with first-years, their uniforms crisp and their expressions full of unearned confidence. But as Ren passed, the chatter dipped into hushed, jagged whispers.
"Is that him? Cyprian Gaunt?"
"Yeah. My father said his family stripped him of his inheritance last month. He's basically a commoner with a fancy last name now."
"Total dead weight. I heard his mana capacity is so low he couldn't even pass the entrance exam without his family's old influence."
Ren kept his gaze fixed ahead, ignoring the stabs of gossip. In the game, Cyprian would have snapped, causing a scene that further isolated him. Ren simply adjusted his collar and kept walking. Being ignored was a luxury he needed to survive.
The Mana Theory lecture hall was a massive amphitheater carved from enchanted white marble. At the front stood Professor Aris, a man whose presence felt like a heavy weight pressing against the room. He didn't use a chalkboard instead, he manipulated raw mana to form glowing geometric equations in the air.
"Magic is not a gift; it is a calculation of variables," Aris said, his voice cutting through the room. "To cast a basic Flare, you aren't just 'wishing' for fire. You are accelerating the vibration of local ether particles to a friction point of 2,400 K. If your mana circulation is off by even a fraction of a percent, the heat backflows into your own circuits."
Ren took meticulous notes. The professor actually knew his craft this wasn't just flavor text anymore.
'if can calculate the vibration frequency for fire and the cooling properties of water simultaneously, Ren thought, staring at his trembling hands, could I bypass the standard elemental constraints?' In the game, "Steam" or "Mist" magic was high-tier and required rare dual-affinity. But if he treated them as mathematical offsets rather than separate spells, he might find a shortcut to power that his current trash-tier stats didn't allow.
As the class ended and Ren gathered his books, a shadow fell over his desk. He looked up to see a girl with long, silken blue hair that shimmered like moonlight. Her eyes were a matching shade of sapphire, sharp and observant. She wore the silver trim of a high-ranking noble house.
"You're the Gaunt heir, aren't you?" she asked. Her voice was calm, lacking the mockery of the students in the hallway. "I'm Elara from House Vane. I noticed you didn't look confused when the Professor discussed the 12th law of thermodynamics. Most of the 'talented' students were already lost."
"I'm just a first-year trying to pass, Elara," Ren replied shortly, standing up to leave.
"Is that so? You have the eyes of someone who's already failed once. That makes you more interesting than the rest of these children."
Ren didn't give her a hook to continue the conversation. He brushed past her, heading toward the central plaza. He couldn't afford to be "interesting" to the daughter of a Duke.
As he crossed the plaza toward the library, a commotion broke out near the fountain. A group of upperclassmen had surrounded a boy with messy black hair and an old, battered training sword strapped to his waist.
"Look at this trash," one of the bullies laughed, shoving the boy back. "The Academy's standards have really hit rock bottom if they're letting in 'Special Admissions' candidates who can't even afford a proper blade."
A girl with vibrant red hair and a fierce expression stepped between them, her hands glowing with a faint orange light. "Back off, Kael! He earned his spot just like everyone else."
Ren stopped at a distance, watching the scene unfold. The boy with the messy hair didn't look angry; he looked determined, his eyes glowing with the unmistakable spark of a main character.
' So that's him, Ren thought. 'The protagonist.'
Even in a cheap, worn-out uniform, the boy looked like he was stepped out of a high-budget cinematic. He was the hero Ren had controlled for hundreds of hours on a screen. Now, that hero was getting shoved around by side-characters who had no idea they were poking a sleeping dragon.
Ren leaned against a nearby pillar, watching the confrontation. He needed the protagonist to grow, but he also needed to make sure the boy didn't get broken before the Blood Moon.