"Congratulations to all the new students on your admission!"
The vice principal's voice echoed throughout the auditorium—clear and harmonious.
She was an imposing woman with an elegant bearing and eyes that radiated an incomparable charisma, capable of captivating anyone with just a glance. Her jet-black hair was tied into a flawless bun, and combined with her sleek black office-style uniform, she looked extraordinarily beautiful—impossible to ignore.
"Our proud Arcane Academy welcomes you all," she continued slowly, her voice melodious and refined.
"Here you will find the most advanced knowledge and the best possible environment to develop your talents. We hope you make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
Kain listened silently, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the stage but utterly devoid of emotion. Beside him, Aiden wore a similar expression: watching, nodding from time to time, but clearly untouched by the grandeur of the ceremony.
Aiden, ever perceptive, could tell at once that the vice principal's words were hollow—phrases repeated year after year. Her enthusiasm was professional and polished, but lifeless.
"I hope you all strive hard, hone the talents that have been so carefully selected, and live up to the expectations of our nation," she went on, her voice ringing like a clear bell—yet empty.
Kain frowned slightly.
"It's not a bad speech," he thought. "It's just… soulless. Every word feels scripted."
Aiden tilted his head and muttered under his breath,
"Yeah… feels more like a ritual than something truly inspiring."
"I hope you make the most of your precious school life and live it to the fullest," the vice principal finally concluded.
The quiet murmur of the hall turned into spontaneous applause. One by one, everyone began to clap, as if enchanted by her presence. Each clap echoed with admiration and respect.
The vice principal remained silent, observing the scene with a mix of pride and complicity. She allowed the applause to continue, letting the emotion fill every corner of the hall.
At last, she raised her hand with a simple gesture, and the applause ceased immediately.
Lowering her hand, she added,
"With this, the entrance ceremony of Arcane Academy is officially concluded. After this, each class will gather in its designated classroom. Class A, please proceed first."
Class A.
The pinnacle of the Academy's meritocracy. The most talented—the ones with illustrious bloodlines or exceptional abilities—were grouped in this class.
Each cadet walked with the confidence of someone born destined for greatness. Some hailed from renowned families whose lineages traced back to powerful mages, knights, or even legendary heroes.
Others had simply demonstrated such extraordinary natural talent that they stood out even among the elite, earning a place in the prestigious Class A.
"Now, Class B," the voice over the microphone announced, and a stream of equally capable students—though slightly below Class A—moved toward their classrooms. Then came Class C, and so on, until finally:
"Now, Class E."
Kain stood up.
Class E—the worst of them all.
The group advanced slowly, with a blend of pride and resignation. They were known as the Academy's misfits. Talented, yes—but in a place where everyone was talented, their abilities seemed average, even below the standard. Some were considered geniuses elsewhere, but here… they simply didn't stand out.
Aiden walked beside him, adjusting his backpack while casting quick glances at their classmates.
"I didn't expect the gap between Class A and Class E to be that big," he said, looking around. The gazes of the people surrounding them were cold—so different from the warmth they had shown toward the other classes.
Kain tilted his head slightly, studying the environment.
The students from the upper classes moved with confidence, greeting acquaintances with a natural ease. In contrast, the students of Class E advanced cautiously, awed by the grandeur of the school: massive training facilities, workshops for advanced magic, specialized shops, and laboratories lit by glowing runes that never went out.
"At least we're not the only ones suffering," Kain murmured with irony. "Look at those Class D kids… they look nervous too."
"Yeah," Aiden replied with a sigh, "but I still hate the way they look at us. It feels like they're looking down on us."
Kain nodded. If it were only one or two people, it wouldn't matter much—but everyone was doing it. From the students of the higher classes to the civilians watching from the balconies, all of them stared the same way. It was irritating.
They climbed the stairs toward their classroom—1-E, located in one of the Academy's more secluded wings, far from the bustle of the main auditorium. The marble walls gleamed under the magical light streaming through the tall windows, displaying ancient engraved symbols that no one in Class E had time to admire; they were too busy worrying about their place in this small world that was the Academy.
The Class 1-E classroom was just what one would expect from a prestigious academy: spacious, well-lit, with neat rows of desks and a raised platform where the instructor of Class E would greet the students.
Kain was grateful that, regardless of class, all the classrooms were almost identical. The differences were minimal—perhaps in location or orientation—but the structure remained the same.
They weren't luxurious rooms filled with technology; in fact, there was a clear preference for practicality over theoretical display. Though there were classroom lessons, grades were based primarily on field tests.
Failing a written exam wasn't the end of the world… as long as you excelled in practice.
"This place looks better than I expected," Aiden commented as he stepped through the door, glancing around with curiosity.
Kain, walking a few steps ahead, turned his head slightly.
"Found a good spot?" he asked without stopping.
The boy nodded and raised his hand, pointing toward one of the desks in the back, next to the window.
"Over there. It's spacious, gets good light… and best of all, no one will bother us."
Aiden followed his gaze, evaluated the spot, and smiled in quiet approval.
"Perfect," he said, without overthinking it. For him, any seat would do—as long as he didn't have to fight for it.
As they made their way to the back, the chatter of the other students filled the room: restrained laughter, the thud of backpacks hitting desks, and the steady buzz of those still settling in. It was a kind of organized chaos—the sort of atmosphere that marked the beginning of something new.