I woke up early, far earlier than I should have, considering how little I cared about what the day had in store. Today was the start of official classes, and more importantly, the day I'd share a classroom with the so-called "main cast."
Not exactly my idea of fun.
Still, I wasn't about to sulk in bed. I brewed myself some coffee, the bitter aroma filling the small dorm room. The warmth spread through my hands as I took a slow sip, letting the dark liquid settle in my chest. It was a calm ritual, one that centered me.
As I drank, I remembered: today, all the pieces of the board would finally gather in one place. The heroes, rivals, prodigies, and fools—everyone destined to shine in the academy's story. And me? I had no intention of crossing paths with them if I could help it. The less I was noticed, the better.
Finishing the last of the coffee, I set the cup down and headed for the bathroom. The hiss of water filled the room as steam clung to the air. By the time I stepped out of the shower, I felt refreshed enough to face the noise of the day.
I pulled out the uniform hanging neatly in my wardrobe: crisp white shirt, black trousers, the red tie, and the dark overcoat that hung just right on the shoulders. Clean. Professional. Pretentious.
I dressed quickly, adjusting the cuffs and all. But I had a small problem. I didn't know how do the tie properly. I tried tying it but it ended up crooked everytime. Eventually I have up. There were some students who didn't were their tie. I too decided to not wear the tie.
After finishing up getting reached I looked at the mirror, a smirk tugged at my lips.
"Well," I muttered, tilting my head slightly, "if nothing else, at least I look the part."
Well I wouldn't call my self handsome, but I'm sure that I'm one of the good looking guys.
Playful words, but the smile didn't reach my eyes. A mask—same as always.
The clock read 8:15. Still plenty of time.
I gave my reflection one last look, then turned and left the room.
The academy grounds were different this morning. Usually, the paths were quiet, sparsely populated. But now? A sea of uniforms spread across the courtyards and walkways. Students clustered in groups, laughing, chattering, some hurrying with stacks of books, others strutting with the confidence of peacocks.
The air itself felt charged, brimming with expectation.
I moved through the crowd at an unhurried pace, ignoring the glances and occasional whispers. Just another student, blending into the stream. Nothing worth noticing.
Inside the main building, the hallways were just as alive. Footsteps echoed against polished stone floors, the faint scent of chalk and parchment hanging in the air. I kept walking until I found the sign I was looking for:
A15.
This classroom would serve as the stage where the "story" truly began. The place where the main cast would gather.
I drew a quiet breath, then pushed the door open.
The classroom buzzed with life. Students were scattered across rows of desks, some chatting animatedly, others bent over notes as if the world would end if they stopped scribbling. A few heads turned when I entered, curiosity flickering in their eyes. But just as quickly, they dismissed me.
Perfect.
I made my way to the back of the room, my preferred territory. From here, I had a full view of the class without being boxed in. A hunter's vantage point.
Sliding into the chair, I leaned back slightly and let my gaze wander.
Conversations drifted through the air. To my left, a group of students were excitedly recounting a dungeon raid—something about barely surviving a monster's ambush. Their words were exaggerated, tones swelling with the thrill of retelling the near-death experience. The listeners hung on every detail, wide-eyed and eager.
In front of me, another cluster of students whispered about weekend plans.
"We should totally go to the dungeon my guild discovered," one said eagerly.
"Really? We can?" her friend replied, smiling—but I noticed the way her hand gripped her sleeve too tightly, the faint narrowing of her eyes. Envy dressed as excitement.
I watched silently, lips twitching faintly.
'Funny, how people hide their fangs behind smiles.'
I settled deeper into my chair, quietly amused by their little dramas.
The door creaked open.
Every conversation halted as three figures stepped inside.
At their front walked a young man with jet-black hair and piercing golden eyes. His presence was undeniable—sharp, commanding, the kind of aura that bent a room's attention without effort. His handsome face and poised stride screamed of someone who believed he belonged above the rest.
Adrian Lionheart.
The first rival of the protagonist. The academy's top student. The prodigy of the Lionheart family. Son of a Monarch.
Even if someone didn't know his name, his arrogance would tell them everything.
"Tch! What are you looking at, lowly dogs?" Adrian sneered, his voice carrying across the room.
As expected, most students immediately looked away, shrinking back. Some of the girls blushed despite themselves.
'As expected. The elitist act suits him.'
Adrian's lackeys followed close behind, shadows of his arrogance. They weren't worth remembering.
But before he could settle in, the door opened again.
This time, a girl stepped through.
Her long white hair shimmered, flowing like silk behind her. Her gray eyes caught the light, clear and cold, as though nothing in the room could stir her.
Celestina Frostborn.
A prodigy in her own right.She was the second ranked student.
Her arrival shifted the air instantly, whispers rising among the students.
Adrian's gaze softened when he looked at her—his mask of disdain briefly slipping, replaced by something almost tender. The little detail most failed to catch. Not everyone knew that Adrian harboured feelings for her, but Celestina, as always, seemed indifferent. She walked off and took a seat by the front row.
I noted it quietly. Another piece of the board falling into place.
CREAK
More arrivals followed.
the door swung wide open once again, revealing a familiar figure that I saw in the cafeteria Saturday.
It was a girl with blonde hair and violet eyes. Another face in the academy upper ranks.
Julia Evercrest.
Following Julia, two other girls entered the room.
One of them had fiery red hair and an arrogant smile on her face.This was Amelia Crimsonheart, one of the key figures in the academy and a prominent member of the main cast.
And the other one had green hair and red eyes that was beautiful. Instantly, almost every male inside the classroom was about to droll, looking at the girl's face.
She was Melissa, the campus belle, through the end
The trio walked in like they owned the space.
"Yo! Mister Cool-guy! Prickly as usual in the morning!" Amelia's loud voice broke the silence, directed squarely at Adrian.
"Shut up," he shot back, face twisted in irritation.
Amelia only smirked. "Why? Because Prince Lionheart is mad?"
"….…." He glared at Amelia with an irritated face, but he didn't do anything, even though he was someone with a strong background, that was the same for Amelia, who was also the Daughter of a Monarch. The strongest Fire Mage alive.
Adrian walked off and took a seat at the front row.
"It seems you have had your fill to curse for the morning."
Saying that Amelia sat behind Adrian, and her face was covered with a smile. It was a smile that was normal for others, but I knew why she was so adamant about playing with Adrian.
After all, she liked him. It wasn't revealed in the game, but I could see the signs clearly. The signs that Amelia showed Michael when her route was pursued as a romantic interest were now there.
Her small gestures when she played with her hair, the way she rubbed her thumb into her index finger…
With a fiery persona like that, Amelia was someone that liked people stronger than herself, and Adrian fit in that category.
'But I am sure it is his looks….' I thought, but of course, I didn't say anything.
Following her, Julia, who had a bright smile on her face, and Melissa, who had a blunt face, sat on the second row.
Celestina, already seated at the front, tilted her head ever so slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"Hey there, Hellfire Demoness."
Amelia's eyes twitched at the name, a quiet hiss slipping from her throat. "Tch. Don't call me that, you Frost Witch."
Celestina's smile deepened, cool and sharp as the frost she commanded.
Watching them, I couldn't help but feel the weight behind their words. This wasn't just some petty exchange between classmates—it was the latest spark in a rivalry that had been burning long before either of them stepped into this academy. Both hailed from the Luminaris Dominion, a land brimming with magical heritage, and from two families whose names carried thunderous weight: the Crimsonhearts and the Frostborns.
The Crimsonhearts were fire incarnate—fierce, unyielding, and dazzling in their might. Amelia was their sole heir, raised to embody everything her bloodline stood for. Her fiery personality and ruthless drive made her the perfect successor.
The Frostborns, on the other hand, were the embodiment of ice—measured, unshakable, and merciless. Celestina carried that mantle with effortless grace, her calm and cutting demeanor as dangerous as the blizzards she commanded.
Generations of rivalry between their houses now boiled down to these two heirs. Amelia and Celestina weren't just competing for themselves—they were carrying the pride of their families on their shoulders. Every glance, every word, every clash between them was more than personal.
Yet, there was more to their animosity than heritage or duty. The game had already hinted at it, but seeing it unfold before my very eyes was something else entirely.
In truth, the rivalry between Amelia and Celestina wasn't just about fire versus ice, Crimsonheart versus Frostborn, or even the weight of their families' legacies. It was tangled in something far more human, far more fragile—love.
Amelia liked Adrian, but Adrian's heart was set on Celestina. This unrequited affection was one of the core reasons behind Amelia and Celestina's rivalry. Seeing it play out in real life rather than on a screen made it all the more fascinating.
CREAK
But, immediately, the door opened once again, revealing another three people, this time all of them being males.
Three boys burst in with loud voices.
"You bastard, don't think you can run faster than me next time."
"Fuck… just wait three months… I'll run faster than you—"
"Jurian! Mind your language."
"Sigh…. Silas, not again."
The commotion was familiar.
At the center: a boy with wavy blue hair and hazel eyes. His smile was easy, his energy unrestrained.
Michael Orbane.
The protagonist. The weakest now, but destined to rise.
In The Strongest Hunter's Rise, Michael started as one of the weakest characters in the class, only growing stronger as the story progressed. Right now Michael was still at the bottom in terms of strength and skill.
Beside him stood Jurian, blonde hair and violet eyes, his scowl poorly masking embarrassment. And Silas, the bulky one, serious and exasperated.
The main cast was complete.
'All the actors on stage… finally gathered.'
"Hey. Morning."
Michael greeted the frontier main cast with a smile on his own.
"Tch. Don't talk to me."
Adrian just sneered in response.
"Adrian, don't be rude to him."
But, hearing what Celestina said, he immediately took a 180 degrees turn and changed his attitude. "Okay, my bad."
Celestina didn't even spare him a glance. Her words, weren't meant as genuine acknowledgment—just a quick dismissal to cut off the tiresome back-and-forth before it could spiral into more needless banter.
"Tch…" I could see Amelia glaring at Celestina. Knowing that the man she liked showed his affection for another girl must have hurt her pride, and it was obvious that she was having a hard time controlling her emotions.
But in the end, she did.
As the main cast settled into their seats, the classroom atmosphere remained lively with chatter and laughter.
The chatter grew louder, the atmosphere shifting with each personality clashing.
Michael teased Jurian about blowing up his room, Amelia and Julia chimed in with laughter, and the rest of the cast slipped into their roles as if a play had just begun.
I observed from the back, my expression calm. Quiet. Detached.
Patterns emerged quickly—the glances, rivalries, envies, affections. All the little strings that tied them together. And I sat there, watching them weave their story, all while ensuring I remained outside of it.
The door creaked again.
This time, it wasn't a student.
A woman entered—her stride sharp, her expression serious, her voice cutting through the chatter like a blade.
"Silence."
The room froze.
And just like that, class truly began.