The moment Hayden Break subdued Ophnear, the entire hall erupted into a frenzy.
Gasps, whispers, even outright shouting filled the air:
"Did you see that?!"
"A freshman tamed a High-Class Arm!"
"Is that even allowed!?"
"No way… Hayden Break, of all people—"
I leaned back against the wall, arms crossed loosely as I watched the chaos unfold from a safe distance.
Yup. This was bound to happen.
Still, watching it play out in real life instead of as a cutscene on my old monitor hit differently. The rush, the mana pressure, the sheer presence Hayden exuded—it wasn't something a screen could ever convey. And now everyone knew it too.
Hayden's reputation is about to skyrocket… just the way it did in the game.
Professors would start watching him closely. The head principal of Arcadia Academy would take note. And then, inevitably… the Organization of Ethris. Eyes would turn toward him, hungry for talent, influence, or control.
And that's what made my stomach twist.
Because I knew how those routes could play out. Some led to great things—Hayden becoming a savior, a linchpin in humanity's survival. Others… not so much. The worst ones were when he turned his back on humanity entirely. Those storylines weren't pretty.
I glanced toward Hayden. He stood a little ways away, examining Ophnear in his hands, spinning it lazily like it weighed nothing. His easy smile and that faint glimmer of mischief in his eyes were exactly as I remembered.
If only I could steer you away from the bad flags.
But, it's not my story nor say. It all falls onto Yang.
Then his gaze snapped to me.
I froze.
For a heartbeat, we just stared at each other. Then, Hayden broke into a bright, almost friendly smile and waved casually before turning and walking off as if nothing happened.
"…What the hell was that about?" I muttered, nervously scratching my cheek.
The ceremony continued. One by one, students formed contracts with various Arms. Most walked away with Low-Class weapons—typical for freshmen. A rare few managed Middle-Class contracts, drawing murmurs of respect from their peers.
Meanwhile, I…
Well, I was still weaponless.
Not like I didn't expect this outcome. No mana, no reaction.
Even if I touched one, it's not like it would do anything for me anyway.
I scanned the crowd, picking out familiar faces.
Rumia Von Yuraveil had claimed a Middle-Class Magic Sword imbued with Shadow affinity, perfect for close-to-mid range dueling. Kamel Ar Veilworth had gone for a Middle-Class Stave, fire and wind affinities—classic ranged artillery. Hector Van Unnova wore an ornate golden necklace imbued with shielding magic, hands-off and defensive. Edwin Lockbane slipped on an enchanted ring with water affinity, boosting mana output for support.
All expected choices, lining up almost perfectly with their game counterparts.
But there was one person I hadn't spotted yet.
And then I saw her.
Yang.
Her long platinum-blonde hair was tied into a neat silky ponytail that swayed lightly as she moved. Her dark sea-green eyes glimmered under the sunlight streaming through the weapons. She walked slowly through the rows of weapon racks, scanning everything with a mix of curiosity and hesitation.
Ah, there she is.
In the NOTFH, she should have already contracted Ebony, the wand that became her signature weapon. But as I watched, she tilted her head at the ornate white-and-gold wand… and then turned away from it.
My stomach dropped.
Wait—WHAT?!
That's Ebony! That's your main weapon!
Why are you walking away?!
My pulse spiked. This wasn't right. If she didn't choose Ebony, the entire story would derail. But… the System hadn't notified me of any narrative divergence.
So why is she not picking it?
Panic spiraled in my chest. I needed to do something. Something subtle. Drawing attention to myself here would be suicide.
Think, Dewn. Think.
I cycled through ideas—each one dumber than the last. Shouting at her? No. Throwing something? Stupid. Running up and declaring "That's your destiny weapon"? …suicidal.
Then, finally, a half-baked idea formed. It wasn't good, but it was something.
....
Yang wandered among the racks, unease coiling in her stomach.
Around her, students laughed, bragged, and celebrated their new weapons. She, meanwhile, remained empty-handed.
She knew from the novel that when a weapon and wielder resonated, a contract would form almost instantly. Compatibility, magic proficiency, and spirit alignment—those were the key factors.
The wand she'd looked at earlier was certainly pretty. Maybe too pretty. It looked powerful. Probably Middle-Class, maybe even rare. But could she handle something like that?
Sure, I've memorized the magic theory. I can cast. But what if S Class was just a fluke?
The thought gnawed at her. She'd made it this far thanks to her knowledge from Destiny Of Hearts, but knowledge didn't erase doubt.
She was so lost in thought that she almost didn't notice the boy who appeared in front of her.
Short messy ash-brown hair. Carolina-blue eyes. A nervous smile that twitched at the corners like he was forcing it to stay put.
"Uh—hi," he greeted awkwardly.
Yang blinked. "…Hi."
"I'm Dean. Dean Mayfest." He cleared his throat, looking like he was about to choke on air.
"Yang," she replied shortly, tilting her head. "Do you… need something?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, noticed you were having some trouble picking a weapon. Same here. It's kind of a mess, huh?"
Her brows furrowed slightly. "Yeah. Why?"
He raised both hands in mock surrender, nervously chuckling. "No reason! Just… saw you staring at that wand earlier." He pointed behind her.
Yang turned to glance at the ornate wand again, frowning. "That one? It's too much for me. Probably Middle-Class. I wouldn't be able to handle it properly."
Dean paused, then leaned in slightly, speaking in a measured but nervous tone.
"Actually… that one's not Middle-Class."
Yang blinked. "…What?"
"It's in the wrong section. And its mana output's nowhere near what the other Middle-Class weapons are giving off," he said, scratching his cheek. "It just looks fancy. Some lower-class weapons are like that. Looks can be deceiving."
She turned back toward the wand, thoughtful. Now that he mentioned it, the mana it gave off was… muted. Subtle.
Could it really be…?
She didn't know why this boy was trying to help her, but his words lodged themselves in her head.
No. Stop overthinking it.
Yang exhaled slowly, then walked toward the wand.
....
I nearly sagged in relief when she turned back.
She bought it.
Honestly, if she'd asked me even one follow-up question, I would've folded like wet paper. That was my first interaction with the protagonist, and my nerves were shot.
Yang reached out and touched the wand—Ebony—and immediately, a surge of mana erupted like a pulse of light.
The aftershock slammed into my heightened senses thanks to [Second Sight], making my stomach churn and head pound.
God—why does resonance have to feel like I stuck my head in a subwoofer
I steadied myself and watched as radiant golden light wrapped around Yang's hand and the wand, threads of mana intertwining like vines. She'd done it. She'd chosen Ebony.
Step one towards the good ending—-secured.
And, selfishly, my survival chances just ticked upward too.
Yang turned her head slightly, her sea-green eyes locking onto me. I flinched. Again. But this time, she smiled faintly and gave a short nod before walking away.
I stood there, mouth slightly open.
"…First Hayden, now Yang. Why are the main characters always so damn nonchalant?"