I watched as the other students of Class S, A, and even B crowded around the floating weapons, one after another forging contracts with their chosen arms. Bright lights flared, runic circles spun beneath their feet, and some even had dramatic gusts of wind blow their hair back like some cheesy anime cutscene.
Meanwhile, I stood there. Empty-handed.
Still unable to wield a weapon I could call my own, let alone one that wouldn't instantly reject me because of my lack of mana.
…Honestly, the irony of being a magicless extra in a full-blown fantasy world wasn't lost on me.
I shuffled through the rows of floating weapons, staring at weapons that clearly wanted nothing to do with me. Students whispered excitedly as their contracts were finalized, while I silently pitied myself for even pretending I had a chance here.
Maybe I should just ask Professor Argois to give me a standard sword. You know, a regular old lump of sharpened steel. Except… ordinary weapons don't work on people or monsters with mana. Meaning even if I swung it around like a maniac, the most I'd do is tickle someone's magical barrier.
Which meant… I had to accept it. Just like in the game.
Dean Mayfest never got a weapon during the arming ceremony. And neither would I.
I sighed and stopped in the middle of the floating low class weapon area. All around me hovered swords, spears, grimoires, wands, even bizarre accessories that glowed faintly like they were begging to be picked.
Half of these were familiar. NOTFH's early-game weapons. The kind of junk gear you equipped at level one before tossing it the moment you found something better. Most added a pathetic +2 or +3 to basic stats. Pretty much useless to someone like me who couldn't even channel mana to make use of those buffs.
Still, my gaze settled on a sword.
It floated slightly apart from the others — a slim, jian-like blade with a white sheen. No guard. The handle wrapped in blackened leather and some strange singed material etched with faint engravings.
I frowned. I was sure I'd seen this blade before in the game… but the name wouldn't come to me.
Curiosity got the better of me. I reached out and grabbed it.
Nothing happened.
No magical light show. No runes. No system ding. Just me holding a sword.
I lifted it up, squinting at the engravings, trying to remember where this was from—
"Done picking out your weapon?"
Professor Argois's voice jolted me. I turned around nervously, the sword still in my hand.
"Ah, uh— I actually… haven't found one yet," I said.
Argois raised a brow, then glanced down at the blade in my hand. His eyes narrowed in a way that made my stomach drop.
"It appears you already have," he replied.
"…Huh?" I blinked and looked down at the sword.
Wait. No. This isn't what it looks like—
Before I could explain, Argois straightened his posture and loudly declared for everyone to hear, "Now that you've all chosen your arms, I expect you to train diligently. Take care of them well, and show me the fruits of your efforts in the coming years!"
"Professor, wait— I didn't—"
"Class dismissed!"
Just like that.
The crowd dispersed. Students chatted excitedly about their new weapons. And I stood there in the middle of the armory, holding a sword that apparently decided it liked me without asking for my permission.
My face twisted in defeat. I silently pleaded for Argois to listen to me, but he was already gone.
I sighed. Of course. Of course this would happen.
....
Later in the halls of Arcadia Acadmey.
Yang walked through the halls, her stave Ebony resting comfortably in her hand. Satisfaction radiated through her — she had successfully forged a contract with Ebony, a high-class weapon, something even among S-Class students was rare.
And strangely enough, she had that odd boy, Dean Mayfest, to thank for it.
But there was something about it that didn't add up.
He lied to her.
He'd said Ebony was a middle-class weapon. But she'd known from the start — from the novel Destiny of Hearts itself — that Ebony was high-class. Why lie?
Did he want her to get Ebony from the start? Was it just a coincidence? Or did he plan it?
If he did, how could he possibly know she was compatible with it? He had no mana. He shouldn't even be able to sense compatibility.
And the name "Dean Mayfest" wasn't mentioned anywhere in the story she remembered. He was a complete nobody.
She sighed, stopping by a window. The sunset painted the sky orange, and her reflection stared back at her as she quietly asked, "Who exactly are you…?"
Her friends' voices interrupted her thoughts.
"Yang! Hurry up before we leave without you!"
"We've got a ton to study!"
"Let's grab something to eat first!"
Yang smiled faintly and turned toward them. She decided to leave her questions for another time. For now, she'd enjoy the moment.
...
Later that night, I collapsed onto my bed with a groan.
Please. Please lte tomorrow be easy.
I rolled over, face buried in my pillow. But when I peeked out, my eyes fell on the sword leaning against my desk.
My sword.
A magic sword.
Wielded by a magicless idiot.
"Oh, the irony," I muttered, laughing dryly.
Then, a system message appeared before my eyes.
[You Have Altered The Story In A Unique Way!.]
[Rewards Will Be Distributed Accordingly…]
I buried my face back into my pillow with a muffled groan.
I wished I could sleep forever. But I knew better. This world never let me off that easy.