Dex and Van walked along the long corridor, the morning sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows, casting patterns of blue and gold on the floor.
However, the visual tranquility was accompanied by a buzz of whispers floating in the air. Students who had just left class gathered in groups in the corners of the hallway—some leaning against the walls while scanning announcement papers, others busy discussing which club they would join.
Classes were over, and now they were required to join at least one club as students of this academy.
"What club do you want to join, Dex?" Van suddenly asked, breaking Dex's private silence. His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to echo softly against the ceiling.
Dex didn't answer immediately. His steps slowed as he noticed the announcement board plastered on the wall, adorned with club posters. Each poster looked like an invitation to a different world.
The Swordsmanship Club featured the black silhouette of a dual-sword warrior standing atop a cliff, with a stormy sea raging below. Its slogan was simple: "Kill your limits before they kill you."
The Archery Club displayed an image of a silver-coated longbow surrounded by flying bird silhouettes. The Beast Taming Club showcased a griffin spreading its wings under an orange sky. There was even a Strategy and Board Club, with a chessboard where the pieces transformed into miniature knights and dragons.
Dex let his eyes linger for a moment on a poster simpler than the others—the Artifact Research Club. It only showed a wooden table cluttered with glass tools, thick books, and an unfamiliar crystal. The poster wasn't flashy, but for some reason, it intrigued Dex.
Van leaned his back against the wall beside him. "Don't tell me you're joining the Research Club. That's where the bookworms spend hours discussing useless things." He looked at Dex with a mix of teasing and curiosity. "You'd fit better in the Swordsmanship or Mage Club. Something you know, something that looks cool."
Dex smiled faintly but neither agreed nor disagreed.
Every club had its own tier. High-tier clubs, like the Swordsmanship Club, even had their own dedicated buildings, while low and mid-tier clubs had to share space.
They walked toward one majestic building with a sword emblem at its entrance. From a distance, the clashing sound of swords could be heard. One of the practice halls had its door half-open, and bright white light spilled out—the Swordsmanship Club was training.
Through the crack in the door, the sound of clashing metal echoed in the training hall. Inside, surrounded by many spectators, dozens of students were practicing under the supervision of a tall, silver-haired instructor. Their movements weren't just simple slashes and thrusts—each swing was executed with precision, each step utilized distance, balance, and momentum.
"Your steps are too heavy! Think of your sword as an extension of your body, not a burden!" the instructor called out. His voice was sharp but held no harshness—only instruction.
"See that? The Swordsmanship Club is no joke," Van said, his eyes observing intently. "I heard the vice headmaster sometimes tests them personally. She even teaches them herself occasionally."
Dex recalled his battle with the vice headmaster the previous night. She indeed possessed extraordinary strength and speed, but it felt as if she was still holding back.
*Well, that's none of my business.*
While Van was filling out the registration form, Dex quietly slipped away to another building.
Dex shifted his gaze. From the other side of the building, a large door with circular rune carvings emitted faint glimmers of light—the Mage Club. A pale blonde-haired girl stepped out from that door, followed by the scent of ozone and warm air that seemed to flow from another dimension. In her hand, she held a crystal staff that still sparkled with residual light.
The crowd of students grew denser around this junction of the corridor. At this point, every club had its own building or training hall, and many intentionally left their doors half-open, as if trying to lure new students with a glimpse of their power.
But Dex simply passed them all by.
He walked toward one of the quieter-looking buildings. Its door wasn't adorned with illusions, and there was no crowd in front of it. Inside, the hallway was neat, clean, and silent. There were club name signs on every door, but as far as he could see, he hadn't found the Artifact Research Club yet.
"Hmm, maybe it's not in this building?" he muttered to himself.
He continued walking down the hallway. The farther he went, the fewer people he encountered.
Finally, at the end of the hallway, he saw it—a plain white door with simple lettering:
**Artifact Research Club.**
It wasn't large, but not too small either. Dex wondered why it had to be so far out of the way.
Dex reached for the doorknob and slowly pushed it open. The hinges creaked softly.
Inside, the room was filled with the scent of old paper and burnt metal. Two people were sitting at separate tables. One was a girl with brown hair, hunched over her work. Her hair was tied back loosely, her face shaded but her eyes sharp, as if critically examining the book she was working on. A quill in her hand moved gracefully across a large notebook, leaving behind rows of intricate symbols Dex didn't recognize. She glanced up briefly before returning to her writing.
The other had short blue hair and wore a gray cap that covered part of her forehead. She didn't look up when Dex entered, only glancing briefly before returning to adjusting a small, glowing cylinder in her hands. No greetings were offered—only the faint clinking of metal, the scratching of a quill, and the ticking of an old clock in the corner of the room.
The aroma of old paper and burnt metal greeted him. Dim light from a high window slanted across the wooden floor, highlighting dust particles floating in the air. Shelves filled with artifact fragments lined the walls. Large wooden tables were cluttered with strangely shaped glass equipment—some containing thick, slowly swirling liquids, others empty but cracked at the edges—and chalkboards covered in complex schematics.
Suddenly, a hand gripped his shoulder from behind. When Dex turned, he saw a familiar frowning face—it was Van, who seemed annoyed at being left behind.
"If you're going to stand in the doorway, the door knows how to close itself," the brown-haired girl said without looking up. Her voice was flat, but there was a cold tone that irritated Van.
Dex and Van stepped inside, letting the door slowly close behind them. The room felt even quieter, filled only by the sound of scratching pens, clinking metal, and the ticking of the old clock.
"I'm Dex," he said shortly.
"I'm Van," Van added just as briefly.
A brief silence filled the room, broken by a soft click from the cylinder in the blue-haired girl's hands. The greenish light inside pulsed and then slowly faded.
"I'm Yora," the girl said. "The active artifact member of this club. I'm the one who decides whether an artifact is safe or needs to be locked in the iron vault under the floor."
"And I'm Lien," the brown-haired girl continued, closing her book. "President of the Artifact Research Club. My job is to make sure people like her—" She glanced briefly at Yora, "—don't blow up the entire building out of curiosity."
Yora shrugged, not denying it.
Van let out a sigh, half-nervous, half-incredulous. "Why did I have to end up in this weird club?"