Aris quickly reached the registration office, where several booths had been set up for enrollment in the Heart Academy.
There were ten long lines of children and youths standing before the booths, shifting restlessly under the blazing sun. Aris calmly swept his gaze around and noticed that all those waiting were commoners, with not a single noble or member of another race in sight.
The reason was clear enough: nobles received direct invitations that allowed them to join the elite classes. However, the number of invitations was limited, and nobles with weak abilities couldn't enter those classes. Out of arrogance and pride, they refused to join the ordinary classes with commoners. To them, they were the pinnacle of this world—how could they mix with the "worms" of the lower people? Wasn't it honor enough for those peasants to breathe the same air as them? And so, most nobles preferred to attend other academies or hire private tutors at home.
As for the other races, only the elite among them, those of high standing, had been chosen. To prevent conflicts, a gradual integration policy had been adopted, allowing their entry into Heart Academy slowly and in an organized manner.
The line was long, and the sun had turned into a blazing fire scorching the skin. Beads of sweat burst on the children's faces, releasing heavy odors. Many had grown impatient, fidgeting, dragging their feet, or wiping their faces with soaked sleeves.
Aris, however, stood completely calm, unconcerned. After all, he was the man who had fought the Demon King and sealed him away—what was a fleeting summer sun to him?
He muttered to himself as he watched the line:
"From the moment you stand here, your true test begins…"
He remembered his past, the first time he had incarnated in this world, when he discovered he had an official acceptance notice from the academy. At the time, he thought his entry was guaranteed, but was shocked when he wasn't admitted because he was an orphan with no money.
Some might wonder: why didn't he enter the elite classes directly, since the acceptance notice came from the academy itself?
The bitter truth was simple: he couldn't afford the price of opening the "back door."
He smiled bitterly and murmured to himself:
"Every time I recall that, I feel like I was such a fool back then… How did I dare to think of mingling with nobles?"
But this time, he had no intention of using that notice for anything more than ordinary registration, without humiliating himself or creating obstacles. As for the elite classes? Getting into those would be much easier later, because the Head of Heart Academy cared little for social standing—only for talent.
And Aris possessed both talent and experience, so he was confident the matter would be settled in his favor.
Finally, his turn arrived at the booth, with only one person ahead of him. The registrar was a young man who was clearly a student of the academy, despite his relatively simple appearance.
He wore a long coat reaching mid-thigh, made of soft wool with an elegant base color. Silver embroidery glimmered in the sunlight along the sleeves and hems. Shiny metal buttons engraved with the academy's emblem—a heart pierced by a small lightning bolt—fastened the coat.
His dark, slim trousers looked practical and fit for training, held in place by a neat leather belt with a clasp stamped with the academy's insignia. His polished leather boots reached the knee, gleaming with reflected light.
Over his shoulders hung a green cloak embroidered with the number (3) in shining silver thread.
Aris knew this uniform well: it was that of the ordinary classes, marked by silver. The elite classes bore gold instead. The number (3) showed he was a third-year student, while the green cloak signified he belonged to the sorcerers' division.
Aris raised his eyes slightly to study the young man's face. The registrar was busy with ledgers and papers laid out before him, but then glanced at the weary faces in the line behind. Seeing their exhaustion, he smiled gently.
Aris stepped forward quietly, pulling out his acceptance notice.
He smiled nervously, the whole matter still stirring unease within him.
The young registrar looked up, noticing Aris's strained smile and the trace of fear in his eyes, and returned a warm smile.
In a soft voice filled with light warmth, he said:
"Hello, no need to be nervous."
Aris's breath quivered slightly as he bit his lip and replied:
"Ah, thank you… I'm just really nervous."
The young man chuckled lightly and reassured him:
"Hehe, it's alright. Let's see… I can tell you're a free person."
Aris nodded like an obedient child and handed over his identification card.
The registrar placed the card on a magical device. A clear metallic chime rang out seconds later.
With a smile, the registrar said:
"Confirmed. You may proceed."
He handed the card back, and Aris clasped it tightly before tucking it into his pocket, feeling the cool metal against his fingers.
It was like an identity card from his previous life, but here it determined whether a person was free, enslaved, or even wanted for arrest.
Aris extended his hand, stopping the registrar before he began filling out the papers.
"Sir, I have this document… My father gave it to me before he died."
Taking advantage of the young man's kindness, Aris quickly pulled out the acceptance notice and handed it to him.
The registrar's expression shifted to puzzled curiosity at Aris's action, but he took the paper and began reading it carefully, the scratching of his quill filling the silence.
At that moment, Aris activated the "King's Eye."
[Name: Bain
Titles: Kind (helps those in need without hesitation) / Diligent (works hard, achieves results with half the effort)
Class: Two-ring Sorcerer
Attribute: Wind
Talent: B
Skills: Management / Wind Magic]
Aris whispered softly, his eyes glinting:
"So this is Bain… Not bad. He could enter the Magic Tower after graduation."
A sudden flicker appeared in Bain's eyes, as though he'd been startled for a moment, but he quickly concealed it. Aris, however, noticed it clearly with his watchful gaze.
Bain placed the acceptance notice on the desk and looked at Aris, saying:
"My friend, this document is valid. You can bring it with you on admission day along with your registration form."
His tone had shifted slightly; from merely calm and pleasant, it had become warmer, friendlier.
Others might not have noticed the change, but Aris felt something deeper—as though standing before an old friend.
Still, he didn't linger on it. As long as everything was proceeding smoothly, that was what mattered.
Taking his papers, he left the line. His expression shifted back to its usual calm, and he set off toward the element that could greatly aid him.
---
Aris wandered through Heart City.
The city pulsed with life: merchants shouting out their wares, women strolling about in conversation, adventurers coming and going in dust-stained clothes and clanking armor. Some carried spoils of battle, while others were on their way to seek more.
This was the outer city of the academy—one of the most important commercial and military hubs in the world.
Aris walked along the crowded main streets, then shifted direction, slipping into narrow alleys where the noise slowly faded, replaced by the stench of rot and garbage.
Where there is light, there is also darkness. And these slums were no exception.
Here dwelled the homeless, the orphans, and the thieves.
The smell was foul—a mixture of lingering waste and decayed dampness. Soot-stained walls, blackened as if corroded by smoke, gave off a suffocating atmosphere.
A few thieves approached Aris, intent on robbing him, but froze in place the moment they felt the killing intent seeping from him—a mere fragment of it, yet enough to chill them to the bone. Their shoulders trembled as though turned to ice.
It wasn't long before Aris reached an old shop. Its wooden structure was black with rot, as if eaten away by corruption.
He muttered as he raised his head to the battered sign:
"I remember Ryan telling me he got the Shadow Pendant from this shop."
Ryan… Aris's comrade and friend. The very item Aris now sought was the Shadow Pendant.
According to Ryan, this pendant could conceal information from every method of detection or divination. Precisely what Aris desired.
He pushed open the door, and a metallic chime rang out:
Ring…
At once, a suffocating stench of mold struck his nose, though his expression remained calm as his eyes swept through the store.
He saw stacks of books, rusty tools, raw ores, scattered bones of beasts—and humans.
Behind a wooden counter sat an old woman. Her face was etched with deep wrinkles, her pale hair falling in thin strands, her nose hooked, her clouded eyes fixed on the book in her hands.
Aris activated the King's Eye on her, but it revealed nothing beyond what she appeared to be: an ordinary old woman.
He didn't dwell on it, instead wandering among the shelves, scanning everything with sharp precision.
Soon enough, he found the pendant:
[Name: Shadow Pendant
Type: Accessory
Grade: Legendary
Function: Conceals private information from all forms of espionage / Allows merging with shadows by channeling dark energy, granting the wearer free movement within them
Description: Once belonged to the Thief Lord, who forced nobles and rulers alike to hide their treasures in fear of him]
A faint smile touched Aris's lips as he whispered to himself:
"It seems this item was meant for me… not for Ryan."
As he prepared to leave, something else caught his eye: a cube-shaped wooden box with two holes—one like a devouring mouth, the other like an outlet.
[Name: Tolf's Box
Type: Artifact
Grade: Legendary
Function: Devours anything placed inside. If two items of the same type are placed within, it fuses them, producing a single item that combines their powers
Description: A box crafted by the greatest alchemist #### for the purpose of fusion ####]
Aris's pupils widened, his heart pounding in surprise. He hadn't expected such a windfall. The box radiated extraordinary strength.
"But… why is the name hidden? And what exactly should I fuse?"
In truth, Aris wished he could know the name of that legendary alchemist, but it seemed impossible.
He searched the shop once more, but found nothing else of use. Deciding not to linger until nightfall, he moved to the counter and asked:
"How much for these two?"
At last, the old woman lifted her gaze from her book, her clouded eyes resting on him. A gentle smile creased her face.
Aris's heart skipped for an instant, as though something familiar seeped into him.
"A fine young man… You have a good eye."
He swallowed lightly and answered quietly:
"Thank you… but how much are they?"
"Ten copper coins."
Aris's eyes widened in shock.
"Is that true? Did you not mistake the price?"
The old woman nodded, offering no argument.
Aris didn't question her further. He paid the price, took the two items, and left.
Her eyes followed his back as he departed, and she murmured softly:
"He has grown so much since last time…"
From a dark corner, a cold voice echoed:
"Yes… he has become a strong young man now. Do you wish us to protect him, my lady?"
The old woman answered with a serene smile:
"No… he has grown, and he must continue to grow. In the end, he will return."
As for Aris, his mind raced with thoughts as he walked the shadowed streets.
"What is happening? Ryan said he bought it with a silver coin, and if her teacher hadn't told him about the pendant's power, he wouldn't have bought it. So why then did she sell it to me so easily?"
That strange, familiar feeling lingered with him—as though he had stood before someone very close.