The road stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythm of hooves. Darian sat with the Redmond blade across his lap, the satchel resting at his side.
Sir Aldren studied him for a time before speaking.
"You held yourself well yesterday," he said. "For someone without mana, your form with a blade is… almost perfect".
Darian glanced up, surprised by the rare note of approval in the knight's voice. "Coming from you, that almost sounds like praise."
Aldren's mouth twitched, but he gave no answer. His eyes returned to the passing landscape.
When the carriage finally slowed, Darian looked out the window.
Before them stood the Academy gates—tall ironwork crowned with the academy crest, a pair of crossed swords beneath a rising sun.
Beyond the gates stretched a wide courtyard of stone, clean and orderly, leading to the main hall with its pale walls and high arches. Banners hung from the towers, their colors bright against the morning sky.
Other carriages had already arrived. Young nobles stepped down, each carrying themselves with polished pride. Crests stitched on cloaks glimmered in the light. Their voices carried low, their eyes sharp as they noticed the Redmond carriage draw to a halt.
Darian stepped down onto the stones. The weight of their gazes pressed against him, but his expression didn't shift. He adjusted the strap of his satchel, the blade at his side catching the early sun.
Aldren took one last glance at Darian
"Take care young lord"
Darian nodded and waved as the carriage left.
The academy's gates stood open. Without pause, he entered the gates.
The academy's courtyard was wide, paved in pale stone that gleamed faintly in the morning light. Young nobles crossed it in small groups, their voices low, their posture straight with practiced pride. Darian walked alone, the Redmond blade at his side, his stride steady.
A few eyes lingered on him, whispers trailing in the air.
"The Cursed Count... is that him? ...The academy actually accepted him?"
Darian ignored them, his gaze fixed ahead.
The great doors of the main hall stood open. Inside, rows of tall pillars lined a vast chamber where the new students gathered. Banners of the academy hung high, crimson and silver, their weight heavy in the air.
At the front, a raised platform waited. A handful of instructors stood there, their robes and cloaks marked with the academy's crest. At the center was a tall man in formal black, his presence commanding. His silver hair caught the light as he surveyed the hall, waiting until the murmurs died into silence.
Darian found his place among the gathered nobles, arms folded loosely. He stood without fuss, watching as the headmaster's voice carried across the chamber.
"Welcome, sons and daughters of noble blood. You stand now at the threshold of the Sword Academy. Here, you will be tested. Not by name, nor by wealth, but by skill, discipline, and strength."
The words echoed, firm and sharp.
"This place will shape heirs and warriors. Some of you will rise to honor your houses. Others will falter. What you carry into these halls—your blade, your mana, your pride—will be measured without leniency."
He let the words hang in the air before finishing.
"Be ready to prove yourselves."
The assembly hall remained still, heavy with unspoken challenge.
He continued
"This year, the Academy welcomes many of noble birth and fine promise. Yet among you, two stand apart already—newcomers whose skill and reputation precede their arrival."
"We will hear from one of them. Lady Melinda of Rosavre."
A stir moved through the students. When Melinda stepped forward, the hall seemed to sharpen around her presence. Her silver-white hair flowed like light itself, her posture flawless, every step confident without hesitation. She was Darian's age, yet she bore the poise of someone who already considered herself beyond the norm.
She paused at the center, chin lifted ever so slightly, her expression calm but sharpened with pride.
"This Academy is… respectable," she began, her voice ringing clear. "Its traditions long, its halls storied. But for me?" Her smile curved faintly, beautiful and cold. "It will never be more than a stepping stone. Maybe not even a challenge".
The weight of her words pressed on the chamber, the kind of truth no one wanted to admit aloud. For she was strong—overwhelmingly so. They all knew it.
Except for Darian, he was yawning. He wasn't even paying attention to the speech.
"Many of you will fail.. "She paused and thought for a few seconds. "All of you will fail.. and fall but that's just natural against me"
"I won't waste much of my precious time so I'll end my speech here" Her voice elegant yet firm, filled with confidence.
She walked off the stage.
Her words hung in the air. No applause followed. Only the steady, heavy silence of an audience that knew her arrogance was not baseless.
The headmaster gave a single nod.
"That concludes the assembly. You will now be shown to your dorm rooms".