"First is your attendance quota. As Class Alpha, yours is the lowest with fifty percent attendance required. Every class below you has progressively worse conditions, so consider this luxury carefully. The less time you are chained to a desk the more time you have to meet the other three quotas."
He raised a finger. "And the second quota… is the one that tends to separate the dreamers from the dropouts."
The lights on the crystal board dimmed. A new glowing line appeared in bold crimson font:
EXP QUOTA — MINIMUM REQUIRED PER MONTH: 700,000
"You're out of your mind if you think anyone can pull that off!"
The entire class froze, because the girl who stood at Rank 1 with a level that broke logic said that. If she thought it was too much… Oh, then it was doomsday.
Even Dragan muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "jebo te život…"
Thaddeus, to his credit, didn't flinch. "Yes, and it's supposed to be too much for the regular versions of you."
He tapped the board again, and the glowing number pulsed brighter.
"Seven hundred thousand EXP is the threshold required for elite Saints-in-training. All the Twelve Apostles, including myself agreed to this standard. While this would absolutely be impossible for just anyone... Class Alpha," He spread his hands slowly. "You are expected to lead by example. No other class should be near your level, and you should be way above the rest of this fine instututes students. Also, you must remember what resources you now have access to"
He paused, letting them breathe for a moment before delivering the real bomb. "All Gates on this planet are at your disposal."
The class didn't scream at first. They just stared, wide-eyed, disbelieving, stunned into stillness.
"Please," he continued, "Do not forget who the headmaster of this Institute is. Matthew Steel is the man who, even before their appearance, owned most of the land on which the Gates manifested. By the Declaration of Argos, which you should already know, every matter related to Gates falls strictly under the jurisdiction of the Twelve Apostles, and is directly overseen by Matthew Steel himself."
"That means," Thaddeus said, spreading his arms, "You will be granted free access to all Gates, not merely stray demons wandering the surface."
He never finished, because Class Alpha erupted, a single unified scream of joy so violent it shook the windows. The idea of entering real Gates, actual Gates was something no one their age ever dreamed would become reality so soon.
Thaddeus snapped his fingers and a golden burst of force pulsed through the room in a shockwave. Every mouth opened and no sound came out.
The sudden silence was absolute as only the teacher was allowed to speak. "I would very much like to finish speaking before you all combust. Yes, Gates have been forbidden to anyone who is not an official Saint. And even then, newly recognized Saints twenty years of age or older are only granted access to low-tier Gates. High-quality Gates are reserved for the highest ranks of Apostles. And by our decree, you will be given only the highest quality Gates."
Thaddeus let them shake it out for five seconds, then continued.
"Now. The third quota will be less daunting. You will still be required to take written exams, and to maintain a minimum score of eighty percent. Failure to do so will prevent you from participating in any expedition for one week, at which point you may retake the test and reclaim your qualification."
Ethan whispered, "Bro…"
"And lastly…" Thaddeus paused, letting the tension simmer, "This is not technically a quota, but a rule. You will not be permitted to leave campus grounds, except while on official expeditions. And even then, you will be heavily monitored at all times."
Seraphina lifted her hand once again.
"Yes?" Thaddeus nodded her way.
"Sir… Is that because someone is after us?"
For a heartbeat, silence went all trough the room, only for Thaddeus to throw his head back and laugh. A full, unapologetic, soul-shaking laugh.
"Of course that's the reason!" he boomed. "As I said, I detest sugarcoating. You are all being hunted. Some by jealous rivals. Some by political enemies. Some by zealots with twisted creeds. Some by good old-fashioned assassins." He shrugged lightly. "It's a competitive world out there. Hell, some of you might be targeted by the students from other classes."
Dragan muttered, "Pa super," under his breath.
"And many of you…" Thaddeus swept a hand over the room, "…Have been hunted long before you arrived here."
He continued, voice gaining weight. "You should be prepared to encounter organizations like the Sicarii, Children of God, and yes, even the infamous Six Great Sinners.".
"But worry not." Thaddeus placed one foot onto his desk, then the other, rising with such striking, dramatic confidence that it bordered on cringe. "For while you remain under my watch, no harm shall come upon you."
It was absurdly heroic, and it would have been cringe, if it wasn't coming from an Apostle.
Nephara clapped exactly once before realizing no one else had started yet.
To a normal observer, their reactions might've seemed strange and far too calm for teenagers being told entire international organizations wanted them dead. But Class Alpha was anything but normal. Ironically, the ones who looked the most shaken were the three who should have been the least surprised.
Damian looked like he'd swallowed poison, and was waiting if it would kill him.
Ben blinked rapidly behind his glasses, obviously stressed as hell.
And Enochia, the Rank 1, did not look impressed, not at all.
Make no mistake, there had been many attempts on her life. Dozens. Hundreds. Enough to fill a small archive labeled "creative failures." But none of them had ever come close to reaching her. Not a single blade, bullet, skill, or poisoned envelope had crossed the invisible boundary around her life.
Because she had lived under the roof of an Apostle. Not her brother. Someone slightly older, far stronger, and far more terrifyingly capable.
She never saw the assassins, and most of the time, she wasn't even told about them unless she overheard a passing comment like, "Ah yes, the seventh one this week. Persistent group of bastards."
So the danger had always been theoretical to her.
She had received messages, sure, horrible ones. She got them daily, sometimes by the hundreds, sometimes by the thousands, but none of those people ever appeared in front of her. Eventually, she learned to treat them as nothing more than pixels on a screen, as ugly words that vanished with a swipe of her thumb.
But she had never taken a human life before.
Even though, ironically, she had without question slain more demons than anyone her age. So the idea that humans might come after her personally, without that Apostle standing between them…
It didn't help that the rest of the class was giving them odd looks.
Because for all the normal rules Thaddeus had just stated, everyone in the room already knew something else:
Enochia and Damian had all clearly had access to Gates long before today. It wasn't said aloud, but the stares said enough.
Thaddeus saw the sudden heaviness settling over the room and cleared his throat.
"Ahem. Well then," he announced, clapping his hands. "You will learn many things here. Optimal stat allocation. When, how, and onto whom to cast your skills. How to properly utilize your passive effects instead of wasting them. Media management, Demonology, and of course, the revised New History curriculum, which I promise is not as boring as last year's."
A disbelieving groan rolled across the rows. "Yes, yes, complain later," Thaddeus waved dismissively. "Point is, that is all for today."
The class blinked, waiting for the catch.
"I will let you go five minutes early to roam around the school like civilized individuals, understood?"
A chorus of relieved "yes, sir's."
"You are encouraged to, what's the word… Ah yes, socialize. Make friends with each other. After exploring, head straight to your dorm building. It is the first building on the right side of the main entrance. You won't miss it, trust me."
Chairs scraped instantly. Thaddeus stepped aside and allowed a few sprinters to bolt past.
Damaris shot forward like a launched javelin, wanting to get away from Damian so fast she nearly tore the sound barrier. Nephara immediately sprinted after her, shouting something about "WHATS THE DAMN SKILL YO GO—!"
That alone triggered a domino effect as three more students bolted after them. Quickly, more and more people went out of the classroom.
But when Enochia approached the doorway, he extended a hand to block her. "Enochia. Stay."
Her steps halted instantly. For one millisecond, her eyes dimmed. She turned back toward her brother with a beautiful smile, though her jaw tightened like she wanted to crush the air between her teeth.
"…What is it? Did you not just tell me to go and make some socialization happen?" she asked.
The now empty classroom suddenly felt smaller as her brother's voice grew deeper and less charismatic, to the point one would barely recognize him.
"We need to talk."
"Hm? About what?" She looked at him, unimpressed. "I think that we went over everything that we needed to the day before, right?"
Thaddeus looked at her, not once changing his posture. "You know that isn't what I'm talking about. We talked about the 'act', but not about… Well you? How have you been for the last year? I heard Jo—"
He was cut off by Enochia "Please…" Her voice became a bit shaky, but she soon caught herself. "We don't have to act when no one is looking. You have no reason to care about me, and I have no reason to care about you."
Any thoughts that lingered in her mind cleared now, as she looked him dead in his starry eyes. "Will that be all, teacher?"
"Enochia, how can you say that, I am your older bro—"
"STOP!" Enochia cut him off again. "I told you that we don't have to act when we don't need to, Triboulet."
The older man looked to the side a bit, for the first time breaking that above all character of his. "I-I… You know that that wasn't my choice. I just want to make the best out of this situation, and I promised to not only him, but to every one of the Apostles that I would take his place."
"And that's exactly it! You want to know why I ignored you? Why I refused to talk to you? Why I didn't want you anywhere near me?" Her voice was spiraling now, each word hitting harder than the last. "It's because you're NOT my brother."
Her hands shook slightly. "My real brother died fighting a demonic prince, saving three other Apostles in the process, and millions of lives by extention. He died like the hero he was."
She swallowed, but the sob pushing up her throat twisted her next words. "And you—you have shown me nothing that proves you deserve to take his place." Her face twisted. "You only got where you are because of your convenient, disgraceful skills," she spat. "Only because of my brother's sacrifice—" her voice cracked so violently she had to swallow.
"Enochia…" The man said, unsure of what to do. He knew everything she said was true, but he also knew why he had to do this.
She stood there, shaking, and a few tears escaping her eyes, breathing like her ribs hurt.
Triboulet just stared at her, this shaking, furious, grieving girl who looked like she was trying to hold herself upright with hatred alone, and something in his expression crumpled behind the mask.
"Do you know what my parents told me?" She wiped her face viciously. "They told me that the Apostles had to look invincible. That the public image had to stay spotless. That if the world found out an Apostle died there would be panic, fear, uncertainty—"
Her voice twisted into something feral.
"—and that it would CUT THEIR FUCKING FUNDING."
Triboulet's breath hitched.
Enochia shook her head, staring at him like she couldn't believe he existed. "That's what my world was worth." she whispered, the anger collapsing under the weight of heartbreak. "Do you understand that? My brother's life… my family's grief… was worth less than their goddamn budget approval."
Her knees buckled for a second, and she caught herself on the nearest desk, but she didn't stop speaking… If anything, the words poured out faster now that the dam had burst.
"And you—you walked in and took everything. His name. His title. His spot in the Twelve. Even his damn wife. You stood where he stood. Wore what he wore. Smile like he smiled. And everyone acted like it was fine, like it was normal, like I should just ACCEPT IT!"
She looked at him like he was the embodiment of every wound she had never gotten.
And again, he couldn't say he blamed her for all of this hatred, but he wanted for her to realized that at least some of it was mispointed. But saying that to her couldn't come from him.
"Please…" she whispered, so weakly it barely sounded like her. "Just… get out…"
Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she heard the door close soon after, and for a long moment she didn't move. She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, smearing tears across her cheeks, and whispered, "Damn it… damn it, why…" her voice cracking.
"Why did you have to die…?" She slammed her fist weakly against the desk, then again harder, the sound booming through the empty room. For nearly a full minute, she did nothing but calm herself. As soon as she left the room, she knew that the 'act' had to continue, no matter how much she hated it.
Then, the door opened again and footsteps entered the room.
She turned slightly, saw him re-entering… and immediately looked away. She had nothing left to say to him.
He as well, said nothing, but he was approaching her too fast.
Her brows furrowed, confusion flickering across her face as she slowly turned to see what he was doing, only for a notification to snap into her vision.
–1200 HP
HP: 50 / 1,250
Her breath froze. A sharp, cold bloom of agony erupted in her chest. She looked down and saw Triboulet's arm, twisted into a long, curved blade, buried straight through her heart.
Blood poured from her lips in a thick, hot rush. Her eyes went wide, shocked at first, then burning with pure, murderous hatred.
Before her eyes, the mask on his face melted, skin stretching, bones rearranging with sickening cracks as the thing began shifting, shifting, shifting, its features contorting grotesquely until her brother's familiar silhouette warped into something horrifyingly close to her.
Her own eyes. Her own hair. Her own jawline twisting into a wide, unhinged smile.
The thing laughed, high-pitched, broken, too delighted for the moment. "Ohhh… easier than I thought. All I had to do was quickly scan and take the appearance of that hotshot, and all the doors of this place are open to me." it hissed through a voice that tried to mimic hers and failed. "Oh, when they find their golden goose dead in her own classroom… oh, the panic… oh, the tears… all those little babies will drop out like flies, won't they… I'll take and store your look as well, it might prove useful to kill that bastard as well."
Its face kept shifting toward hers, the resemblance growing more accurate with every passing second, features smoothening, voice stabilizing into something disturbingly close to her exact tone.
"Such a fragile little thing. Oh, this is adorable."
Enochia's vision blurred but her rage kept her upright. Her hand trembled violently as she lifted it, light gathering instantly around her palm.
She didn't care if she died.
She didn't care if the classroom exploded.
She didn't care if her body couldn't withstand the spell.
If there was one thing she hated more than that delusional clown Triboulet, it was demons.
The monsters that destroyed her world.
The monsters that killed her brother.
The monsters that took everything.
And killing demons?
That was the one thing she had always done flawlessly.
"Die…" she whispered, blood dripping from her chin.
Greater Magic: [RADIANT LANCE]
A massive spear of pure, concentrated light erupted from her hand, so bright it swallowed the classroom in white fire. The blast detonated instantly, a violent, concussive explosion that hurled desks into walls, shattered every window, ripped the door off its hinges, and tore the front half of the room apart.
The thing screaming inside the blast didn't sound human.
It didn't even sound alive.