The sun had already climbed high by the time the second-year students of Class 2A settled into their seats. The room smelled faintly of chalk dust and old parchment. Students shuffled about, some eager, others already slouching in their chairs, their expressions betraying how they felt about the first lecture of the term.
At the front, Professor Halden cleared his throat and adjusted his spectacles. "Now," he began, his voice deep but carrying a steady rhythm, "we return once more to the history of Zhero Ryth Kingdom."
A groan echoed faintly from the back. "Didn't we already go over this in first year?" someone muttered. A few chuckles followed, but Halden ignored them.
Wads, seated by the window, rested his chin against his palm. For him, it was far from boring—he had longed to understand the history of this world since the day he arrived in it. Knowledge here was treasure, and he wasn't about to let it slip.
Across the room, in the far corner, Klyden was already half-asleep, his cheek pressed lazily against his folded arms. His chest rose and fell steadily, not even trying to hide it. Wads only shook his head faintly before fixing his gaze back on the professor.
"The ancient conflict," Halden continued, "was not simply a clash of mortals. The Empress of the Unknown and her adversary, Abaddōn, descended and interfered with the mortal realm. Their powers, clashing in ways the world had never seen, brought destruction on a scale impossible for men to imagine. In the aftermath, the natural order fractured. Animals and creatures twisted, some evolving into uncontrollable beasts that now stalk humanity."
A murmur spread among the students. One raised their hand. "But, Professor… why do some creatures transform and others remain normal?"
Halden clasped his hands behind his back. "The truth is uncertain. Some scholars believe the residue of divine power lingers in the air, choosing its vessels at random. Others claim it reflects the soul itself—those tainted by greed or wrath are more prone to transformation. And then…" he smiled faintly, "some are simply unfortunate."
He walked to the board and wrote deliberately: The Weight of Power Is Never Evenly Shared.
Wads tapped his finger thoughtfully on his desk, lips pursed.
Another student raised their hand. "Professor, then what about magic? Why are there more than four kinds now?"
"An excellent question," Halden said. "At its root, magic was once limited to the four natural elements—earth, fire, water, and wind. But when the Empress blessed humanity, her divine essence altered those foundations. Her blessing fractured the purity of the elements, birthing rarer affinities. Some bloodlines carried them, others simply… awakened one day. It is said that those with advanced attributes were touched more strongly by her will."
"And what about deity powers?" another asked. "Why do some people lose them when they grow older?"
"That," Halden replied, "is because deity powers are not inherited gifts. They are borrowed flames. A deity's blessing may linger in a soul for a season, a year, or perhaps decades. But when that soul no longer aligns with the deity's will… the flame extinguishes. Only a chosen few keep it, bound until death."
That caught Wads' attention. So that explains why the elders back in my town never used any magic, he thought. I used to believe this world was plain… but the older I grew, the stranger it became.
Another hand shot up. "Then how do we stop the creatures from evolving?"
Halden tilted his head. "Tell me—do you believe the ancient records? That peace will only be restored once the Empress and Abaddōn's battle is finally resolved?"
The class fell quiet.
One girl muttered, "That could take centuries."
A boy beside her scoffed. "Or never."
Halden only smiled faintly. "Then let us return to the question: how do we stop them? Perhaps the answer is not in slaying beasts, but in ending the war that began it all."
Another voice asked, "But how would we know who the chosen ones are?"
This time, Halden's smile deepened. "Time will tell. And when the moment comes, everything will align. Until then… we prepare."
The room buzzed with murmurs—some skeptical, others hopeful.
Wads, however, frowned. So what—you're telling me humanity may suffer for another thousand years until 'time aligns'? How laughable. He leaned back, tilting his head slightly, though his brows remained drawn together.
The lecture droned on until finally, Reiyell slipped a folded piece of paper across Wads' desk.
He opened it discreetly.
Bored?
Wads smirked faintly, grabbed his pencil, and scribbled back:
A bit.
He slid it back, eyes still forward.
Soon after, the paper returned. QnA?
"About?" he scribbled.
General knowledge.
A small laugh escaped Wads' lips. He wrote back: Have mercy on me, Your Highness.
He heard the faintest chuckle from Reiyell beside him. Then, their quiet game began.
Reiyell > Wads:
What year did the Empress first descend to the mortal realm?
Wads: Year 312 of the First Calendar.
Reiyell (scribbling): Correct.
Wads > Reiyell:
"What fruit is said to grant temporary magical amplification when eaten raw?"
Reiyell (rolling her eyes): "Silverthorn berry. Poisonous if you take too many."
Reiyell > Wads:
"What's the symbol carved on the Empress of the Unknown's crown?"
Wads: "A spiral eclipse. Don't insult me."
Wads > Reiyell:
"Which beast did the twin generals slay during the Siege of Asterra?"
Reiyell: "The three-headed Seraphound."
Reiyell > Wads:
"Which element was said to be Abaddōn's original dominion?"
Wads: Darkness?
Reiyell: No. Decay.
Reiyell > Wads:
"How many divine beasts are recorded in the Lexicon?"
Wads: "Six. Three confirmed dead. Three unaccounted for."
Wads > Reiyell:
"Who was the only Academy student to ever outmatch a Diety in a duel?"
Reiyell (pensively): "Arthur West Normapadre… vanished after graduation."
Reiyell > Wads:
"What does the name of the academy mean?"
Wads paused. Then wrote: "Light That Remains."
She smiled faintly. "Correct."
Wads > Reiyell (last one):
"What is my least favorite subject?"
Reiyell stared at it for a moment, then wrote, "None. You'd rather suffer boredom than admit weakness."
The professor's dismissal bell finally rang, echoing through the hall. Students groaned, stretched, and gathered their things, chatter rising like a tide.
Wads noticed Reiyell carefully stacking her books, her movements precise. He asked quietly, "Your brother… he's left the Academy already, right?"
"Yes," she replied without glancing at him.
"Who's the current president of Zao now?"
"Kaizer."
"Urgh." Wads' lips curled, remembering the man. From vice president to president. Of course it would be him.
Before he could say more, someone called for Reiyell. She gave Wads a brief nod. "Excuse me." Then she walked away, her posture straight and calm.
Wads' eyes followed her for a moment, before shifting to the side where Liora was trying to shake Klyden awake.
"Get up already," Liora teased, tugging at his sleeve.
Klyden yawned, stretching lazily. "What? Class is over. Mission accomplished."
"You didn't even listen to a single word!" Liora laughed.
"Why listen when I already know the outcome?" Klyden grinned. "History doesn't change."
Liora rolled her eyes, giggling. "Spoken like a true genius of sleeping."
Wads smirked faintly at their antics, but before he could leave, Keiya's voice cut in sharply.
"The audacity of you," Keiya said, arms crossed, "to laugh about history when you spent the whole class drooling on your desk."
"I didn't drool," Klyden shot back, mock-offended. "Besides, I'm saving energy. A tactical advantage."
Keiya's eye twitched. "Tactical…? You're impossible."
"Impossible, but charming," Klyden said with a grin, pointing at himself.
Keiya exhaled slowly, glaring. "You're lucky I don't smack you right here."
Liora laughed harder, covering her mouth. "He might actually believe it's a compliment."
Wads gathered his books quietly, a faint drowsiness settling over him. He didn't feel like joining the chatter. Instead, he slung his bag over his shoulder and started for the door. A nap in the dorm sounded far better than enduring Klyden's nonsense.