It didn't take long for the academy to start feeling overwhelming.
The campus was huge. Bigger than any school Grey had ever seen, with clean glass walkways connecting one building to another, and patches of floating stone platforms serving as shortcuts for the more magically gifted students. Enchantment panels glowed from the walls, displaying real-time announcements in mid-air: class schedules, mana safety warnings, Hunter rankings.
Everything looked like it had been pulled straight from a sci-fi fantasy dream.
And Grey, as much as he tried to keep a level head, couldn't help but be a little in awe.
He had just stepped out of the orientation courtyard when he heard it.
"GREY!"
The voice cracked through the noise like a spell misfire, followed by the unmistakable sound of hurried footsteps on pavement. He turned just in time to see a familiar figure barreling toward him, uniform half-tucked, bag swinging wildly over one shoulder.
"Leon," Grey said, smiling despite himself. "Still allergic to being on time?"
Leon Virell came to a dramatic stop in front of him, bending over slightly to catch his breath, hair sticking out in five different directions. "Not late. Just… operating on alternate scheduling."
"That's what you said last time we missed the bus and had to walk two kilometers."
"Character-building," Leon said, straightening with a grin. "And anyway, I made it, didn't I?"
Grey shook his head. "Barely."
The two fell into step naturally, like they'd never spent time apart. Grey had known Leon since childhood—back when the world was smaller and the biggest danger they faced was falling out of trees or accidentally casting spark spells in the backyard. Leon was the kind of guy who turned every situation into something worth laughing about, even when things were serious. Especially when things were serious.
"Still can't believe we both got into Manilly," Leon said as they walked through the hallway. "Top-tier Hunter school, baby. We're living the dream."
Grey looked around at the sea of students moving in the same direction—some chatting, some walking alone, others already radiating quiet confidence. Mana lingered in the air like humidity, subtle but ever-present. There was an energy here he couldn't explain.
"Feels different," Grey said. "Like… something's about to begin."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "That's because something is beginning. You know, school?"
"I meant something bigger."
"You and your dramatic inner voice. You should write books."
Grey chuckled. "Maybe someday."
They passed a few students practicing mana control in the open atrium near the stairs—light spells dancing between their fingers, a few basic barriers flickering into shape. Grey watched with curiosity, wondering how long it would take him to catch up. He hadn't trained formally before now. Most of his magic use had been clumsy and instinctual.
Still, he wasn't worried. He had time. This was just the beginning.
As they rounded the final corner toward their wing, a quiet murmur rolled through the crowd. Subtle at first, then spreading like ripples through a pond. Students shifted. Conversations paused. Eyes turned.
Grey followed his gaze.
She stood by the windows near the classroom entrance—tall, poised, effortlessly composed. Her uniform fit perfectly, her long platinum hair catching the sunlight through the glass. But it wasn't just her looks. There was something about the way she stood, like she wasn't just another student, but someone the room revolved around without question.
"Emily Arclight," someone whispered nearby. "That's her."
"I heard she is strong enough to kill black iron monster."
"They say she's from the Arclight clan. Gold-ranked. Her mother led the expedition into the Crimson Rift last year."
Grey didn't need to hear the rumors to understand her presence. He could feel it.
Emily didn't glow or summon fire or do anything flashy—but somehow, she drew attention all the same. It wasn't loud. It was quiet power. Composure. Like she already knew where she was going, and everyone else was still figuring it out.
Leon let out a low whistle. "She's going to be the queen of this school by lunchtime."
"Assuming she hasn't already claimed the throne," Grey said, eyes lingering for only a moment longer before moving on.
"You're not going to stare a little longer?" Leon teased. "You're usually the reserved type, but even you have to admit—"
"She's not a painting," Grey said dryly. "She's a person."
"Spoken like a main character in denial," Leon grinned.
Grey rolled his eyes. "Come on. We're going to be late for homeroom."
The crowd around the door began to thin as students filed into Classroom 1-A. Above the entrance, a glowing panel displayed seat assignments. Grey leaned in and found his name.
Grey Allard – Seat 12
Leon Virell – Seat 13
He smirked. "Looks like you're stuck with me again."
Leon threw an arm around his shoulder. "Fate knows how to treat me right."
They entered the classroom together. The desks were arranged in a wide arc, each one with its own mana interface and projector. The seats weren't just furniture—they were training tools, designed to sync with each student's energy and track performance. Screens flickered to life as students took their places.
Grey slid into his seat, setting his bag down and letting his fingers trail across the surface of the desk. It buzzed softly, recognizing him, adjusting to his mana signature.
Around them, students whispered, settled in, or stared at the front board where a digital clock counted down to the beginning of class.
Leon leaned toward him, voice low. "So. Day one. Are we going to keep our heads down or make a splash?"
Grey smiled faintly. "Let's just not drown."
Leon grinned. "Deal."
As the final seconds ticked away and the classroom lights dimmed slightly, Grey sat back and took a quiet breath.
This was it.
Not just school.
Not just another beginning.
This was the life he'd waited for.
The second chance he'd been given.
And whatever it brought, he was ready.