The second Adrien stepped inside the Imperial Academy, things shifted.
Not outwardly. Not in the buildings or air.
In the inhabitants.
Their stance. The manner in which they looked sideways at one another while feigning indifference. Some observed everything. Others seemed to have already made up their minds about who didn't count.
"Name?" said a sharp voice by the entrance hall.
Adrien turned. A man with violet robes behind a blackwood podium stood there. Sharp face. Tired eyes. Uninterested eyes.
"Adrien Vale," he said.
The man raised an eyebrow.
"Ah. Copper-tier. Lightning. No spell formations. No duel registry."
'How is everyone here so good at making me sound like a disappointment?'
The man snapped his fingers. "Room 218. North dormitory tower. Orientation in one hour. Magical evaluation in two."
"Got it."
"Try not to be late."
The man didn't say it cruelly — just the way you'd tell someone to stop breathing less loudly.
The dorm corridor was cooler than the entrance way. More narrow, as well. Smooth stone walls shimmered with soft runs of enchantment lines that flickered every few seconds, coordinating with the Academy's central mana grid.
Adrien reached his door.
Room 218.
A bronze sigil ticked as he drew near, sensing his mana signature from the moment he'd set foot on Academy property. The door opened silently.
It was… adequate.
A bed, a wardrobe, a desk inscribed with mana, a gilded mirror, and a small balcony looking out over the east courtyard. A second door opened to a small washroom. His new uniform — navy and silver, crisp and creased — was already laid out on the bed.
Plain. Effective.
Unoccupied.
'Home, I suppose.'
He put his case down.
Then, without sitting, strode over to the desk.
A piece of parchment awaited:
Evaluation Notice – First Year Cadets
All students are to report to the Arcanum Chamber (Hall B) at the second bell.
Failure to attend will be noted in House records.
— Instructor Veyr
[No pressure. Just your future hanging in the balance. No big deal.]
'I've been in this world three days. Of course they're testing me already.'
[They test babies in this world. You're late.]
⟢ Two Hours Later ⟣
The Arcanum Chamber was part arena, part library. A massive circular room with a shimmering platform in the center and arched rows of bookshelves on the outer circle. Gentle chanting sounded from runes in the ceiling.
There were approximately thirty students waiting in line, wearing their new uniforms, not quite looking as nervous as they were.
They wore magical rings or family marks on their chests. Others sported serene, faraway eyes — the sort that had already witnessed magic used to win, lose, or kill.
Adrien held his head down.
Not because he was ashamed, but calculating.
The system, in its unhelpful nature, was humming a melody called "Imminent Public Failure."
"Next. Adrien Vale."
He walked forward onto the luminous platform.
Four trainers sat around it, clipboards in hand, surrounded by suspended crystals.
"Put your hand on the center rune," one of them instructed. "Do not fight the pull."
Adrien obeyed.
As soon as his fingers landed on the etched circle, warmth exploded in his chest — a soft throb from center to perimeter. It didn't hurt, but it was intrusive, as if someone probing his mind.
The crystals began to glow.
Blue. Then flashes of silver.
And finally — white.
The instructor raised an eyebrow. "Copper-tier. Mid rank. Mana capacity: 210. Lightning affinity confirmed."
Another instructor muttered, "No channels yet formed. No external spellwork. Core still unstable."
Adrien spoke up, voice calm. "I've been training on my own."
A long silence.
Then one of the instructors — a woman with dark gloves and sharp golden eyes—gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
"Then keep training. Harder."
'.Noted.'
[Don't embarrass yourself.' Teachers here are highly inspirational.]
They waved him on.
He descended and made his way back to the edge of the room, fingers still buzzing with the power.
The next name was announced.
He saw others assume the podium — some radiating brighter, some setting off alarms, some obviously comfortable in the spotlight.
Adrien didn't overshadow anyone.
But he also didn't fall apart.
'That's a start.
Later, on the balcony of his dorm, Adrien stood with the wind rustling through his hair.
He still had no allies. No standing. No scheme other than staying alive long enough to count.
But now?
He had ground.
And that was sufficient.
For now.