The next morning, after washing up in the plain bathroom on the first floor of the dormitory, Rick returned to his room to get ready for the entrance ceremony for first-year students. When he entered, Kian and Leze were already dressed. Rome, on the other hand, had left early, probably rushing toward the auditorium long before anyone else.
Rick opened his cabinet and carefully took out his new uniform. By the time he finished dressing, Leze and Kian had already stepped out of the room. Rick looked at his attire—clean white fabric with golden buttons, the academy's signature design for first-year students. A black crest rested on his chest, connected by a leash-like cord from the shoulder to the pocket, symbolizing his status as a newcomer.
After getting ready, Rick also left for the auditorium where the entrance ceremony was being held. As he walked through the main building, he couldn't help admiring its majestic architecture—the large pillars, polished floors, and wide halls that echoed with the footsteps of generations of students.
Soon he reached the grand auditorium. It was enormous, with rows of seats rising upward and a wide stage at the center. Rick also noticed a separate seating area elevated slightly above the rest—students sitting there were upperclassmen, all observing the incoming first years. They were not here for courtesy—they were here to find interesting individuals worth recruiting.
At first glance, outsiders believed the academy was all about studies, exams, and discipline. But inside these walls, every student aimed to build connections and secure their future.
If a student managed to graduate from the D-Rank Class, there was a high possibility of becoming a knight in the kingdom. Not guaranteed—but possible. Only the truly exceptional survived long enough to grasp such a chance.
It was extremely difficult for lower-ranked students to stay in the academy. Even high-ranking students could be expelled if they performed poorly. The pressure was immense. The total number of fourth-years was only around fourty, and there was only one student in the D-Rank Class of fourth year.
That was why most upperclassmen desperately looked for promising newcomers. Some wanted potential allies; others wanted future knights under their influence.
On the other hand, common-class students tried their best simply to survive—struggling every day to avoid expulsion and hoping to improve their rank. That was how the academy worked, and that was the real reason upperclassmen were present at the entrance ceremony of first-year students.
Rick arrived late to the ceremony, and because of that, he ended up with the very last seat in the back row. He glanced around at the other students scattered here and there, taking in their nervous excitement. Suddenly, a clear voice echoed from the stage:
"Silence, everyone. We will now begin the entrance ceremony for the first-year students."
The instructor's words drew every eye toward the stage. He stepped forward, marking the official start of the ceremony. The entrance event opened with the introduction of each class's faculty teacher, followed by a detailed explanation of the academy's rules and regulations. The speech was long—nearly forty minutes—ending with the instructor clearing his throat as he addressed them again.
"Now," he said, "we will announce the top three students who passed the exam."
A wave of confusion rippled through the new students. Weren't they told that the individual ranking wasn't ready yet? Sensing the students' reactions, the instructor clarified:
"The individual ranking is based on points. You receive points not only through the exam but also through the evaluation of the instructors present during the test. Your behavior, judgment, capability, and thinking—all of these are recorded and scored.
However, the top three students are chosen based solely on exam results."
With that explanation settled, the instructor began announcing the names.
"Ranked third in the overall exam—Brian Ruster!"
A boy rose from among the students and walked toward the stage amid scattered applause. Once Brian stood in line, the instructor continued:
"Ranked second—Willy Van Melroy!"
Another one stepped up, earning louder applause this time.
"And now," the instructor said, pausing for effect, "the top-ranked student—the one who placed first in the overall exam—Soul Von Vistoria!"
The hall erupted with cheers as the top-ranked student walked confidently to the stage. And just like that, the top three stood together before the crowd while the rest of the students clapped and cheered for them.
Now came the part everyone had been waiting for.
"Next, the headmaster of our Royal National Magic Academy—the Eighth-Circle Mage, Nuel Van Adrick—will come forward to award the badges to the top three students," the instructor announced.
A wave of silence swept across the auditorium. Every student froze, breath held, as the realization hit them—they were about to witness one of the two Eight-Circle Magicians in the entire Asther Kingdom. Excitement buzzed in the air. Some students trembled, others whispered in awe.
Rick's heart thumped with anticipation.
But contrary to everyone's expectations, the headmaster didn't appear with a dramatic entrance, nor with a grand flash of magic. Instead, he simply walked onstage, waving calmly as if he were an ordinary citizen attending a normal event.
The entire auditorium went stiff.
No explosion of light.
No overwhelming magical pressure.
Just a relaxed man with an easy smile.
No one knew how to react.
Rick, still confused but fascinated, watched as the headmaster casually handed the badges to the top-ranked students. After Nuel's short speech, the ceremony drew to a close. The students began filing out, murmuring in disappointment. Many had expected some overwhelming display of power—or at least something special from an Eighth-Circle mage.
Even Rick felt a sting of letdown.
After the entrance ceremony, Rick and the other students trudged toward their classrooms, expecting dusty, old rooms filled with worn-out desks like in ordinary schools.
Instead, they entered a room that was unexpectedly pristine—clean, bright, and organized.
Each desk felt polished and new.
Even the blackboard gleamed.
"No way… this is for D-Rank?" a student muttered in disbelief.
Rick scanned the rows. Every other student quickly took their seats. He considered sitting near his roommates, hoping to build a connection with them, but the memory of Rome's attitude made him hesitate. He sighed and slipped into an empty third-row seat beside a couple of quiet students chatting among themselves.
Moments later, the classroom door slid open.
A woman stepped inside—poised, elegant, and carrying an aura of calm intelligence.
"Hello, students," she said with a warm smile.
"My name is Elly, your geography teacher."
Her voice carried gentle authority across the room, and the class immediately fell silent.
And just like that, the class officially began.
The first session was relaxed—almost too relaxed. Instead of teaching, the instructor simply asked for their names and shared basic information about the academy. Rick wasn't surprised; the instructors had already mentioned that the first three days would be introductory, meant to help students adjust to the academy and determine which class matched their talents.
Most of the time was spent with the students introducing themselves and chatting. Then a hand shot up from the back.
"Mam'm, why is the classroom so clean and well-maintained? Isn't this the D-Rank class?"
The instructor's lips curled into a soft chuckle.
"I see you're surprised," she said. "The academy values talent—and for that, we provide a unified environment for all new students. Whether it's study materials or classrooms, everything is same for everyone."
She paused, letting the words settle.
"You might be wondering, then—what separates the ranks? Simple. Quality. In higher-ranked classes, the equipment, instructors, dormitories, and every resource you receive will be better than the lower ranks. And if you want access to those benefits… you'll have to earn them."
The room went quiet. Even Rick felt a tiny spark of determination ignite.
The instructor spent the rest of the period explaining the academy's structure, rules, and daily expectations. Soon the session ended, followed by another introductory class, and before long, the bell rang for lunch.
Every student hurried toward the academy's massive lunch hall, eager to receive their first meal. Food at the academy was free, though there were options for those who wished to pay. Rick, having no coins to spare, opted for the standard meal: two slices of bread, a bowl of soup, and a few vegetables. It wasn't luxurious, but it was warm and decent.
With his tray in hand, Rick scanned the bustling hall, hoping to find an empty seat where no one would disturb him. But he quickly noticed something unsettling—everyone was avoiding him.
Whispers followed him wherever he walked. Students shifted away. Some pretended not to see him. It was the same cold atmosphere he had felt since entering the academy gates.
But Rick didn't let it bother him.
After all, he had survived worse.
He simply exhaled, tightened his grip on the tray, and continued searching for a seat—alone, but unshaken.
Rick was still searching for a seat when he finally noticed someone who, like him, was being ignored by everyone else. To his surprise, it was the same boy who had jumped with him at the academy gates earlier that day.
"Fancy meeting you here," Rick said placing his tray on the table.
The boy frowned. "What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you not to talk to me?"
Rick blinked, then grinned as if boy's irritation didn't affect him at all. "Now, now, don't be mad. Aren't you glad someone is at least willing to talk to you?"
The boy bit into his bread, unimpressed. "And whose fault is it that I'm being ignored? Other students think I am some kind of weirdo."
Rick pouted dramatically. "Hey, don't be like that. It's not like I forced you."
The boy didn't answer. He focused on his food instead.
"It's good. " Rick said while drinking the soup.
"Whatever. I'm done," the boy said bluntly. He stood up and left the table.
Rick sighed but didn't follow.
After lunch came the physical trial sessions—crucial classes meant to help students decide which coursea they would commit to within the next three days.
Rick attended every single one.
They were introductory courses, mostly basic training and explanations of the benefits, strengths, and dangers of each path. Rick listened carefully to all of them, absorbing every detail.
By the time the day ended, he felt exhausted but strangely satisfied.
And just like that, Rick's first day at the academy came to an end—without a single real problem.
Though he could feel that the challenges ahead would only grow harder.