Rolin walked toward the gate.
Before him stretched a vast white plaza, its surface carved with ancient and unsettling engravings. The stone was smooth yet scarred by time, every line etched with a story that refused to fade.
One carving showed a lone warrior standing against dozens of winged humanoid creatures. Their bodies resembled humans, yet their wings were jagged and monstrous. Each held a weapon forged from pure light, descending upon the solitary man like a storm.
Another carving captured a far more tragic scene.
A woman stared at a man before her with eyes filled with despair and quiet acceptance. The man trembled as he raised a sword engulfed in flames. Tears streamed down his face while the burning blade hovered at her throat.
It was not a battle.
It was an execution.
Many more scenes covered the plaza—wars, monsters, kings, sacrifices—fragments of a forgotten age engraved into the white stone like memories the world refused to erase.
And at the center of it all…
stood the gate.
A colossal black gate.
Its towering frame shattered the purity of the white plaza like a wound carved into the world itself. The surface of the gate was not smooth stone but something darker—something that seemed to swallow the surrounding light.
Ancient runes and twisting symbols covered its surface, layered upon one another in patterns that no modern scholar could fully decipher. They glowed faintly, pulsing like the slow heartbeat of a sleeping giant.
From the seams of the gate leaked streams of ethereal light—colors that did not belong to the natural world. Violet, silver, pale blue, and deep crimson drifted through the air like mist, beautiful and hypnotic… yet carrying a silent promise of danger.
The air around it felt heavier.
As if the world itself was holding its breath.
At that moment, the first rays of sunlight appeared on the distant horizon.
Golden light slowly spilled across the sky.
A new morning had begun.
Perhaps the last morning some of them would ever see.
Rolin stepped into the plaza.
Everyone was already there.
Kyle.
Selen.
Aileen.
And the rest of the academy's students.
Nearly two hundred of them stood gathered across the vast courtyard. From afar they looked like a restless swarm of ants, crowding around something far larger and far more dangerous than themselves.
Rolin scanned the crowd.
Kyle was impossible to miss.
He stood near the front, wearing gleaming white armor layered over black leather. He had abandoned the helmet entirely, letting his glossy black hair catch the rising sunlight.
His calm blue eyes carried the same relaxed confidence as always.
A long sword rested across his back, its hilt rising above his shoulder.
He looked less like a student…
and more like a hero who had accidentally walked out of a legend.
Rolin clicked his tongue inwardly.
Damn it…
How does this guy always manage to look like the main character?
We're literally standing in front of a death gate and he still looks cool.
His gaze shifted.
Selen stood a short distance away.
Her sandy short hair was tied back, revealing her sharp and lively features. She wore light armor—shoulder guards, elbow guards, chest armor, thigh plates, and boots—all colored in black and deep crimson.
Underneath it all was fitted white leather clothing that emphasized both mobility and elegance.
The color contrast made her stand out immediately among the crowd.
Inside Rolin's mind, Likath whistled slowly.
Oh ho…
That girl is dangerous.
Rolin ignored him.
Likath continued anyway.
Beautiful too.
You know, the troublesome ones are always the prettiest.
It's like a curse of the world.
Rolin's eye twitched slightly.
Shut up.
You say that about every woman.
Wrong.
Likath replied lazily.
Some of them are just troublesome.
Finally, Rolin turned his attention to Aileen.
Her chestnut hair fell gently over a thick blue coat that protected her from the morning chill. Unlike the others, she wore no armor.
Just simple clothes.
A shirt, a skirt, long stockings hidden beneath the fabric, and practical boots suited for travel rather than battle.
She looked more like a normal girl standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Yet strangely…
she also looked calmer than most of the armored students around her.
As the rising sunlight bathed the plaza in gold, the enormous black gate loomed silently behind them.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
Strange… those clothes must be artifacts.
If they really were artifacts, that meant only one thing.
She came from an extremely wealthy family.
Artifacts were absurdly expensive. Not because of luxury—but because of rarity. Most of them were relics from ancient eras, impossible to reproduce with modern magic. Even a minor artifact could cost more than what an ordinary family would earn in a lifetime.
Rolin narrowed his eyes slightly.
Then another student caught his attention.
The man stood not far from the others.
He was tall—taller than most in the plaza. His long reddish-brown hair fell loosely over his shoulders, contrasting against his pale skin. His dark eyes were calm and heavy, carrying a quiet intensity.
Broad shoulders.
A well-built frame.
Yet his clothing was strangely simple.
A black shirt beneath a clean white jacket, black trousers, polished boots… and two swords hanging at his sides.
Twin blades.
Rolin studied him for a moment.
Those have to be artifacts.
Likath's voice sounded inside his mind.
Huh…
I've never seen him before.
Do you know him?
No.
Rolin answered quietly.
That alone was strange.
Someone like that should have been famous in the academy. Handsome, confident, clearly wealthy… students like him usually attracted attention like flames attracted moths.
Yet Rolin had never heard his name.
Never seen him.
Not once.
Something about him feels wrong…
Rolin eventually looked away.
He deliberately stood a little apart from the others.
Hidden among the edges of the gathering.
Inside his bag rested the chains and daggers.
Along with many other things.
Paper.
Ink pens.
Food.
Spices.
Water.
Blankets.
Covers.
Pillows.
A thick winter blanket.
And countless small tools and supplies.
All stored inside his bottomless bag.
A bag that could hold far more than it should.
From what he could see, no one else had prepared like this.
Not a single student carried supplies.
Just weapons.
Armor.
Confidence.
Of course…
there were two exceptions.
Rolin.
And Aileen.
His gaze drifted toward her again.
She carried a bag too.
A small one.
It looked similar to Rolin's bag—though much more modest in appearance.
Still…
Rolin couldn't tell how large its internal space might be.
Interesting.
Rolin paused for a moment.
He took a slow breath as his eyes wandered across the crowd again.
The feeling was strange.
Almost unsettling.
Everyone stood ready with weapons and armor. Faces tense, determined, excited… or afraid.
All of them were prepared to step through the gate.
Prepared for whatever waited beyond it.
Yet standing slightly apart from them all…
Rolin felt a quiet sense of distance.
As if he didn't truly belong among them.
But him?
He wasn't like them.
Everything he might need was already with him—every tool for survival, carefully packed inside his bottomless bag.
Chains.
Daggers.
Blankets.
Food.
Water.
A thick winter cover.
Survival tools.
Even paper and pens.
Everything.
Likath's voice echoed lazily in his mind.
The others are ignorant…
That's good for us.
A faint smile touched Rolin's lips.
His mind was already calculating.
Planning.
Preparing.
His gaze drifted back to Aileen.
Her bag was small—but at least she had one. In this sea of armored students, that alone showed more foresight than most.
Then Kyle passed beside him.
Radiant as always in his shining white armor, the long sword resting across his back like a symbol of some heroic prophecy.
Rolin muttered under his breath.
"Damn it… how is he always this perfect?"
Selen moved beside Kyle, her black and crimson armor reflecting the morning light.
Likath spoke again, his tone full of amusement.
Beauty terrorists everywhere…
The troublesome ones are always the gorgeous ones.
Rolin ignored him.
He stepped forward quietly.
Carefully.
Everything had to be ready.
Everything had to be within reach.
Because whatever waited beyond that gate…
would not resemble any training they had ever experienced.
He cast one final glance at the crowd.
Two hundred students.
Weapons gleaming.
Armor polished.
Faces tense.
Then he looked at the gate.
Sunlight began to spill over the horizon, painting the metal and leather with a strange orange glow.
Silence fell.
Everyone stopped moving.
Excitement and dread mixed in the air like a storm about to break.
Their first expedition…
was about to begin.
Then suddenly—
Ethereal light burst from the edges of the gate.
It spiraled outward like liquid energy, circling the massive frame again and again until the entire gateway filled with a breathtaking violet glow.
The gate…
had opened.
The crowd began to move.
Students stepped forward hesitantly, many clinging to one another as they approached the swirling light.
Fear was written clearly across their faces.
Everyone understood the truth.
From this crowd…
only a few would return.
Rolin let out a quiet sigh.
Kyle stepped beside him.
"My brother," Kyle said with a grin. "Let's find each other inside… then we leave together, alright?"
"Of course."
Kyle nodded, smiled once more—
and stepped into the portal.
His figure vanished instantly.
For a moment, Rolin felt a small knot tighten in his chest.
He hated Kyle's ridiculous charm.
His perfect appearance.
His heroic attitude.
But…
Kyle was still his only friend in that academic hell.
What would happen now?
Would Rolin survive?
Or would he simply disappear like countless others before him?
Everyone here could use magic.
Mana.
But Rolin…
could not.
He had lost his mana core.
And he had no desire to remember how it happened.
That was the real reason he never enrolled in the magic classes.
Selen stepped forward next.
Her crimson-black armor flickered in the violet light as she walked into the gate.
Then she was gone—
like a fading star on the edge of the sky.
Rolin watched silently.
Then he saw Aileen.
She approached the portal with calm steps.
For some reason, Rolin felt a small pang in his chest as she disappeared into the swirling light.
She wasn't exactly his friend.
But she had shared two classes with him.
And helped him a few times.
In a place like this…
that was already more kindness than most people offered.
Likath suddenly spoke again.
Come on.
I'm excited.
Move, you sack of meat.
Rolin began to sweat slightly.
One student after another entered the gate.
Until finally…
the last student stepped through.
Silence returned.
No one remained.
Except him.
Rolin exhaled slowly.
Then he walked forward.
He stopped in front of the gate.
Maybe he wouldn't return.
Or maybe…
he would come back as a First-Rank Adventurer, and his entire life would change.
Likath chuckled softly.
Whatever happens…
Just survive.
Rolin narrowed his eyes.
I will.
No matter what.
He stepped forward—
and vanished into the gate.
Heading straight…
toward hell.