"Status window… open."
I waited.
Nothing happened.
"…Open?"
Silence.
A vein twitched on my forehead.
"Don't tell me I got scammed after transmigrating," I muttered under my breath.
I waited a few more seconds, staring blankly into empty air. No dramatic light. No divine voice. No floating menu. Just the quiet murmur of students shifting in the Grand Hall and the lingering heaviness of the pressure test still clinging to the atmosphere.
Just as irritation began creeping in—
❖ DING ❖
A sharp, crystalline sound rang directly inside my head.
A translucent blue screen materialized before my eyes, hovering silently in midair.
It didn't glow obnoxiously or bombard me with excessive animations. Instead, it was disturbingly minimal—clean lines, sharp monochrome text, perfectly aligned borders. The interface felt… cold. Clinical. Like it wasn't designed to please the user, but to observe them.
Something about that made my skin prickle.
My breath hitched.
"So… it really does exist."
The screen adjusted itself slightly, as if calibrating to my vision.
[ STATUS WINDOW ]
[Name: Alden]
[Race: Human]
[Age: 17]
[Rank: E+]
[Bloodline: Dormant (ERROR)]
[Strength: 12 ]
[Agility: 13]
[Endurance:9]
[Intelligence: 41 / 100]
[Mana: 0 / ???]
[Luck: SSS+]
[Mental Stability: 63%]
[Condition:
• Severe Malnutrition
• Soul Fusion (Incomplete)
• Dimensional Residue Detected]
[Titles: None]
[Skills:
• ???
• ???]
[System Note:
⚠ Subject classified as an Unidentified Variable]
I stared at the screen.
Not blinking.
Not breathing.
"…What the hell is this?"
The numbers were brutal. There was no sugarcoating it.
Strength, Agility, Endurance—each one was painfully low. No wonder this body felt like it might collapse if I sprinted for more than a few seconds. Even a common soldier trainee would laugh at these stats. Forget academy elites—this was borderline civilian-level.
So the weakness wasn't just in my head.
It was quantified.
Confirmed.
Branded into existence by the system itself.
My jaw tightened.
"Severe malnutrition… figures."
This body hadn't just been neglected—it had been run into the ground. Whether through neglect, bullying, or self-destruction, the previous owner clearly hadn't survived this place unscathed.
Then my gaze drifted lower.
Rank: E+.
Low.
Painfully low.
But not the absolute bottom.
In this world, ranks were law. From F to SS, each letter marked an insurmountable gap in power. E-rank was barely considered combat-capable. The plus symbol suggested potential… or deviation.
At least I wasn't starting from F.
Then—
Luck: SSS+.
My eyes narrowed.
"…That's absurd."
The stat looked completely out of place, like a glitch pasted into the wrong file. Everything else was mediocre at best, disastrous at worst.
Yet my luck sat at a level that felt outright ridiculous.
SSS+ wasn't just rare.
It was mythical.
A rank that shouldn't even exist.
As if the universe itself had leaned in close and whispered, You're going to need this.
"Is this compensation?" I muttered. "Or a warning?"
My gaze shifted again.
Intelligence: 41.
Higher than average.
Not genius-tier, but comfortably above normal.
"So this body wasn't stupid," I murmured. "That explains how I'm still thinking straight."
If Intelligence reflected mental processing and comprehension, then this number likely explained why I hadn't collapsed mentally after the soul transfer. The system had accounted for that too.
Still—
The real abnormalities weren't the numbers.
Bloodline: Dormant (ERROR)
Soul Fusion (Incomplete)
Dimensional Residue Detected
Unidentified Variable
None of those belonged in a normal status window.
I swallowed.
Bloodlines were sacred in this world. Inherited legacies passed through generations—sources of unique abilities, traits, and affinities. Dormant bloodlines weren't rare, but an error?
That shouldn't be possible.
Soul Fusion?
That was worse.
That implied two existences overlapping imperfectly. Not reincarnation. Not possession.
A forced merge.
And dimensional residue…
That sounded less like a condition and more like evidence.
Evidence that I didn't belong here.
"So I'm not just some lucky reincarnator," I said quietly, my voice barely audible.
"I'm a walking system error."
As if responding to my words, the screen flickered.
The clean blue interface distorted for half a second, lines warping like a broken reflection.
Then new text appeared.
[ SYSTEM MESSAGE ]
[⚠ Warning: Host soul integrity unstable.
Synchronization in progress…
Do not attempt forced awakening.]
A dull ache pulsed behind my eyes.
Not pain.
Pressure.
As if something deep inside my skull shifted, brushing against sealed memories.
Fragments surfaced.
Not from this body.
And not from my previous life either.
Endless darkness.
A silence so absolute it swallowed sound itself.
Cold—not of temperature, but of absence.
And within that void…
Something vast.
Something ancient.
Watching.
Observing.
Waiting.
My heart pounded.
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.
"…Whatever you are," I whispered internally, forcing my thoughts to steady,
"stay quiet for now."
The pressure vanished.
Just like that.
The ache faded, leaving only a faint echo behind my eyes.
The screen dimmed slightly, its glow softening—as if it had acknowledged my will.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
I dismissed the window with a thought, though the system didn't fully disappear. It lingered at the edge of my awareness, passive, watchful.
I then left the Grand Hall and started walking towards the dormitory.
Outside, the academy courtyard stretched wide beneath the open sky. Stone pathways intersected manicured gardens and towering statues of legendary mages and warriors. The air felt fresher here, yet the atmosphere remained heavy, thick with tension and awe.
Groups of students whispered among themselves.
"Did you feel that pressure?"
"I couldn't breathe…"
"More than half collapsed instantly…"
"Only monsters stayed conscious."
I ignored them and walked on.
With these stats, real combat would be suicidal. E+ rank or not, this body was nowhere near academy standards. And if the principal's words were anything to go by, weakness wouldn't be tolerated here.
"No mana. No skills. A broken bloodline."
A faint laugh nearly escaped me.
"What a wonderful start."
Still—
I wasn't afraid.
If anything, a strange calm settled deep inside me.
The system hadn't erased me.
It hadn't rejected me.
It had labeled me unidentified.
And that meant I didn't fit into its rules.
Anything outside the rules…
Had the potential to rewrite them.
A bell rang across the academy grounds, its tone deep and resonant.
"Students are to return to their dormitories," a magical announcement echoed.
"Tomorrow marks the beginning of formal instruction."
I turned toward the dormitory buildings.
As I walked, I felt it again—
A gaze.
Sharp.
Focused.
I stopped.
Slowly, I looked up.
At the highest tower of the academy, framed by an open window, stood a solitary figure.
Silver hair, gleaming in the sunlight.
A calm, knowing smile.
Eyes sharp enough to pierce the soul.
Principal Alexa von Veldora.
Our eyes met.
For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
She smiled—slow, deliberate.
Not friendly.
Not hostile.
Curious.
Then she vanished.
A chill slid down my spine.
"…So you noticed me already," I murmured.
Good.
That meant she saw me as worth watching.
And in a place like this—
Being watched was far better than being ignored.
I slipped my hands into my pockets and continued walking.
"Arcane Academy," I whispered softly,
"let's see which one of us breaks first."