Kael stared at his own display, the words "Destruction & War" seeming to pulse in time with his heartbeat. Around him, students compared results, some cheering, others lamenting. But Kael's attention was divided between the power humming at his wrist, the blue-haired scion of lightning at his side, and the dawning realization that his journey—for better or worse—had truly begun.
The last echoes of the Welcoming Ceremony's applause had long faded by the time Kael and Darius trudged back toward their dormitory, the weight of the day pressing down on them like a physical force. The grand hall's imposing aura still clung to Kael's thoughts—Principal Vermont's speech, the revelation of Thea's lineage, and most of all, the glowing **S-Class** designation hovering above his wrist.
Darius, however, was preoccupied with a far more immediate concern.
*"You couldn't have shaken me awake? Just one nudge? A bucket of water, even?"* he grumbled, kicking a loose pebble across the cobbled path. His shoulders slumped in defeat, the humiliation of being singled out by the principal still fresh. *"I looked like an idiot in front of the entire academy!"*
Kael exhaled through his nose, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. *"You *were* an idiot for staying up all night gambling with those third-years,"* he pointed out. *"And if I recall, you told me not to 'mother-hen' you before passing out."*
Darius opened his mouth to retort, then snapped it shut, scowling. *"Fine. But you owe me for the fifty merit points I lost."*
*"I owe you *nothing*,"* Kael said flatly. His stomach growled loudly, cutting through the tension. *"What I *do* need is food. Where do we eat in this place?"*
Darius perked up slightly at the mention of food. *"There's the academy cafeteria. Standard meals are free, but they're basically glorified gruel—oatmeal for breakfast, mystery stew for dinner. If you want anything decent, you'll need to spend credit points."*
*"Credit points?"*
*"Different from merit points,"* Darius explained, rubbing his wrist where his academy band gleamed. *"You earn credits by taking missions—fetch quests, monster hunts, tutoring underclassmen. The harder the task, the more credits you get. Some seniors even trade them like currency."*
Kael frowned. *"So if we're broke, we're stuck with slop?"*
*"Unless you charm a cook, yeah."*
As they rounded the corner toward the dining hall, two familiar figures came into view: **Lira** and **Thea**, walking side by side in what appeared to be a lively discussion. Thea's blue hair caught the fading evening light like a sapphire, while Lara's usual confident stride seemed slightly stiffer in the noble's presence.
*"Speak of the devils,"* Darius muttered.
Lira spotted them first, her face brightening. *"There you are! We were just heading to the cafeteria."*
Thea's golden eyes flicked to Kael, a smirk playing on her lips. *"Still in one piece after that display with the principal, Darius?"*
Darius groaned. *"Don't remind me."*
*"Wait,"* Kael said, eyeing the two girls. *"You're roommates?"*
Lira nodded. *"Apparently, the academy pairs students alphabetically. 'Mendes' and 'Vermont' ended up together."*
Thea's smirk deepened. *"Lucky me."*
Lira's smile tightened almost imperceptibly.
The dining hall was a vast, high-ceilinged chamber lined with long wooden tables, already half-filled with chattering students. The air smelled of roasted meat and herbs, but beneath it lingered the faint, unmistakable scent of **magic**—likely preservation spells on the food.
At the far end, a serving counter stretched the length of the room, where harried kitchen staff doled out meals. Two lines had formed:
1. **The "Standard" Line** – A dismal queue where students received plain wooden bowls of thin stew and hard bread.
2. **The "Credit" Line** – A shorter, more luxurious line where portions were heaped onto polished silver plates, steaming with spiced meats, fresh vegetables, and even enchanted desserts that shimmered faintly.
Darius sighed. *"Guess we're in Bowl Town tonight."*
Before they could join the standard line, Thea smoothly stepped in front of them, flashing her academy band. *"My treat."*
Lira blinked. *"You're—"*
*"A Vermont? Yes, and that means I start with more credits than I'll ever need."* She waved them toward the premium line. *"Consider it an apology for Darius's public shaming."*
Darius's eyes lit up. *"I forgive everything."*
Their group claimed a corner table, their trays laden with roasted pheasant, honey-glazed vegetables, and goblets of spiced cider. Thea ate with effortless grace, while Darius devoured his meal like a starved wolf.
Lira, however, picked at her food, her gaze occasionally darting toward Thea. *"So… your family. Do they know you're here?"*
Thea's fingers stilled around her fork. *"They *insisted* I attend. My uncle—the one with Grade 9 Lightning—thinks Valerion's training is 'the only worthy path.'"* Her tone was light, but Kael caught the flicker of something darker beneath.
*"Must be pressure, being their heir,"* Kael said carefully.
Thea's golden eyes locked onto his. *"You have no idea."*
A beat of silence passed before Darius, oblivious, spoke through a mouthful of bread. *"So, missions. What's the easiest way to earn credits?"*
Lira seized the change in topic. *"First-years usually start with herb-gathering in the Whispering Woods or cleaning the training grounds after combat classes."*
*"Ugh. Manual labor,"* Darius groaned.
*"Or,"* Thea said, her voice dropping conspiratorially, *"we could take a *real* mission."*
Kael's brows lifted. *"Such as?"*
*"The notice board mentioned disappearances near the old dormitories. Some say it's a **shadowbeast**—a creature that feeds on fear."*
Liraa stiffened. *"That's *not* a first-year mission."*
*"Which is why it pays fifty credits per person,"* Thea countered.
Kael's **Destruction & War** affinity hummed in response, as if awakened by the
Thea's smile was sharp. *"Then it's settled."*
As the others debated plans, Kael's gaze drifted to the academy's towering spires beyond the windows. **This place was more than just lessons.**
It was a den of ambition.
And he intended to rise to the top.
.