The B-classroom buzzed with a low, excited hum before Professor Kareth arrived. The air was thick with the shared identity of the overlooked—the commoners, the low-tier nobles, the ones with potential but not enough pedigree for the hallowed halls of A-class. Near the back, a group of students huddled around a desk, their voices a conspiratorial whisper.
Student 1 (leaning in): Did you hear? Lucien Valehart got placed in A-class. Obviously.
Student 2 (snorting): Of course he did. You think they'd let a Valehart sit with us commoners? His family would burn the administration building to the ground.
Student 3 (glancing at the door): But that guy who beat him—Asahina—he's in our class, right? How does that work?
At that moment, as if summoned by the gossip, Shiro slouched through the doorway like a sleepwalking zombie, having had no luck finding a free, warm classroom to nap in. He beelined for the farthest, most shadowy corner and collapsed into a seat, his absurdly long katana clattering loudly as he dumped it onto the desk, then promptly folded his arms and buried his face in them. His shoulders rose and fell with slow, even breaths. Asleep in seconds.
Meanwhile, near the window, two girls whispered behind their raised textbooks, their eyes flicking toward the corner.
Girl 1: I heard he doesn't even have his own katana, but he brought one today. That giant thing.
Girl 2 (giggling): Maybe he's one of those wandering swordsmen from the stories! The mysterious, pretty type who saves villages.
Girl 1: He's kind of cute, isn't he? In a really dead-inside sort of way.
Indeed, Shiro was out cold—until—
Arien: There you are! So you actually showed up this time?
Shiro: Mmm...
SLAM!
Arien's palm hit the desk right next to Shiro's ear, the sound cracking through the classroom chatter.
Arien: Wake up, you idiot! Class is starting!
Shiro lifted his head just enough to glare at Arien with one bloodshot, sleep-crusted eye, the rest of his face still hidden in his arms.
Shiro (muffled): You're too much.
Arien huffed and dropped into the seat beside him, her crimson braid whipping over her shoulder like an angry snake.
Arien: Unbelievable. You ditch class all morning, then sleep when you finally show up? What is wrong with you?
Shiro (yawning loudly): I'm participating. This is my 'listening face.'
He blinked, his brain slowly processing her presence. He looked from her to the B-class plaque on the wall, genuine confusion on his face.
Shiro (confused): Wait, you're in B-class too?
Arien (angry): Don't tell me you didn't know until now! We literally came to class together this morning! Were you sleepwalking?!
Arien took a deep breath, forcibly calming herself down. She leaned closer, her voice dropping.
Arien: I heard what happened at the exam. You beat the crap out of that Valehart noble. So why are you in B-class? Shouldn't you be up there with him?
Shiro: I failed the written exam.
Arien: You failed something that easy?
Shiro (a flicker of anger breaking through his lethargy): Then why are you in B-class?
Arien: Well, I-I... she stammered, looking away.
Shiro: I-what?
Arien (her voice dropping to a mortified whisper): I lost my battle.
Shiro (a mocking, wide-eyed look on his face): WHAAAT? I DIDN'T HEA—
WHAP! Arien slapped the back of Shiro's head—hard.
Before Arien could retort further, the classroom door swung open with definitive authority. Every student scrambled to their seats as Professor Kareth strode in, her gray eyes scanning the room like a hawk's, missing nothing. The silence that fell was immediate and absolute.
Professor Kareth: Sit properly. We're resuming where we left off.
Shiro groaned and slumped even lower in his chair, trying to make himself invisible.
Shiro (whispering to Arien): You already covered stuff?
Arien (smug): While some were napping, we learned actual things. Shocking, I know.
Shiro: Hmm. Must've been fascinating. The heavy sarcasm was palpable.
Kareth's gaze lingered on Shiro for a beat too long, a silent acknowledgment of his troublesome presence, before she turned to the blackboard.
Professor Kareth: As discussed, there are three tiers of power one can master in this world.
Her gaze swept the room, ensuring she had everyone's attention.
Professor Kareth: As first-years, you will focus solely on the first tier: mastering your innate Art Style. It is your foundation. Without it, you are nothing.
She paused, her voice dropping into a more serious, almost ominous register.
Professor Kareth: You are not to research the third tier. It is forbidden. The ban is absolute—not even the Five Noble Families are exempt from its punishment.
A brave, or perhaps foolish, student near the front raised a hand.
Student 1: But why is it forbidden, Professor? What is it?
Kareth's grip tightened on her piece of chalk, her knuckles turning white. A shadow seemed to pass over her face.
Professor Kareth: I lack the authority to explain. Frankly, she admitted, her voice a near-whisper, even I don't know its true nature. I only know the law. Speak its name, research it, or attempt to wield it... Her voice dropped so low the students had to lean forward to hear. ...and you'll disappear. The academy, the nobles, the royal guard... they will make you vanish, and no one will ever speak of you again.
The room's temperature seemed to drop by ten degrees. A few students shivered, not from the cold, but from the absolute finality in her tone.
Student 2 (nervously): What about the second tier, Professor?
Kareth's posture relaxed slightly, the grim tension easing.
Professor Kareth: The second tier is what separates a proficient user from a master. All I can say for now is that it is a single, perfected technique refined from the core of your Art Style. It isexponentially stronger than any normal form, but equally exhausting. Her eyes flicked almost imperceptibly toward Shiro, who was now tracing patterns in the dust on his desk. Master your foundation first. Do not reach for a power you cannot control.
Shiro, who hadn't even mastered the art of staying awake, let out a loud, obnoxious yawn that broke the tense silence.
Professor Kareth's eye twitched, but she didn't call him out. Instead, she turned and wrote a single word on the blackboard with a sharp, screeching sound.
MAXIMUM
Professor Kareth: We call the second tier... Maximum. Remember the name. But for now, forget it. Focus on today.