I felt great despite the situation. I hadn't really moved around a lot the last two days. And ate plenty of nutritionally well-balanced meals. So my body was in tip-top shape. On top of that, I felt extra snazzy in my new uniform.
It was as simple as agreed upon. Consisting of a well-fitted pair of pants. A simple white shirt with a high collar that peeked out from underneath the icy blue robe I wore on top of the whole outfit. The pants were the same color as the robe, whose fabric extended just past my hips. Giving me plenty of freedom to move around.
My brown leather shoes were switched out in favor of polished black boots that were just barely in line with the academy's dress code. But we're nice and comfortable. So I already knew I would wear them whenever given the chance.
The only thing my uniform had in common with that of the other students around me was, of course, that embroidered on it was the insignia of the school. But thanks to Jorvan's help and understanding, it wasn't stitched on in gold or silver thread. Like it was for most others.
It was stitched onto my robe on the left side of my chest with simple thread. Just over the heart. No larger than my palm. Showing a simplified version of the insignia of the Academy.
An insignia that was proudly displayed on every building. Depicting a gracefully flowing curtain of shimmering lights, woven from threads of emerald green, icy blue, and soft violet.
This ethereal veil cascades gently over an ancient, open tome whose weathered pages glow faintly with arcane glyphs etched in silver and gold.
The colors of the insignia were not just the colors of the academy. They were also represented in the coat of arms of Eidralûn's armies and royalty. Or, differently put, they were the colors of the kingdom's flag.
Which is why I decided to go for one of the colors from the insignia for my uniform. Hoping that, like this, I stick out slightly less. But of course, that was naive.
I still stuck out like a sore thumb. I mean. I would have fit in with the foundational class students, who also had mostly pretty basic uniforms. The prestige class students, however. Yeah. They were all dressed to the nines.
Favoring heavy brocades, embroidered crests, or gilded trim. With plenty of gold or silver thread in their outfits. From what I saw as we walked onto the square where the opening ceremony is held, a few other students of the prestige class had also forgone heavy ornamentation.
Most importantly, someone who, I assume, is the top student of this year. A boy with raven-black hair and sharp facial features.
As for why I think he is the top student of the year. Well, it's because he is up on stage with the professors, headmaster, school staff, and other important-looking students.
A stage was set up behind the main building in the single largest plaza on the school grounds. Surrounded by stands set up for the spectacle. Filled to the brim with people.
Pretty much everyone who is part of the Academy is here to watch the proceedings in one way or another. Including all students. `It's gotta be at least like four or five thousand people here.`
The students alone numbered somewhere in the seven or eight hundred. Surely they have arrived from all over the continent and further beyond to visit the best school in all of Draumond.
The students are split up into three columns and three rows. To signify their level of class as well as age, respectively. With the third years up front near the stage and the first years in the back.
Not that our formation was symmetrical. Far from it. Way more than half of the seven hundred students are in the foundational class. `I'd say around five hundred. Something around that?` The number of students shrinks the higher the year is.
While the first year of the foundational class was around two hundred or two hundred fifty people alone. Really hammering home just how big the dichotomy between the classes is.
The prestigious class of first years I was part of, in turn, was only twenty-eight people. And the third-year prestige class only consists of about half that number, from what I could see up front.
`It was difficult enough to just get into the school. But staying in prestige class for all three years seems nigh impossible.` I muse as I shift my weight from one foot to another lazily.
Checking again from the corner of my eyes as I do. To check my surroundings again. Not that anything has changed. I was standing by myself. To the left side of the actual formation. Like an outcast.
Something the headmaster found hilarious based on the face he makes whenever our eyes meet. "Dickhead." But at least now I finally have a name to put to his face.
"Spectators, rise for Malrik Vorenar. Warden of the Veil and illustrious headmaster of Oridalis Academy." The speaker on stage announces. Before Malrik takes the stage, to loud applause.
Unlike before, with the acceptance ceremony, however, he kept to the script this time. Rambling about pride and innovation and other such stuff. The speech is not too different from what you would hear at an entrance ceremony of a university on earth.
So I was mostly tuned out. I prefer to entertain myself with my own thoughts. Going over what I had learned over the last two days. So that once classes start, I can at least pretend to keep up. Though I was well aware that I wasn't nearly there yet.
Good thing, then, that classes don't start today. Tomorrow is when classes start. Today is the start of school. But it's a day reserved for ceremonies. Not just this entrance ceremony either.
No.
The ceremony that I, and probably most other students, were really waiting for. Was the focus the choosing ceremony? Where the students get their first professional magical focus.
And also the first thing where my actual knowledge of combat in this game might come in handy. Because what focus you choose makes a big difference in combat.
My attention is drawn to the stage when Malrik announces the name of the raven-haired boy. Calling on him to speak. "Now I am sure that you are all tired of listening to me speak already. So allow me to hand the stage over to our top examinee of this year for a short speech. Give a round of applause to Selvan Tharros."
Revealing the reason why he was up on stage in the process. Apparently, this handsome kid who carried himself with such dignity and pride had every reason to. As the top examinee, he had every right to be arrogant.
Not that what I see in him is arrogance. He seems a lot more mature than that. Not the type of person to get a big head over something like this. His speech was fairly short and clearly rehearsed. As if to show others how little this meant to him.
He was clearly hungry for more. Aiming somewhere much higher than just being the top student in the prestige class. "Ohh?" This, coupled with his simple robe design, which wasn't too different from my own, caught my attention, of course. `Interesting.`
I'm sure there were other students like him as well. But I didn't expect the top student to be so humble and straightforward. It was a bit jarring, considering the way everyone else I've met so far has been acting.
But I shrug off my surprise quickly. `Eh. I suppose there are all kinds of different people in all strata of society.` Obviously, that was the case. My thoughts had simply gone back to bouncing around since my attention was wandering again.
Not for long, though. As the entrance ceremony ends soon after, there is thunderous applause from the spectators and students. `Finally. It's been two hours.` Not that the whole thing had been over quickly.
Before Malrik and, consequently, Selvan had taken the stage, every other professor had already chimed in with their own interpretation of what it meant to be a student at Oridalis Academy. So it had been dragging on for a while now.
Luckily, it was finally over, and we could move on to what was actually important. The Focus-Choosing Ceremony. For which we need to change the venue. So we turn around and begin to march towards the back of the academy grounds.
Well. The first years do anyway. The second and third-year students obviously already have their own foci. But they still joined the procession. To watch what their future rival mages pick as their tool of focus.
The focus-choosing ceremony, unlike the entrance ceremony, was not held under open skies. It was held in a huge, pristine white marble building that was reminiscent of the Pantheon in Greece.
Except it had a roof, and the pillars were connected with pure white walls. It was also much larger than the actual Pantheon. Easily fitting the four or five thousand people that had come to watch in it.
The floor where the foci were stored was also significantly lower than it was in the Pantheon. There was a clear disconnect between spectators and students.
So in that way, it was more like an arena than the actual Pantheon. With walls both physical and magical separating us students from the observers.
And for good reason. Picking a focus was not without danger. In the game, it was simple. A focus whose requirements you didn't meet could simply not be equipped.
But this was a real world now. And choosing a focus you couldn't handle meant that you could be rejected by it. This didn't mean you'd be thrown out of the academy or lose any points. However, you might suffer some injury from the magical rejection.
At least that's what everyone around me has been talking about since we set off for this building.
The foci were a lot of different things, too. Not just staves and wands, as one would expect. There were other classics, such as grimoires and fist-sized orbs. As well as bracelets, styluses, and amulets.
Each category helps with different tasks. Staves, for example, are most suitable for casting spells with precision at a distance. While wands, on the other hand, give you more speed and are less cumbersome.
This all meant we were spoiled for choice. Considering there were easily a hundred of each focus category available. Some were simply placed on pedestals, while others floated midair. Suspended by magic.
They were also ranked in a pretty obvious manner. With the easy-to-handle and control foci in the front of the room and the more difficult ones in the back. Ranking from low rank one to two-star foci. All the way to six or seven star foci, all the way in the back.
So, according to my potential, I should go for one of the foci right up front. But when Malrik finishes telling us about the dangers of picking a focus outside your range, and gives the go-ahead to pick one. I remain standing. Watching others scramble forward to grab the magical tool they want.
I'm not the only one, of course. Others were also waiting near the door. Watching scornfully as the "lowly mages" scramble for their weak foci. Or so I assume the others around me think.
Most of the ones that had stayed behind at the door were from either the esteemed or the prestige class. Though there were some people from the foundational class, too.
Some of them are also looking down on the others from their own classes. While some just seemed nervous. Not that I didn't also catch a hint of nervousness from some of the esteemed and prestige class students.
This was an important event after all. The focus you choose here didn't lock you into any specific style of magic. But what focus you choose here is still important. As it will accompany you throughout the three years of school.
Since private foci are forbidden on school grounds. And considering any duels or magic demonstrations you have to do during the three years will have to happen using said focus. It was certainly important that you chose carefully. Something that suits you and the school of magic you are going for.
I wasn't nervous about what kind of foci I would choose, however. I was spoiled for choice, yes. But I already knew what I wanted.
The playstyle I most enjoyed in the game was built around being up in the face of my opponents. Using mostly Pyromancy and Motus magic. So a wand was the way to go.
And with that in mind, I step forward after the first big scramble is over. Perusing the rows of foci casually. Like I'm window shopping.
"Tss." Until I heard someone click their tongue near me. "You look lost. If you are looking for the one-star foci, they are over there." Some guy with dirty blonde hair spat my way.
But I obviously just ignored him. Just waving my hand casually as I keep going. My attention was caught when someone suffered a rejection reaction from his chosen foci. Crumbling to the ground after grunting.
Luckily staff was on the ground with us and quickly surged forward to tend to the boy who had crumpled to the ground.
"See. This is what will happen to you if you don't know your place, you unwashed peasant." The same blonde-haired boy from before commented. Clearly referring to me yet again.
"Yeah. Aight. Whatever." I shrug before I turn and walk away. Hoping that this time he'll leave me alone. Since I could really do without having my thoughts constantly interrupted. `I'm trying to pick a wand here, bro. Shut up.`
"Hey, I-" The boy yet again wanted to spit more venom, but this time he was the one interrupted when Selvan brushed past him. Followed by a gaggle of other high-ranking nobles aiming for some foci further back in the room.
All happily chattering with each other and trying to cozy up to Selvan. He looked neither pleased nor upset about the attention he was getting. His face was carefully schooled to hide his emotions.
Though I got the distinct feeling he wasn't happy. His steps were too snappy, and the way he brushed past others seemed a little too aggressive.
His demeanor only changed once he spotted a focus that seemed to draw his attention. A sleek, black staff with a silver eagle ornament serving as its head. A focus that was almost all the way at the back of the hall. Signifying its high level.
Yet he stepped forward and reached out with zero hesitation. Only to touch the staff at the same time as another person. A girl with chestnut brown hair. A rather plain face and unremarkable build.
Someone from the esteemed class. No one special at first glance. Yet something drew my eye to her. `Hmmm?` I tilt my head as I squint my eyes at her.
I don't know her. Nor have I seen her before. But something about her is different. `What?` I'm confused by my own curiosity. Quirking an eyebrow as I draw closer to the pair. Almost instinctively.
Until I catch myself and pause my steps. I shake my head to clear my thoughts. But the fascination with the girl remains. `What is it? Is it her face?` It wasn't. `Her movements.` They weren't. `What then?`
While I was pondering this, Selvan and the mystery girl seemed to have a short conversation. After which, the girl curtsied and walked away. But just like my own gaze, Selvan's followed her as she left.
Going back to the middle rows and picking a focus seemingly at random. A bracelet. That, at first glance, seemed just as unremarkable as her. But in her hand, it quickly became an object of suspicion to me. Just as suspicious as she was.
I was so distracted by the impossible-to-explain sensation I felt towards the girl, I barely even noticed Selvan had grabbed the high-rank staff. I only realized he had grabbed it when I felt vibrations on the ground.
"Is that?" One of the girls who had followed Selvan gasped as the staff shimmered in his hand and vibrated the air and ground around him. "A resonance reaction? With such a high-ranked staff?" Another muttered in disbelief.
A resonance reaction was basically the direct opposite of a rejection. It means that you and your chosen focus sync. Making it easier for you to cast spells through the focus.
Foci. Especially higher-ranked ones were much like complex machines in that regard. Requiring understanding to fully utilize. A resonance reaction basically meant that the focus shared some understanding with you.
It all sounded rather complex to me. Since nothing of the sort existed in the game. In the game, you simply grabbed the best focus whose stats you could match, and that was pretty much it. You could use it to the best of its abilities.
And speaking of abilities. My attention constantly being pulled this way and that, allowed me to catch sight of something I actually remember from the game. "Waaaaait."
My whole focus is instantly drawn to a wand not too far away. But not just any wand. It was the Molten Core Wand. A sturdy-looking black wand inlaid with a strip of glowing orange crystal. That went down its whole length, like a crack in cooled magma.
And the wand I used all the way up to mid-game in my most successful run. The run that gave birth to my in-your-face, pyromancy-focused wand tactics.
"Yooo. Bro." Everything else was instantly forgotten as I was thrown for a nostalgia loop. My feet move towards the pedestal the wand was placed on before I can even really think.
"Grab." I snatch the wand up with a big grin. A grin that freezes on my lips as I realize what I just did. `Oh no.` This was a pretty high-ranking wand after all. There was no way I matched its stat requirements.
Yet a rejection never came. Instead, it started to shake in my hand and burst into flames. A violent storm of fire erupts around me, with me at its center. Yet the flames aren't hot at all. Just as flames conjured by pyromancy aren't hot to the wielder of said magic.
A powerful resonance reaction that easily dwarfed what Selvan managed to achieve with his staff. At least based on all the shocked and baffled faces I see once the flames die down.
Faces I barely notice as I mostly just stare at my wand. Whom I understand rather well. The way mana flowed through it was as if it were an extension of my mind. Like I was holding onto a part of myself that I could easily put aside if I wanted to.
`Bet that little shit of a headmaster is enjoying himself watching this.` I think to myself somewhere in the back of my mind. While I continue to look at my wand from different angles, curiously. Ignoring the stares and whispers around me.