When Valen opened his eyes, he found himself among the first wave of completed students.
Around ten others had already finished, their skin's luminescence faded to normal flesh tones. They sat in various states of meditation—some still deep in concentration despite completion, others cautiously opening their eyes to gauge their performance against peers.
Valen observed the body language. The early finishers carried themselves differently—straighter spines, calmer breathing, the subtle confidence that came from knowing you'd outperformed the majority.
He closed his eyes again, turning his attention inward.
The special mana from the Luminescence Potion had integrated completely, but it hadn't simply dissipated. Something felt different in his mind—a clarity he hadn't possessed before. Thoughts flowed more smoothly, connections forming faster between concepts, like removing friction from gears that had always worked but now operated with perfect efficiency.
A gift from the Academy to everyone who passes.
"Master, your cognitive processing speed has increased by approximately 0.1%," Iris reported, her analytical processes having measured the change precisely.
Only point-one percent? Valen's initial disappointment lasted exactly two seconds before his enhanced thinking caught up.
"That's magnificent," he murmured internally. "Now we need to determine if this is permanent or just a temporary enhancement."
"Based on how thoroughly the mana integrated with your neural pathways, I estimate a ninety-two percent probability of permanence," Iris replied. "The effect appears structural rather than temporary buffing."
Around Valen, more students finished their absorption in steady succession. The hall filled with the quiet sounds of controlled breathing, rustling robes, and occasional sighs of relief or frustration depending on how long the process had taken.
Within thirty minutes, every student had completed the test.
As expected. Valen glanced around the hall with barely perceptible head movements, taking in the demographics. Everyone here comes from either exceptional bloodlines or demonstrated talent. The Academy already filtered out the weakest candidates.
Instructor Aldric stepped forward, his weathered face showing approval. "Excellent. You have all passed the final examination." His voice carried the authority of someone who'd conducted this ceremony hundreds of times. "Each of you should have a reasonable assessment of your core quality based on your absorption time."
"Iris, how long did I take?"
"Seven minutes, eleven seconds," she replied instantly. "Based on the number of students who completed before you, you rank within the top five percentile of this cohort."
Top five percent. A small smile threatened to break Valen's neutral expression. Not bad for someone who avoided the actual combat trials entirely.
"The fastest completion was Prince Alex at four minutes, thirty-seven seconds," Iris continued, her tone shifting to something more analytical. "Second place went to the main protagonist, Raylan, at four minutes, fifty-one seconds."
Fourteen seconds behind. Valen caught the difference immediately. The novel mentioned Raylan had an incredible core—the best in his generation. But he came second?
"According to the original novel's internal monologue," Iris explained, "Raylan deliberately slowed his absorption to avoid directly surpassing royalty in his first Academy test. Political awareness disguised as appropriate humility."
Ah. Protagonist aura and political savvy. Valen filed that away. Can't appear too exceptional too quickly, or you make powerful enemies before you're strong enough to handle them.
Instructor Seth stepped forward, his sharp eyes scanning the assembled students. "Your final rankings and detailed results will be distributed to all Academy instructors. Many of them may approach you with offers to become personal students—direct apprenticeships that provide the best resources and focused training."
The hall's energy shifted immediately. Personal students received preferential treatment, access to restricted archives, and direct mentorship from masters of their craft. Every student here understood the implications.
"Respond to such offers with appropriate courtesy," Seth continued, his tone carrying warning beneath politeness. "Whether you accept or decline, remember that every instructor you meet is a potential future ally or obstacle. Choose your words carefully."
Translation: don't burn bridges by being an arrogant brat when you refuse someone.
Valen filed the advice away. He had no intention of accepting personal apprenticeships yet—not until he understood the Academy's power dynamics better and had identified which instructors aligned with his goals of exploration and independence rather than political maneuvering.
Seth turned toward the far side of the mansion, gesturing broadly. The massive double doors Valen had noted earlier swung open on silent hinges, revealing what lay beyond.
"You are now students of Radiant Academy," Seth declared, his voice carrying genuine weight on those words. "Welcome."
The students filed through in ragged groups, conversations breaking out immediately—excited speculation, nervous energy, the social dynamics already reforming around new hierarchies.
Valen emerged into the Academy grounds and stopped.
This isn't what I expected.
The "Academy" wasn't a campus in any traditional sense. Beyond the administrative mansion lay only forest—dense, ancient, and thoroughly mysterious. The woods stretched in every direction, but these weren't the orderly cultivated trees of noble estates.
Mansions emerged from the forest like forgotten relics, some large and imposing, others modest and half-hidden. Each showed varying degrees of age and decay. Some appeared relatively intact, their walls solid and windows whole. Others looked genuinely dilapidated—crumbling stonework, collapsed sections, nature reclaiming territory.
Like a city abandoned to the forest centuries ago.
The fog had thickened since morning, reducing visibility to perhaps fifty meters. The air carried a genuine chill, cold enough that Valen's breath misted slightly. Moss clung to stone surfaces, and the scent of damp earth mixed with something else—ozone, perhaps, or residual magic from countless years of spellcasting.
Cloaked figures moved through the fog like shadows—some walking alone in contemplative silence, others traveling in tight groups with quiet conversations that didn't carry. Their movements had an ephemeral quality, appearing and disappearing into the mist with practiced ease.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Instructor Aldric asked, though his tone suggested he expected no answer.
The assembled students remained silent. Some from genuine awe, others from uncertainty about whether the question was rhetorical.
It's atmospheric, certainly. Valen studied the environment with interest. Maybe Mages and Warriors have always lived this way—isolated, mysterious, apart from normal civilization.
"Follow me," Aldric commanded, leading them into the maze-like woods.
The paths weren't marked or obvious. Aldric navigated by memory and subtle landmarks—a twisted oak with three trunks, a stone marker carved with weathered runes, a particular angle where two paths intersected. Several times they passed what looked like the same location, only for Aldric to take a different turn that revealed entirely new areas.
Valen committed the route to memory anyway, trusting Iris to map everything perfectly.
After twenty minutes of winding through fog-shrouded forest, they reached a relatively intact mansion—three stories, stone construction, ivy climbing its walls but overall structure sound.
"This is Dorm Mansion Seven Hundred One," Aldric announced, consulting a small notebook. "Valentine Ashford, this is your assigned residence."
Several other students received assignments to nearby mansions before the group continued deeper into the woods, presumably toward additional housing.
Valen approached the mansion alone.
The front door stood slightly ajar—not damaged, just open. Invitation or negligence, hard to tell.
He pushed it wider and stepped inside.
The interior surprised him. Despite the aged exterior, the entrance hall was clean. Not spotless—there was dust in corners and on high surfaces—but clearly maintained with regular care. The floor showed recent sweeping. The air smelled of old wood and faint cooking spices rather than abandonment and decay.
Someone's living here already.
As if summoned by the thought, an automaton emerged from the far end of the hall where a dining table and kitchen area were visible.
Valen stopped, genuine surprise breaking through his usual neutral expression.
The automaton stood roughly human-height, constructed from brass with visible gear mechanisms at its joints. Its movements were smooth but distinctly mechanical—no attempt to perfectly mimic human motion. The head featured a single large optical lens that swiveled to focus on Valen with audible clicking. Steam vented from small ports along its neck with each movement, and intricate runic engravings glowed faintly along its torso plating.
A robot. An actual robot.
"You must be a new student!" The automaton's voice emerged from a speaker-like grille in its chest, surprisingly animated and enthusiastic. "Do not attack! This is my cooking automaton. I am remotely controlling it from my room."
The voice was male, young, energetic—probably another student rather than faculty.
"Woah!" Valen couldn't suppress his reaction entirely. His past-life engineering background surged forward with immediate fascination. "We can make automatons using magic?"
"Duh! Haven't you heard about the new Automaton Division of the Artificer Department?" The controller's voice carried friendly mockery before immediately backtracking. "Oh right, you're a new student. You wouldn't know about that yet."
The automaton gestured toward the stairs with mechanical precision. "You will have to take the attic. This automaton can cook several dishes by itself and handle basic cleaning, so you don't need to worry about housework. The other housemates are currently at different campuses."
Different campuses? Valen caught the plural immediately.
"Other campuses?"
"Ah, silly me! You won't know about those either." The controller's voice shifted to lecture mode, clearly someone who enjoyed explaining things. "Radiant Academy maintains four additional campuses across the Radiant Empire, positioned roughly at the cardinal directions. There's a teleportation gate network in the underground levels beneath the administrative tower. Students can travel between campuses freely once they complete fundamentals."
The automaton's lens focused more intently on Valen, the mechanical equivalent of serious eye contact.
"But of course, as a new student, you'll remain here at headquarters for the entire spring and summer learning fundamental theory. There's a comprehensive written examination after that—very difficult, I should warn you. Most students require over a year to pass it. You can only choose your specialized department and visit other campuses after completing fundamentals."
Half a year, possibly over a year. Valen filed that information carefully. And they separate advanced students from new ones entirely. Keeps the inexperienced from wandering into dangerous situations while maintaining focused learning environments.
"You should spend your initial days focused on studying," the automaton continued, its tone shifting to almost parental concern. "The fundamentals exam has a notorious failure rate."
"Thank you, senior, for your guidance," Valen replied with appropriate respect.
"Don't mention it! As the most senior occupant of this mansion, I've guided many new students." The automaton performed something that might have been a mechanical bow. "Go to the tower tomorrow at dawn. You'll receive your course schedule and additional instructions there."
"Thank you, senior. I'll go get settled now."
The automaton nodded—a distinctly human gesture rendered strange by mechanical execution—and returned to the kitchen area, resuming whatever cooking task had been interrupted.
Valen climbed the stairs, found the ladder to the attic level, and ascended into what would be his personal space for the foreseeable future.
The attic exceeded his expectations dramatically.
The space stretched vast beneath sloped rafters, far larger than the mansion's exterior suggested possible. Sunlight filtered through a large dormer window, illuminating a space that felt less like abandoned storage and more like a wizard's forgotten sanctum.
Miscellaneous items filled every corner—ancient trunks with rusted locks, bookshelves holding volumes with cracked spines, peculiar devices whose purposes defied immediate identification. A full-length mirror stood against one wall, its surface slightly tarnished with age. Strange symbols had been carved into the wooden support beams, their meanings lost to time or deliberately obscured. Crystalline formations jutted from one corner, humming with barely perceptible magical resonance.
Near the window, someone had left a bed frame—currently folded against the wall—along with a mattress wrapped in protective canvas.
"Oh wow! This feels mystical!" Iris emerged from Valen's body in her spectral form—a translucent, glowing version of her chibi avatar, hovering freely in the air.
She darted around the attic with obvious delight, examining curiosities, passing through solid objects to investigate hidden corners, her blue luminescence casting moving shadows across the cluttered space.
"Now this feels like a proper magical academy!" Her voice carried genuine excitement.
Valen couldn't disagree. He unfolded the bed frame with practiced efficiency, positioned it near the dormer window for optimal light and view, and arranged the mattress. The wood creaked under his hands but held firm—old but well-maintained.
The window opened outward on well-maintained hinges despite its aged appearance. Valen pushed it wide and leaned against the frame, looking out over the Academy grounds.
The attic's elevation provided a view above most of the forest canopy. Through gaps in the fog, Valen spotted other mansions scattered throughout the woods—some completely dark, others showing candlelight or magical illumination in scattered windows.
Distant flashes caught his attention.
Flame bursts illuminating fog from within. Crackling lightning arcing between unseen points. Colored light—purple, green, gold—pulsing in rhythmic patterns that suggested practice drills or experimental spellcasting. Once, he caught what looked like a small tornado forming between trees before dissipating just as quickly.
Advanced students training. Valen watched the distant displays with interest. And they're not holding back.
The scope of what he'd committed to settled over him—not oppressively, but with satisfying weight.
This place was vast. Complex. Dangerous in ways both obvious and subtle. He'd need to be careful, strategic, patient.
But it was also exactly what he'd wanted.
A world to explore. Magic to master. Freedom to chart his own course away from the protagonist's destined path.
I should get some rest.
Valen pulled the window mostly closed, leaving just enough gap for fresh air circulation. The temperature had dropped further with evening approaching, and—
A loud crash shattered the quiet.
Valen's eyes snapped open. A massive raven—easily the size of an eagle—perched on the clothes hanger near his bed, its talons gripping the wood with surprising delicacy. The creature's feathers were pitch black with an oily iridescence that caught the fading light.
It stared at him with unsettling intelligence.
Then it started gagging.
Valen jumped back, preparing to dodge whatever was coming. Is it going to vomit? On my bed?
But instead of vomit, the raven produced a letter—pristine white envelope appearing from its beak as if by magic. It dropped the letter gently on his bed and continued staring at him quietly, head tilted in what might have been expectation.
"Do you want a tip?" Valen asked nervously, unsure of proper messenger-raven etiquette.
The raven cawed—a sound that felt distinctly like laughter—and launched itself out the window. As it departed, the broken glass window mended itself, shards flowing together without a trace of damage.
Iris swooped in, her ghostly form examining the envelope. "It's from your parents."
"Let me see." Valen picked up the letter carefully, noting the Ashford family seal pressed into dark blue wax. "They usually send letters by human courier. Sigh. Mages receive different treatment."
His parents wrote four times a year, timed with the seasons. As spring had just begun, the letter was expected.
But the contents were not.
Usually his mother's flowing script dominated these letters—warm sentiments, questions about his health, gentle encouragement. But this time, his father's sharp, precise handwriting filled the first paragraph.
"I heard you refused the Lightning Bolt spell and started with the Mana Sharing spell. It is very uncharacteristic of you to turn a deaf ear to your parents' guidance. Growing up in the mansion without us has made you arrogant and indulgent."
Valen felt his jaw tighten. So much for paternal warmth.
"You should have joined the Academy by now. I want you to learn the Lightning Bolt spell before summer ends. Then you must pass the fundamentals test in the first attempt. Following that, you will leave for the Southwest Campus, also known as the Stormhold Campus, situated in the heartland of the Ashford territory."
The Ashford heartland. Valen's attention sharpened. He knew about it. The main protagonist Raylan Cross comes from this land.
"Come to think of it, you have never seen the territory of your own family, growing up in the capital. Come here—we will hold your coming-of-age ceremony and celebrate your becoming a mage successfully. You will also meet all of your elders and cousins and learn under the grand mages of the Ashford family. Your mother also has important news."
The handwriting changed—softer, more curved, unmistakably his mother's.
"My dearest Valentine, how I have missed you! Your father writes with his usual sternness, but know that we are both incredibly proud of you. Entering the Radiant Academy is an achievement few can claim, and you have made our family shine brighter."
"Now, my darling boy, I have wonderful news that I have been bursting to share with you."
Valen felt a strange sense of foreboding.
"While stationed here, your father and I were honored to receive His Imperial Majesty and several members of the royal family. At the formal banquet, I had the pleasure of conversing extensively with Her Highness, Princess Amber Lumis—the Fifteenth Princess."
Wait. Valen's eyes widened. Princess Amber? The one who ranked second in the entrance examination?
"She is a remarkable young woman—intelligent, accomplished in both combat magic and scholarly pursuits, and carries herself with grace befitting her station. During our conversations, Her Majesty the Empress mentioned that Princess Amber would benefit from a strong alliance with an established ducal house, particularly one with deep magical traditions."
The words seemed to blur as Valen read faster.
"Your father and I saw an extraordinary opportunity. With His Imperial Majesty's gracious approval, we have entered preliminary negotiations for a marriage arrangement between you and Princess Amber. The Empress herself expressed interest, noting that the princess should marry someone of genuine talent rather than empty titles."
"No. No, no, no—" Valen muttered, already seeing where this was going.
"Of course, nothing is finalized yet. These matters require time and proper ceremony. But when you visit Stormhold this autumn for your coming-of-age, representatives from the Imperial Court will also attend."
"I know this seems sudden, my dear, but such opportunities do not come often. Another union between House Ashford and the Imperial Family would secure our family's position. And from what I observed, Princess Amber is not the sort to be forced into anything—she will judge you on your own merits. I have every confidence you will impress her."
"Study hard, grow strong, and make us proud. We love you dearly."
"Your devoted mother."
Valen stared at the letter, reading the passage again to confirm he hadn't hallucinated it.
An arranged marriage. With Princess Amber Lumis. Who ranked second in the entrance examination. Who actually fought Rank 2 monsters while I was taking a written test in complete safety.
Iris materialized beside him, peering at the letter with obvious curiosity. "This is... unexpected. The original novel never mentioned Valentine being betrothed to anyone, let alone royalty."
"Because the original Valentine was a throwaway side character who appeared once and vanished," Valen muttered, rubbing his temples. "Maybe I have changed the story just by me being here."
He set the letter down carefully, mind already racing through implications.
Father wants me at Stormhold Campus by autumn. That means passing the fundamentals exam in half a year when most students take over a year. Learning Lightning Bolt spell on top of my current abilities. And somehow impressing a princess who actually earned her place through combat.
Valen looked out the window at the fog-shrouded Academy grounds, where distant magical flashes still illuminated the growing darkness.
I came here for freedom and exploration. Instead, I'm getting deadlines, expectations, and political entanglements with the Imperial Family.
"Master," Iris said quietly, her chibi form hovering at eye level, "what do you plan to do?"
Valen was silent for a long moment, watching the lights flicker in the distance like distant stars.
"What I always do," he finally replied. "Learn everything I can, prepare thoroughly, and deal with complications swiftly as they arise."
He picked up the letter again, carefully folding it and tucking it into his briefcase.
The fog thickened outside his window, and somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled—natural or magical, impossible to tell.