Rolin rubbed his eyes lazily.
His messy hair practically screamed in protest against waking up this early, and his golden eyes were barely half open.
"…Registration? Now?"
He let out a long yawn, one that nearly swallowed Kyle whole.
"Do you have any idea how many hours I slept?"
Kyle raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
"Less than you should, and more than the university system allows."
From inside Rolin's chest—
'I support sleeping,' Likath complained dramatically. 'Fire needs rest.'
"Shut up," Rolin muttered.
Kyle stared at him.
"…You seriously need therapy."
Rolin sighed and stepped aside.
"Come in. But if you start mocking how I look, I'm shutting the door and going back to sleep."
Kyle entered, giving the room a quick scan before nodding approvingly.
His gaze stopped at the blanket.
"…Why are there small burn marks on it?"
Rolin froze.
"…Decoration."
'Elegant fire-themed decoration,' Likath added proudly.
Kyle sat down on the chair and pulled a small metallic card from his pocket. Strange runes shifted slowly across its surface.
"Alright, let's keep this short. In Lucarina, registration isn't just about choosing classes."
Rolin focused on him.
"Then what is it?"
"It's about choosing a path," Kyle said. "And that path… determines your life."
He stood up and began explaining like someone who'd done this countless times.
"There are combat paths, magic paths, tactical paths, research paths… and then there are special paths."
He paused.
"…Paths only available to those who attract attention."
Rolin blinked.
"…And me?"
Kyle smiled faintly.
"You caught the attention of half the academy. And pissed off the other half."
Then, more seriously:
"That's an achievement."
Something stirred in Rolin's chest.
'Oh,' Likath said excitedly. 'Special paths. That's where the good stories start… or the massacres.'
"Likath."
'What? I'm optimistic.'
Rolin exhaled.
"So… what do I do now?"
Kyle handed him the metal card.
"This is a temporary registration pass. We're heading to the classification hall."
"…Classification?"
Kyle opened the door.
"Yeah. The place where the academy decides whether you're a student… or a problem."
Rolin swallowed.
"…Great. I like being a problem."
Kyle laughed.
"I knew you would."
They stepped into the corridor.
The academy was still half-asleep—dim light filtered through tall windows, and an uneasy silence lingered, the kind that comes before a storm.
From inside Rolin's chest—
'Get ready,' Likath said, his tone different. Sharper. 'Something will happen today.'
"…Is that intuition or a threat?"
'Both.'
Rolin smiled tiredly and walked beside Kyle toward the unknown.
They arrived at the hall.
And Rolin saw something… unexpected.
The hall was nothing like Kyle had described.
No towering platforms.
No floating crystal interfaces.
Just a classic registration hall.
Rows of desks.
Small numbered signs.
Students everywhere—whispers, footsteps, impatience filling the air.
Kyle chuckled quietly behind him, his look clearly saying:
See? You were expecting something epic.
Rolin ignored the mockery and focused on his goal: registering for the combat class.
The hall was packed—not only with new students, but also with those switching classes or withdrawing.
It was the second day.
The day people chose their path… or tested their luck.
Finally, it was his turn.
He stepped up to the desk.
And then—
Time slowed.
Standing beside him was a girl.
Sand-colored hair, like sunlight breaking through dust.
Cold gray eyes—sharp, calculating.
She was registering…
For the same class.
Selen.
Rolin's heart froze.
She wasn't just another student.
She wasn't just a classmate.
She was the girl who punched him.
The girl who taught him how powerful first impressions could be.
And clearly—she hadn't forgotten.
From inside him—
'Oh, the real fun begins,' Likath whispered.
'Let's see if two natural enemies can stand next to each other without chaos.'
Rolin pressed his lips together, forcing himself to breathe normally.
This wasn't a coincidence.
Selen was here.
In the same class.
And whatever was coming—he could already feel it.
The clerk's voice snapped him back to reality.
"Are you listening? Write your name and age here."
Rolin flinched, stared at the paper, then the pen…
Then at selen, standing beside him with terrifying calm.
He swallowed.
"Ah… sorry," he said, scratching the back of his head nervously.
"I've actually changed my mind. I don't want to register."
Silence.
The clerk slowly raised one eyebrow.
Then the other.
"…What?"
Even Kyle nearly choked behind him.
Celine stopped writing.
She lifted her head—slowly.
Her gray eyes locked onto Rolin.
One look was enough to make heat crawl up his spine.
From inside—
'Huh? Running away?' Likath teased.
'Bold choice… or a stupid one. Still deciding.'
Rolin turned as if to leave.
The clerk tapped the desk lightly.
"Wait."
Then coldly:
"Changing your mind after reaching the desk is recorded. Especially for combat classes."
Rolin stiffened.
"A record?"
"Yes. A note that could reach the director."
And at that moment—
Selen tilted her head slightly.
A faint smile appeared.
Not friendly.
Not hostile.
Dangerous.
"Strange," she said calmly, not even looking at the clerk.
"I didn't think you were the type to step back once you reached the line."
The words hit hard.
Rolin clenched his fist.
Inside him, Likath spoke—serious this time.
'If you back out now… this is how they'll remember you.'
Rolin took a deep breath.
Then turned back.
Returned to the desk.
Took the pen.
"…Give me the form."
The clerk smiled in quiet victory.
Selen resumed writing.
Her smile didn't fade.
Rolin read the paper carefully.
Too carefully.
Most of the fields had nothing to do with simple registration.
They were collecting information.
Real information.
He began filling it out quietly:
Name: Rolin
Family: Azir
Age: 17
Origin: — (left blank)
Magic: — (left blank)
Goal: Learn martial arts
He paused.
Every word felt like it was being carved into something permanent.
From within—
'Heh,' Likath scoffed.
'The only thing you wrote honestly is "combat." And that's what scares them the least.'
Rolin exhaled slowly.
Lucarina Academy… I've walked straight into the eye of the storm.
Behind him, selen's gaze never left him.
Then—
A calm but sharp voice spoke.
"Seventeen… and learning martial arts. Strange."
Rolin turned sharply.
Selen was staring directly at his paper.
"Hey!" he shouted, waving his hand.
"That's an invasion of privacy!"
She didn't step back.
A small smile played on her lips.
From inside—
'Yep,' Likath said amused.
'Your first day is far from over.'
Rolin felt the attention of nearby students shifting toward them.
"…If you want my information," he said tensely,
"you could just ask instead of reading it like you're some kind of mind reader."
Selen raised an eyebrow—but said nothing.
She simply watched him.
Then—
The air trembled.
Likath's voice burst from Rolin's chest, loud enough for everyone to hear:
"Slim, shameless bitch!"
Rolin froze.
Complete silence fell over the hall.
A few students snorted.
Others stared in shock.
Selen stopped writing.
Her gray eyes turned icy.
A dangerous smile appeared.
"…I'm not sure you understand what you just said."
Rolin grabbed his forehead.
"…Likath! What the—"
'I couldn't help it,' Likath said cheerfully.
'You needed excitement.'
Rolin inhaled sharply.
One thing was certain now—
His first day in the combat class…
Would be anything but peaceful.