Morning came too quietly.
Sunlight filtered through tall glass windows, casting long shadows across a spacious stone room. I opened my eyes slowly, already alert.
This wasn't the slums.
The bed beneath me was clean. Too clean. The air smelled faintly of incense and polished wood. A neatly folded academy uniform rested on a chair nearby—black and gray, trimmed with silver thread.
Student quarters.
So it was official.
I sat up, stretching slightly. My body still ached from yesterday's backlash, but the pain was dull now—manageable.
The blade remained silent.
Suppressed.
Hidden.
Good.
A bell echoed through the academy grounds, deep and resonant.
"First day," I muttered.
Outside, the academy was alive.
Students filled the wide stone paths—some chatting excitedly, others walking in disciplined silence. Nobles stood out immediately, moving in groups, their confidence almost tangible. Commoners lingered at the edges, careful not to draw attention.
Nothing had changed.
Power still decided everything.
As I walked, conversations subtly shifted around me.
"Is that him?"
"They say he killed a Guardian…"
"No way—that was exaggerated…"
Eyes followed me.
Some curious.
Some fearful.
Some openly hostile.
I ignored them.
The main hall loomed ahead—massive doors engraved with the academy crest standing wide open. Inside, hundreds of new students gathered, filling the tiered seating.
At the front stood several instructors.
And one familiar face.
The blue-eyed woman.
Her gaze found me instantly.
Not aggressive.
Evaluating.
I took a seat near the back.
Moments later, the silver-haired instructor stepped forward.
"Welcome," he said, voice carrying effortlessly. "From today onward, you are no longer examinees. You are students of the Blackstone Combat Academy."
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
"This academy does not exist to make heroes," he continued. "It exists to make survivors."
That shut everyone up.
"You will be divided into classes based on potential and performance," he said. "Ranks are fluid. Advancement is earned—not gifted."
A projection appeared in the air, listing names.
One by one, students were assigned.
Class C.
Class B.
Class A.
When my name appeared, the room went silent.
Kai — Special Observation Class
Whispers exploded.
"What does that mean?"
"Is that above Class A?"
"Or below?"
I frowned slightly.
Special, huh.
The silver-haired instructor glanced in my direction.
"Those in Special Observation," he said calmly, "are neither privileged nor punished."
The blue-eyed woman smiled faintly.
"You are simply… watched."
Great.
After the assembly, students dispersed toward their assigned areas.
I didn't follow the crowd.
Instead, an attendant led me down a separate corridor—quieter, older. The walls here were etched with sealing runes far more complex than the ones above.
We stopped before a door.
Inside, only four desks.
Three were already occupied.
The moment I stepped in, every head turned.
A tall boy with sharp eyes and neatly tied hair leaned back in his chair, smirking.
A quiet girl with silver hair glanced up briefly, then returned to reading.
And in the corner, a broad-shouldered boy stared at me openly, curiosity mixed with caution.
So these were the others.
Special cases.
The tall boy spoke first. "So you're Kai."
I met his gaze.
"And you are?"
He grinned. "Your problem. Name's Ren."
The blade stirred faintly.
Not hostile.
But interested.
I took the empty seat.
The door closed behind me with a heavy click.
Somewhere deep within the academy, mechanisms shifted—old ones, rarely used.
The first day had begun.
And already—
I could tell.
This class wouldn't stay quiet for long.