Ren watched the center of the plaza from the shadows of a pillar. Leo Thorne stood his ground, gripping the hilt of his rusted training sword. The boy looked different from the 2D sprite Ren had spent years controlling. He looked solid, focused, and radiated a natural pressure that most of the students hadn't even noticed yet.
'He's a lot more imposing in person than he was on a 1080p screen.'
Kaelen, the noble bully, sneered and lunged forward. His hand glowed with a faint, flickering red light as he attempted to grab Leo's collar with a heat-enhanced grip. Leo didn't flinch. He pivoted on his left foot, letting Kaelen's momentum carry him past. With a precise, rhythmic movement, Leo drove the pommel of his sword into Kaelen's ribs.
The air left Kaelen's lungs in a pathetic wheeze. He stumbled, gasping for air, but Leo wasn't finished. The protagonist stepped into the noble's space and swept his front leg out from under him. Kaelen hit the stone floor hard, his expensive silk cape tangling around his legs.
Ren suppressed a scoff. 'Idiotic nobles. Why would they even pick a fight with a special admission student on the first day? They're literally just asking to be used as character development. God, he's actually cool to watch in real life.'
As Ren turned to head toward his next class, a massive shadow blocked his path. He looked up, squinting against the sun. A boy stood there, easily 6 feet 2 inches tall with short, spiky blue hair and arms that looked like they were carved from granite. He wore the same commoner-tier uniform as Leo, but he filled it out much better.
'Shit. That's Silas. Another one of Leo's childhood friends and the future heavy hitter of the party.'
"You," Silas growled, his voice deep and vibrating in Ren's chest. "What are you doing over here? You looking to pick on my friend too?"
Ren looked at the giant, then at the exit, then back at the giant. He didn't have the stats to win a fight, and he certainly didn't have the energy to explain himself.
"Aha, no. I'm just heading back to my next class. Bye," Ren said, waving a hand dismissively as he moved around Silas.
Silas stood there, blinking in confusion. "He's strange."
Ren hurried away, but as he passed the back of the fountain, he spotted Kaelen and his cronies huddled together. they were sitting on a bench, nursing their bruised egos with a glass bottle of expensive, amber-colored liquor.
The scent hit Ren instantly. It had been months since he had tasted anything stronger than tea. In his past life, alcohol was the only thing that made the hospital walls bearable. He walked straight up to them.
The nobles jumped, their faces turning pale when they saw the "Cyprian Gaunt" scowl. Even if his stats were trash, his family name still carried a terrifying reputation for cruelty.
"Hand it over," Ren said, pointing at the bottle.
Kaelen didn't even argue. He practically shoved the bottle into Ren's hands, terrified that the disgraced noble was about to vent his frustrations on them. Ren took a long, heavy pull from the bottle, the burn of the liquid settling his frayed nerves. He didn't stop at one sip. He kept walking, taking the bottle with him.
By the time he reached the Magic Practical hall, the world was starting to tilt. His eyes were heavy, his cheeks felt hot, and a dull, pleasant buzz hummed in his ears. He stumbled through the double doors, his footsteps uneven.
The classroom was filled with students standing around stone pedestals. Silence fell over the room as Ren entered. He looked a mess, his collar undone and his eyes glazed over.
'What is this fool doing? He's actually drunk?' The whispers started immediately, but Ren barely heard them.
His mind was drifting back to a cold room filled with the smell of antiseptic. He remembered the doctor's face when he gave the diagnosis. A terminal disease with no name, just a slow decay of the nervous system. Two years. That was all he had been given. He had spent those two years trapped in a bed, playing Aurelion Academy because it was the only world where he could actually move.
The sudden sound of heavy boots hitting the floor snapped him back to the present. A tall woman with grey hair tied in a sharp bun stood at the front of the room. She looked at Ren, then at the bottle peeking out of his pocket, her expression unreadable.
"Since it seems some of you are already too comfortable in a classroom setting," the teacher announced, her voice like a whip, "we will be moving this session outside. Follow me to the training grounds."
Ren leaned against a pedestal, trying to keep his balance.
'Great. I forgot this was a school and I can't drink here.'