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Now reading: Chapter 117 - The Club Fair? from The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He?, a Fantasy novel by WishToTransmigrate.

The morning sun rose gently over Arcadia Academy, casting golden rays across the dew-drenched training grounds. The sky was clear, the clouds scattered like distant dreams, and the soft chirping of birds echoed faintly in the quiet calm.

Luca stood alone on the field, his breath visible in the early chill, muscles tense and focused. His coat had been tossed aside, revealing his sweat-soaked shirt clinging to his fra. The sound of his boots thudding rhythmically against the dirt echoed in sync with the swish of his twin sabers slicing through the air.

Left slash. Right twist. Step, duck, spin.

His eyes were sharp, unwavering. Each movent was calculated, not just for precision, but for purpose. He wasn’t training for the sake of form—he was preparing for the next inevitable battle.

He finally ca to a halt, his chest heaving as he drew in a slow breath, sheathing his blades with a satisfying click. His dark violet hair was tousled, sticking to his forehead. As he bent forward, wiping his face with a towel, he heard the faintest of footsteps behind him—light, precise, almost as if the ground welcod them.

He turned, already sensing who it might be.

There she stood—an elven girl with flowing green hair and sharp red eyes that seed to shimr in the morning light like rubies under glass. Her presence was serene, but playful. Elowen.

"Good morning, Senior Elowen," Luca greeted with a small smile, straightening up and resting his sabers against his shoulders.

Elowen returned the smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her pointed ear. "Good morning... my popular junior."

Luca chuckled, glancing aside as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, it’s the bad kind of popularity, I’d say."

Elowen giggled softly, placing a hand on her hip. "Hehe. Who said it’s bad, Mr. ’The mont we falter’?"

He blinked. The laughter in his throat caught mid-breath. "What’s with the na—" he paused, expression tightening, eyes narrowing. "Wait. How do you know that?"

His mind raced. Did soone record that? Were those damn clicks in the back—no, no...

Elowen simply winked and turned on her heels. "Follow ."

She didn’t wait for a response, her hair swaying gently behind her as she walked off with an air of mystery. Luca stood frozen for a second, then sighed and grabbed his coat, slinging it over one shoulder as he jogged to catch up.

They strolled through the stone-paved corridors of the academy, where early risers passed by with stolen glances and whispers. Eventually, they arrived at a long hallway lined with noticeboards, so freshly pasted with dozens of sheets and flyers fluttering faintly in the breeze from nearby open windows.

Elowen stopped in front of a glass-frad poster and tapped her finger against it. "Here. Read it."

Luca, confused, stepped closer. The paper was printed neatly and titled in bold ink:

"The Mont We Falter, We Let Darkness Win – A First-Year’s Roar Against Hesitation"

Just below the tagline was a photograph—his photograph—captured mid-speech from yesterday. His expression was intense, hand raised, eyes fierce with emotion.

His face twitched slightly. "...Did that reporter sneak into the academy as well?" he muttered under his breath.

Elowen burst into laughter, covering her mouth as she leaned against the wall. "No, my cute junior. Haven’t you heard of the Journalist Club?"

Luca blinked... then groaned as realization dawned on him.

He smacked his palm to his forehead. "Right... the clubs." Damn. How could I forget sothing that important?"

Elowen smiled, her voice turning gently teasing. "You’ve been a little... occupied lately."

He let out a breath, his gaze shifting toward the rows of posters. His thoughts wandered—how much had he forgot? How long had he been focused solely on survival and missions?

She took a step forward, folding her arms behind her back. "Have you decided which club you’re going to join then?"

Luca tilted his head, genuinely caught off guard. "Is it already that ti? And the academy’s allowing it even in this situation?"

As he thought. All the events are changing, the devil cult has been uncovered way too early, so should it be allowed?

Elowen nodded. "They have to. These clubs have legacy. They’re more than just after-class fun—they’re networks. In tis like these, they also serve as support systems. Places to rest, connect... and rember we’re still students too."

Luca looked thoughtful. He understood what she ant. They weren’t just warriors. They were kids learning to grow... together.

Elowen’s crimson eyes sparkled as she leaned in slightly with a sly grin. "So, are you interested in joining my Botanical Club?"

Luca chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow as he glanced at Elowen. "What are you trying to do, poach early or sothing?"

Elowen laughed, her red eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe~ Who knows, you might find peace among plants. Anyway, next Monday is the club fair. First-years get to choose the club they want to join then. See you there, Mr. Popular."

She offered a playful wave and turned, her footsteps light as leaves rustling in the breeze, fading into the hallway. Luca stood there for a mont, lips curled in a half-smile, before exhaling slowly.

"Clubs, huh?" he muttered as he turned to head back. "When I played as Aiden, there wasn’t much choice... but now..."

He walked through the quiet corridors, his boots echoing faintly against the stone tiles. As he entered his dorm room, he tugged off his sweat-soaked shirt, letting it fall to the ground, then peeled away the rest of his training clothes. He stepped into the cold shower, the icy water biting into his skin. A sharp exhale escaped his lips, but then he relaxed, letting the stream soothe his tensed muscles.

Minutes later, Luca stepped out, steam curling in the air around him. He dried off briskly and changed into his pristine Arcadia uniform, buttoning it with practiced ease. The golden trim of the academy crest shimred faintly on his chest.

By the ti he reached Class A’s room, the lecture hall was already abuzz with chatter and movent. His classmates had gathered earlier than usual.

He walked in, as he saw his friends gathered around his desks, brow raised. "What are you all doing here?"

Aiden looked up first, his tone sincere. "Thank you for yesterday, Luca. I realized sothing... being softhearted to those cultists—it’s just ignorance."

Kyle, seated behind him with arms crossed, nodded firmly. "Yup. Next ti I see one, I won’t hesitate. Now I finally understand why my sister didn’t blink while cutting them down on the last mission."

Selena gave a quiet nod, her hands folded neatly on her desk. "I was... feeling sowhat guilty. But now? I don’t."

Luca’s eyes moved to Lilliane. She hadn’t said a word, but her silence wasn’t empty. Her gaze was firm. Her posture—straight and proud. The subtle way she clenched her fists on her lap spoke volus. She’d made up her mind.

He turned to Eric, arching a brow. "What about you? Nothing to say?"

Eric gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "I’m always gonna stay far away from cultists, thank you very much. But don’t worry—I’ll immortalize your badassery with my pen-weapon. Luca the Cult-Slaying Blade Dancer. Has a nice ring to it, right?"

The room burst into laughter, the tension of the previous day finally easing into sothing warm and shared.

But the mont was cut short as the door swung open.

"Silence."

Seraphina’s voice was calm but commanding. She stepped in with her usual grace, blue hair tied in a bun, her sharp eyes scanning the room.

Everyone fell into their seats swiftly. Luca leaned back, resting his chin in his palm as the lecture began. The words blurred for him—lessons about tactical formations, mana flow ratios, and elental channeling. All important, yes. But he knew all of it.

Eventually, Seraphina closed her to with a light thud.

"Enjoy your weekend. Rest. Study. And prepare yourselves," she said. "Because on Monday, we’ll be hosting the annual Club Fair. It is compulsory for all first-years to join a club. That is all—class dismissed."

A murmur of excitent swept through the students like a sudden breeze, igniting buzz and chatter across the room.

Eric leaned in, his grin wide. "So, which club are you interested in joining?"

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