Morning light filtered in through the high-arched windows of the dormitory hallway, golden and warm, but it did little to ease the whirlwind in my chest.
Master was already gone.
No dramatic farewell. No secret magical mark on my forehead. No public announcent declaring, "Behold! This fragile boy is now my chosen disciple!"
Just... a decision.
Spoken in the quiet of night, sealed with a smile, and followed by her departure at dawn.
We had agreed on a once-a-week schedule for guidance. Honestly? That was already more than I could ask for. The Mage Tower Lord—even just thinking that title out loud still made my insides twist—was one of the busiest figures in the realm. Her sparing even a sliver of ti for was ridiculous.
But perhaps even more ridiculous was how much I felt... lighter.
Like the world hadn’t beco simpler, but at least I wasn’t wandering through it alone anymore.
She didn’t announce it publicly, and I didn’t plan to either. Not for now.
Being her disciple wasn’t sothing I intended to flaunt. In a place like Arcadia, titles only painted targets on your back, especially ones tied to powerhouses. Until I was strong enough to carry the weight of that connection... I’d rather keep it close to the chest.
And besides, I had other things to focus on. Like not dying in class.
So I stuck to routine.
Physical training ca first. The usual circuit: sprints around the inner field, weapon drills, stretching until my body scread, then more saber katas. Dual sabers were still unfamiliar—more flair than finesse at this point—but I was slowly getting the rhythm.
Sweat clung to my neck by the end of it, and my arms felt like overcooked noodles. But I welcod the pain. It kept my thoughts grounded.
And, as if summoned by the laws of routine, she arrived.
Lilliane.
Like clockwork.
Polished uniform. Perfect posture. Pink tied back in a ponytail like it belonged on a portrait. And, as always, eyes that flicked toward with a mix of curiosity, confusion... and sothing unspoken.
We exchanged greetings—awkward ones, as usual.
I wasn’t exactly the best at conversation to begin with, but talking to Lilliane was like trying to hold a tea party while sitting on a ticking bomb. She said little. I said less. And yet, the silence was loud.
I never knew whether to thank her for watching over or apologize for surviving the selection ceremony in a way no one could understand.
Today was no different.
She asked if I was feeling well.
I answered that I was fine.
She asked if I was ready for today’s lecture.
I said "as ready as I’ll ever be."
And that was... it.
She left soon after, and I headed to the dining hall.
Arcadia’s cafeteria was already bustling by the ti I got there—students in pristine uniforms chattering over bread, fruits, and steaming mugs of tea. Sunlight poured through the enchanted glass ceiling, mimicking the morning sky even though it had been cloudy outside.
I grabbed a quick bite, ignored the stares, and finished eating with enough ti to clean up and slip into the uniform of Class A.
Freshly pressed. Crest of Arcadia stitched over the chest.
Ti for class.
As usual, I found my seat at the back corner of Class A’s lecture hall. The mont I sat down, Eric flopped into the seat beside with a grin that suggested he had either just escaped trouble or was about to cause so.
"Morning, partner in survival," he said.
I offered a small nod. "Morning."
Before either of us could say more, Professor Seraphina entered. Her presence quieted the entire room like a gust of cold wind.
She wore her usual pristine robes, white and trimd with athyst, her hair swept up in an elegant twist. Her expression was unreadable as ever—but today, there was a faint edge to it.
She walked to the front and tapped the board once. A line of glowing runes appeared behind her.
"Today," she said, "you will be undergoing a mock artificial dungeon test."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the class.
"This test will simulate real dungeon conditions," she continued, "and your performance will be calculated into your final sester evaluation. You are expected to cooperate, survive, and adapt. Exact details will be given on the test location."
Excitent bubbled across the room.
Students whispered eagerly, already speculating about the challenges they’d face. Would it be monster subjugation? A puzzle labyrinth? Survival with limited resources?
But ?
I just stared ahead, silent.
So it begins.
The second arc.
In every world, there are always people who worship the darkness. Cults. Fanatics. In this world, they worship the Devil Emperor.
Seven thousand years ago, the Devil Emperor was sealed. But his eight generals—his strongest servants—weren’t destroyed. Only scattered. Hidden. Recuperating in seclusion.
But the seal is weakening.
The generals are awakening.
Their power is beginning to return—not gradually, but exponentially. What once would have taken centuries, now will take re years. And as they stir from their ancient slumber, their loyal cults begin to rise with them.
They had always been here. Hidden. Patient. Waiting for the signal.
Now, that signal has co.
The signs are subtle—a surge in corrupted mana, disappearances in remote regions, whispers in the shadows. But for soone who knows the story, for soone who has seen this arc unfold before—those signs are clear.
So of the cultists have infiltrated kingdoms. So... noble houses. And one?
One of them is already here.
In this academy.
A hidden enemy. A ticking ti bomb.
The final boss of the second arc.
And everything begins with this dungeon test.
The lecture continued, but the atmosphere in the room had shifted. Whispers buzzed from row to row—students excited about their first real dungeon experience. Bragging about past mock battles. Wondering what kind of monsters or traps they’d encounter.
Laughter. Nervous excitent. Competitiveness.
None of them were prepared.
They still didn’t know what was truly coming.
Eventually, the lecture ca to an end. The room began to stir, students rising from their seats, still buzzing with anticipation.
But I stayed seated a mont longer.
Because the real test... hadn’t even started yet.
We arrived at the test location—an open training ground fused with ancient stone gates, arcane circles glowing faintly at their base. The dungeon’s entrance lood ahead, pulsing gently with a soft violet light.
A senior instructor floated up on a levitation disc and addressed the gathering crowd.
"This test will involve all roles—Knight, Mage, and Priest. You will be placed into teams of three, randomly chosen. Each team will consist of two first-years and one third-year senior who will serve as your guide."
Another wave of murmurs. So students looked thrilled, others worried.
"As this is your first ti entering an artificial dungeon, it will be monitored and regulated. You will be scored based on the number and strength of monsters defeated, teamwork, and how well you adapt to dungeon conditions."
He gestured to a table stacked with glimring wristbands.
"These wristbands will record your scores in real ti. They will also track your health. If your health drops below a critical threshold, you will be automatically ejected from the dungeon."
A pause. Then, sharply: "Everything clear?"
A chorus of nods and "Yes, Instructor!" followed.
Everything was going according to script. Now the main characters—Aiden, Lilly, and Vincent (my charming, overachieving brother)—will be in a team. Kyle and Selena will be grouped with another senior
"Good. Teams have been randomly assigned. Check your wristbands now."
I looked down at mine.
Tapped it once.
I blinked.
...You’ve got to be kidding . Where did things go wrong again?
Team mbers: — 1st Year: Luca Valentina — 1st Year: Lilliane Fairmoore — 3rd Year: Elowen Aeryllis
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