Luminae Conservatory Of Magic (4)
*****
In a dimly lit room, the flickering glow of a single candle cast elongated shadows along the wooden walls.
A young teenager with tousled blonde hair sat in a sturdy chair, his posture rigid as he stared intently at the parchment in his hands.
The warm, wavering light illuminated his sharp features, reflecting off his narrowed eyes as he read the words inscribed upon the paper.
-_-_-
Mr. Eugene Beethoven,
We are pleased to inform you that your entrance examination for the Luminae Conservatory of Magic has been successfully accepted by the academy. We eagerly anticipate your arrival on 2nd Sunlight Day, Year 1259.
—Headmaster of the Luminae Conservatory of Magic
_-_-_
Eugene remained silent, his fingers tightening around the letter as he absorbed the significance of its contents.
The prestigious academy—known for producing some of the greatest magic wielders in history—had officially accepted him.
Yet, instead of excitement, a strange sense of unease settled in his chest.
His gaze lingered on the name at the bottom of the letter, his mind racing with thoughts.
"So, I made it in... But what awaits me once I step into that place?"
The candle's flame wavered slightly as a faint breeze passed through the room, rustling the edges of the parchment.
Eugene's expression darkened.
"No matter what… I'll make sure I don't just survive there. I'll rise above the rest."
*****
Amon strode along the bustling streets of the Velmigton city, his polished boots clicking softly against the cobblestone pavement.
He was clad in a finely tailored Victorian-era steampunk suit—its deep gray fabric adorned with intricate silver embroidery along the cuffs and collar.
A matching waistcoat hugged his frame beneath the fitted coat, and brass buttons gleamed under the morning light.
Perched atop his head was a sleek, wide-brimmed hat, its shadow casting a subtle veil over his face.
Beneath it, strands of his white hair peeked out, a stark contrast against the dark fabric.
Though his striking features were partially concealed, the air of quiet confidence he exuded made him stand out nonetheless.
The city around him buzzed with life—merchants shouting their wares, steam-powered carriages hissing as they rolled past, and the rhythmic clang of blacksmiths shaping metal in the distance.
Towering buildings, a fusion of gothic architecture and mechanical ingenuity, loomed over the streets, their chimneys billowing thin trails of smoke into the crisp morning air.
Gears and pipes lined the alleyways, feeding energy to the countless contraptions that kept the city thriving.
Amon kept his stride steady, his eyes scanning his surroundings beneath the brim of his hat.
His gloved hands remained tucked into his coat pockets as he navigated through the sea of pedestrians.
Though outwardly composed, his mind was anything but.
"The Luminae Conservatory of Magic..."
He mused to himself.
"That letter confirmed it—this is truly the world of the novel. And now, I'm walking toward the very place where it all begins."
As he turned a corner, the towering silhouette of the academy's grand spires came into view in the distance, standing proudly against the backdrop of the sky.
"Haaaa....."
Amon exhaled slowly, adjusting the brim of his hat.
As Amon walked closer, the Luminae Conservatory of Magic loomed before him in all its grandeur.
The academy was a breathtaking fusion of Gothic architecture and intricate steampunk design, exuding an air of both ancient mysticism and modern ingenuity.
The Academy Exterior was out of the world itself;
The massive wrought-iron gates stood tall before him, adorned with intricate silver filigree in the shape of swirling arcane runes that pulsed faintly with an inner glow.
Engraved at the top was the academy's crest, depicting an open grimoire encircled by a blazing sun and a crescent moon, symbolizing the balance of knowledge, power, and time.
Beyond the gates, a wide, meticulously paved stone pathway stretched ahead, lined with luminescent street lamps that flickered with ethereal blue flames—an ever-burning magical energy that illuminated the academy grounds even at night.
The main building itself was a towering marvel, constructed from black onyx stone and reinforced with enchanted brass inlays that shimmered subtly with protective enchantments.
Tall, narrow stained-glass windows lined the facade, each depicting legendary figures of magic from history, their solemn gazes seeming to follow those who passed below. Massive clockwork gears, embedded within the building's structure, rotated in silent precision, seamlessly integrating the mechanical with the mystical.
At the academy's highest point, four grand spires reached toward the sky, each representing one of the primary disciplines of magic—Elementalism, Alchemy, Enchantment, and Arcane Theory.
At the center of them floated a massive, glowing orb, crackling with shifting hues of magical energy, serving as a beacon visible from anywhere in the city.
As he enters the Entrance Plaza he was speechless at the sight.
He found himself in a sprawling courtyard paved with white marble tiles, inlaid with golden patterns forming intricate magic circles.
Small fountains, their waters shimmering unnaturally with hues of violet and cerulean, lined the pathway leading to the academy's grand doors.
Students in finely tailored robes and uniforms bustled about, some levitating books with telekinesis, others practicing small incantations as they conversed.
Above the towering double doors, a massive golden plaque bore the academy's motto, elegantly inscribed in an ancient language:
"Sapientia et Potentia—Wisdom and Power."
As he took in the awe-inspiring sight, his breath hitched slightly.
"Whoa..."
He muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper.
Even though he had read about the Luminae Conservatory of Magic countless times before in the text-based version in the novel, standing before it in person was an entirely different experience.
The sheer majesty and weight of history embedded in every stone, every rune, and every whisper of magic in the air made it clear—
This was no ordinary institution.
This was the pinnacle of magical education.
And now, he was about to become a part of it.
Amon had already witnessed the sheer number of students roaming across the academy grounds, their voices blending into a steady hum of chatter and excitement.
The courtyard was teeming with life—aspiring mages of all backgrounds hurried along the marble pathways, some levitating books beside them while others conjured small sparks of magic in casual demonstrations.
But what truly caught his attention was the diversity among them.
It wasn't just humans—there were half-elves, their pointed ears peeking through silken hoods as they conversed in hushed tones.
Some bore the characteristic golden irises of high elven heritage, while others had the more subtle features of wood elves, blending seamlessly into the crowd.
Further along, he spotted a towering beastkin, his feline ears twitching as he laughed heartily at something his companion had said.
A group of dwarves, shorter yet stockier than the others, sat on a nearby bench, seemingly debating over an enchantment theory written in glowing runes before them.
Even a few scaled folk, their shimmering reptilian eyes betraying their draconic lineage, were present—an unusual but not unheard-of sight.
Amon exhaled softly, his lips curling into a knowing smirk.
"It's just as I expected."
The novel had described the Luminae Conservatory of Magic as a melting pot of races and talents—a place where bloodline and heritage mattered far less than one's ability to wield magic.
And now, standing amidst the bustling crowd of students, he could see it for himself.
His fingers instinctively adjusted the brim of his hat, concealing his striking white hair as he observed his surroundings.
There was an unspoken energy in the air, a mix of curiosity, ambition, and tension—every student here had a purpose, a goal to strive for.
Amon muttered softly under his breath, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of his coat as he stepped further into the heart of the campus.
"System Open."
The moment the words left his lips, a soft, resonant hum filled the air around him.
The world seemed to momentarily shift, as though something intangible had unlocked within his vision.
Fwang—!
A translucent, azure-hue glowing interface materialized before his eyes, its edges shimmering with faint sparks of energy.
The system's design was sleek and minimalistic—floating blue icons and text scrolled across the space in front of him, an intricate web of menus and options that only he could see.
At the top, in bold lettering, was his status screen:
===[System]===
->Name: Amon Von Lancaster
->Age: 18
->Race: Human
->Class: Transmigrator
->Level: 0
->Experience Points: (0/100)
->Title: Not yet classified
->Job: Jobless
->Affinity: Void
->(Mana usage: 1.5 Points)
==={Attributes}===
->Strength: 0.2
->Speed: 0.1
->Stamina: 0.1
->Agility: 0.3
->Detoxify: 0.4
->Durability: 0.2
->Instincts: 0.2
->Reflexes: 0.1
->Intelligence: 0.8
->Mana Points: 2
===|Skills|===
->Passive Skill: Void Aura {Always on}
->Skill: Appraisal
->Black Heart (Seal)
===ΠSkill InformationΠ===
->Passive Skill—Void Aura:
->[Void Aura is a passive skill that allows the user to emanate a powerful, menacing aura without active control.
This aura exudes an overwhelming sense of pressure and dark energy, often described as "evil" or "malignant" in nature.
Its very presence can cause even the most formidable opponents to freeze in terror, paralyzing them with fear and rendering them momentarily petrified.
The strength of the aura can vary, but in its full intensity, it can suppress the will and movement of even the most powerful individuals, leaving them vulnerable and defenseless.]
->Skill—Appraisal:
->[Appraisal is a skill that the user can activate at will, enhancing their senses by doubling their perception.
This heightened awareness allows them to effortlessly detect the presence of others, along with their aura and any killing intent, without needing to focus.
In addition, Appraisal provides the ability to analyze and view the stats, skills, and attributes of those around them, offering a detailed understanding of others' abilities and strengths with minimal effort.]
->Skill—Black Heart (Seal):
->[It will activate automatically once the host ■■Erro■■]
===[Fighting Styles]===
->???■■
->Brute Strength
->Unrefined
->Raw
->Animal Instincts
->Unconscious State/Instincts
===|Fighting Styles information|===
->???:
->[Unknown fighting style. The system fails to recognize this approach, as it doesn't align with any of the established techniques or combat forms cataloged within its database.
It is an unorthodox method that defies the usual categories. Error.]
->Brute Strength:
->[The fighter relies solely on brute force in battle, using raw physical power without any formal technique or strategy.
This unorthodox approach doesn't fit within the system's usual classifications, causing an error in its processing.]
->Unrefined:
->[It's a fighting style characterized by raw, instinctive movements driven by pure aggression and brute force.
The practitioner relies on overwhelming physical strength rather than refined technique, often using powerful, unrestrained strikes and unpredictable, spontaneous actions.
This style is more about imposing power than following strategy, with the fighter depending on their ability to outlast or overpower opponents.
While it can catch others off guard, it lacks finesse, leaving the fighter vulnerable to those with more calculated or disciplined approaches.]
->Raw:
->[A raw fighting style is one that emphasizes unrefined, instinct-driven techniques, often relying on sheer physical power and primal aggression rather than strategy or technique.
It's a chaotic, unpredictable approach where the fighter uses their body as a weapon, throwing powerful, forceful strikes with little regard for precision or control.
Movements are often wild and reactive, driven by raw emotion and survival instincts.
Though effective in close combat, it leaves the fighter open to counterattacks due to its lack of discipline and technique.]
->Animal Instincts:
->[It is a style that revolves entirely around survival instinct, where the user's mind shifts to that of a wild beast, abandoning any sense of control or structured technique.
In this state, the fighter becomes a primal force, relying on raw aggression and desperation to overpower their opponent.
The user's movements become erratic and savage, using every part of their body as a weapon—scratching and tearing at the opponent with their nails, biting with teeth, and using their fists in brutal, unrestrained strikes.
The style is all about sheer will to survive, with no concern for rules or tactics.
It's a vicious, animalistic approach to combat, driven by a singular goal: defeat the enemy by any means necessary, no matter how brutal or unrefined.
The user taps into their most primal instincts, fighting with the ferocity of a cornered animal.]
->Unconscious State/Instincts
->[This is not a fighting style but rather a state that occurs when the body loses consciousness and moves autonomously, without the brain's control.
In this state, the user's consciousness is entirely disconnected from their body, which continues to function on its own, driven solely by instinct.
The body no longer feels any pain, as the user's mind is not aware of the physical sensations.
While unconscious, the body can adjust its strength to match that of the opponent's stats, creating a balanced combat scenario, allowing it to fight on par with more powerful foes despite the user's lack of awareness.
The physical appearance of the body subtly changes in this state; the most notable alteration is in the eyes, which shift into a reverse form—perhaps glowing or appearing entirely different from the user's usual gaze—signifying the complete disconnection from the conscious self.
The transformation is unsettling, as the body moves with a kind of predatory instinct, yet remains entirely unaware of its own actions.]
==={Main System}===
->System Store ∆
->System Inventory: (0/∞)Items
->System Points: 0
->System Currency: 50
->System Quest: 0/0
===[System]===
Amon stared at the system interface once more, his fingers lightly hovering over the screen as he processed the information.
There was something undeniably satisfying about seeing his status laid out in such an organized way.
It gave him a sense of clarity, even if it also served as a reminder of just how much he still had to learn.
The Transmigrator class felt both familiar and strange, a class that shows his true nature
He had been an anomaly before, but now, it seemed as if the very fabric of his existence was tied to something greater than the novel he had once read.
"Hmm... last time my class was anomaly, right?"
He muttered to himself, fingers flicking through the options.
The system responded smoothly, the menus shifting as if obeying his every thought.
His gaze drifted over to the Appraisal skill.
It seemed useful, certainly—being able to assess others' abilities without them noticing was a strategic advantage.
But then, his eyes fell upon the Black Heart (Seal).
What was it?
What kind of skill was this, and why was it sealed?
The system hadn't given him any answers, just a broken message—"Erro".
"The Appraisal skill is good, but what is this Black Heart?"
He muttered again, frustration creeping into his tone.
It was a question he would have to explore later.
He scrolled to the element section.
Void.
A shiver ran down his spine as the word appeared on the screen.
He had never come across it in the novel.
Not once.
There had been fire, water, wind, and even rare elements like light or dark—but void? That was something completely foreign to him.
"Void? Never heard of this before in the novel,"
He murmured to himself, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity.
He would have to figure out how this strange affinity worked.
Then, with a dismissive shrug, he moved on.
The inventory was empty, which felt odd considering all the powerful artifacts he had read about in the novel.
Where were they?
Perhaps they would come later, or perhaps the system was limiting him to start fresh, just like the protagonist of the story.
His fingers danced across the screen once again as he explored the rest of the system's features, but there was no doubt that this would be a slow journey to unlock the mysteries hidden within.
Still, it didn't faze him. In fact, the realization was strangely comforting.
He was starting from nothing, and that was exactly what he needed.
No powerful weapons, no connections, just his wits, his skills, and the potential that the system promised.
"Haaa...."
Amon took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the academy around him.
The towering walls, the distant chatter of students, the myriad of races, and the hum of magic in the air—everything seemed full of promise and danger.
"I feel like I, itself, is the protagonist of someone else's story,"
He said aloud, a wry smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
It was both a joke and a thought that resonated deeply within him.
Perhaps this was all part of the grand narrative—the story of someone who had been pulled from another world and thrust into a new one, just like the characters he had once read about.
The possibilities were endless.
The path ahead was his to carve, and he had the tools—albeit limited ones—for the task.
*****
Ahh~
Damn complex. But the system is eating up the word count fr
2.8k words 🗿☠️