The First Class (3)

*****

Amon, along with Eugene and the rest of Class C, found themselves standing in the middle of a vast hall, its towering walls constructed from gothic rock stone.

The architecture loomed over them with an almost oppressive grandeur, the dim lighting from enchanted sconces casting long shadows across the worn stone floor.

It was clear at a glance that this place was no ordinary hall—it was a battleground.

The floor bore countless marks of past skirmishes, deep cracks running through the stone where powerful spells had likely clashed.

Along the far end, racks of wooden weapons stood in an orderly row, accompanied by training dummies that had long since been battered beyond recognition.

Despite the room's sheer size, the air felt dense, almost suffocating, as though it carried the weight of all the battles that had taken place here before.

Amon's gaze flickered toward the ceiling—far above, ancient chandeliers hung precariously, their flickering flames enchanted to burn eternally.

The eerie glow they emitted only added to the gothic atmosphere, making it feel as though this hall had been ripped straight from the pages of a war chronicle.

"This place…"

He muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

It was nowhere in the novel he had read.

A training ground like this, filled with such a sense of history and conflict, hadn't been mentioned even once.

This deviation from the story was becoming more apparent with each passing moment.

Professor Selene stood at the center of the hall, her piercing golden eyes scanning the gathered students with an air of expectation.

She didn't need to raise her voice to command attention—the sheer authority she carried made sure of that.

"This is the Trial Hall,"

She finally spoke, her voice echoing against the stone walls.

"It is where students of Luminae Conservatory undergo physical evaluations, combat training, and magical aptitude tests. Before any of you dare to call yourselves mages, you must first prove that your bodies are capable of withstanding the burdens of magic."

A murmur spread through the group.

Many of the students had likely assumed that magical training relied solely on intelligence and mana control.

The idea that their physical capabilities would be tested as well came as an unwelcome surprise.

Amon, however, was already expecting something like this.

Magic isn't just about casting spells—it's about survival.

A strong body meant a greater chance of enduring prolonged battles, of maintaining mana flow without collapsing from exhaustion.

Any school worth its name would test both mind and body.

"You will all be tested individually,"

Selene continued, gesturing toward the far side of the hall.

"Your strength, endurance, agility, and combat ability will be evaluated. Whether you wield magic or not, your worth as a mage begins with the foundation of your body."

At those words, several students visibly paled.

"Combat ability?"

One of them whispered.

"I thought we'd be focusing on spellcasting first!"

Selene's expression darkened.

"Do you believe that your enemies will stand still while you chant spells?"

She asked coldly, her gaze sharp enough to cut through their hesitation.

"Or that you'll always have time to prepare before a fight?"

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Amon didn't react outwardly, but he could already sense that this would be far more troublesome than he originally expected.

He had no issue with physical training—his body was still adapting to this new world, but it wasn't weak.

The real problem… was how this would force him into the spotlight.

For now, he had wanted to stay as low-profile as possible.

But if this test was designed to showcase their abilities, then hiding would not be an option.

But what could he even hide?

He didn't even have anything other than—

Ding—!

A sudden chime echoed in his mind, the familiar sound of the system alerting him to something new.

[Tutorial Quest Completed: Join Luminae Conservatory Of Magic]

'What? When did this quest even started?'

[Reward: Passive Skill: Ekdysis]

Amon's eyes widened slightly as the next notification unfolded before him.

[Skill Information: Automatically learns very basic versions of physical and mana aptitude after seeing them once.]

[Cooldown: 10 Hours]

Amon stilled.

A mimicry skill?

His heart pounded as he reread the description.

At first glance, it didn't sound particularly powerful—it only allowed him to learn basic versions of techniques, and it came with a ten-hour cooldown.

But the implications were far more significant than they seemed.

If he could watch a skilled swordsman perform a technique, his body would instinctively grasp the fundamentals.

If he observed a mage casting a spell, he would gain an elementary understanding of the process.

It was an ability that allowed him to evolve—slowly, steadily, but inevitably.

And the most important part?

It required no effort on his part.

Unlike the protagonist, Eugene, who had to train tirelessly to master his techniques, Amon's body would automatically start adapting, even if at a basic level.

He wouldn't instantly become a master, but given time and enough observations, he could surpass even the most gifted students without them ever realizing how.

His fingers twitched slightly, suppressing the urge to grin.

This… wasn't in the novel.

This wasn't something he remembered being available to the protagonist or any of the major characters.

It wasn't in the system's framework as he understood it.

Amon had already expected some differences due to his Anomaly class and Transmigrator status, but this?

This was beyond what he had anticipated.

"Sigh."

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.

He couldn't afford to react too much, not here, not now.

Then,

[Skill Importing...]

[3...2...1...]

[Skill Importing Successful]

Amon barely had time to react before a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his skull.

"Ggghh—!"

He groaned, his body tensing as an overwhelming flood of information rushed into his mind.

It wasn't just knowledge—it was as if his muscles, his nerves, his very instincts were being rewritten to accommodate something entirely new.

A dull throb echoed in his temples as the system forcefully integrated the skill into his body.

It felt like a thousand tiny needles were piercing through his brain, embedding foreign understanding into his thoughts.

For a split second, his vision blurred. His breathing hitched.

His balance wavered.

Then—just as suddenly as it came—the pain faded.

Amon exhaled sharply, steadying himself as he pressed a hand to his temple.

His fingers trembled slightly, but he forced them to still.

It took him a moment to fully compose his stature.

No one had noticed his brief struggle—thankfully.

The other students were too preoccupied with their own nerves about the assessment.

He flexed his fingers experimentally.

Then he was cutt off when a sound came.

He discreetly dismissed the system window, just as the instructor—Selene—clapped her hands, commanding the attention of the students.

"We will begin the assessment now."

Her voice was crisp, authoritative, and carried the weight of someone who tolerated no nonsense.

Her golden eyes swept across the room, lingering momentarily on Amon before continuing.

"Step forward when your name is called."

One by one, students stepped forward to display their physical capabilities.

Some were strong, others barely managed to pass the minimum requirements.

Amon remained silent, observing every movement, every technique, every spell cast during the assessment.

His newly acquired skill burned in the back of his mind.

He had no intention of standing out.

But with Ekdysis, something told him that staying unnoticed would be far harder than he thought.

Then, there was it.

"Amon Von Lancaster, come up"

*****