The First Class

DING! DING! RING! RING!

The alarm screamed through the room like an unwelcome drill sergeant.

"Ugh, what is that sound…" I groaned, fumbling to shut it off. My hand found the clock, and I squinted at the glowing numbers.

8:50 AM.

"8:50?! Shit!"

I bolted upright, panic surging through me. My first class at Astrea Academy started at 9:00.

Scrambling out of bed, I nearly tripped over the VR pod in my rush. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of my uniform, the fog of sleep making everything harder.

Shoes. Bag. 8:55.

I tore through the grand hallways, weaving around other students with less chaotic mornings.

Polished marble floors gleamed beneath glowing sconces that cast a soft light, and intricate carvings lined the walls. Normally, I'd marvel at the beauty. Right now, I cursed it. Everything about this academy was grand, which meant everything was massive.

"Move, move!" I muttered, dodging a group of leisurely walking first-years.

skidded to a halt outside the classroom door, my lungs burning. Pushing it open, I stepped inside, greeted by silence and a sea of eyes staring at me.

The room was as grand as the hallways. High ceilings, bookshelves packed with ancient tomes, and glowing mana crystals embedded in the walls.

At the front stood Miss Catherine Lorne.

Her tall figure was draped in deep blue robes embroidered with silver runes. Her sharp gray eyes felt like they could pierce through steel and people.

Her reputation was infamous. A former combat mage , known for her Fortune element.

"Ah, our final arrival," she said, her tone calm but carrying a subtle edge.

I froze, heat rising to my face. "I… overslept," I muttered.

"Take your seat," she said, gesturing with a faint smile that wasn't kind.

There were 2 empty seats one for me the other for mortis who wouldn't be attending for the first week.

One was right beside a handsome man with pale blonde hair and red eyes.

Dante cross.

But I would rather die that be seated next to that sicko.

Scanning the room, I spotted an empty seat. Right next to Amani Khalid.

Amani leaned lazily against her desk, her golden-yellow eyes flicking toward me as I approached. Her tan skin seemed to glow faintly, and her dark hair framed her sharp features.

The faint scent of decay hung around her not unpleasant, but enough to keep most people at bay.

"Mind if I sit here?" I asked.

She shrugged. "It's a free seat."

Sliding into the chair, I tried to ignore the oppressive silence in the room.

Miss Lorne waved her hand, and crystalline orbs appeared on every desk, floating an inch above the surface. The spheres pulsed faintly with light, threads of mana inside writhing like living things.

"These are Tangled Mana Spheres. Your task is to untangle the threads using your mana. Precision, focus, and control are key. Force will only worsen the tangle."

Students immediately got to work, the hum of mana filling the air.

I placed my hands on the desk, staring at the chaotic threads in my sphere. Reaching out with my mana, I felt the tangled web. The sensation was… alien, like trying to untangle a ball of yarn with gloves on.

Beside me, Amani worked with a calm ease. Her movements were precise, her mana weaving through the threads effortlessly. Within moments, her sphere began to untangle, the threads falling into place one by one.

"Easy enough," she muttered, glancing at my untouched orb.

Meanwhile, I was floundering. Every time I tried to move one thread, another tightened.

"Ugh," I groaned, frustration building.

"Keep your mana steady," Miss Lorne said, her sharp gaze landing on me. "Force will only worsen the tangle."

Thanks for the tip, I thought bitterly.

My focus wavered, and a familiar thought bubbled up.

The Book.

Its presence in the back of my mind felt heavy, almost suffocating. A voice, faint but persistent, whispered a temptation:

"call upon me"

I clenched my fists, shaking the thought away. No. Using the Book of the End for something like this? Insane. Reckless. Even thinking about it felt like dancing at the edge of a cliff.

And yet, the idea lingered.

I exhaled sharply, forcing myself back to the task at hand.

At the front of the class, Celeste Astrea worked on her sphere with effortless grace. Her platinum hair shimmered under the light, and her piercing blue eyes focused intently. The threads inside her orb untangled with fluid precision, each movement calculated and flawless.

"It's all about delicacy and intuition," she said, her voice calm but carrying an edge.

Even Amani paused to watch her. "Not bad," she admitted, a hint of respect in her tone.

Meanwhile, my sphere remained a tangled mess.

"You're struggling," Amani said, her tone amused.

"No kidding," I muttered.

She leaned closer, her voice low. "Focus on one thread at a time. Find its path before you act."

Her advice was solid. Slowly, I picked out a single thread and traced its movements with my mana.

It worked barely.

"One down," I muttered. "About a hundred more to go."

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Celeste glancing my way. Her piercing gaze lingered longer than necessary, her expression unreadable.

"What's her deal?" I wondered, uneasy.

Amani smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Looks like you caught the princess's attention."

"Not helping," I grumbled.

By the end of the session, my sphere still looked like a rat's nest compared to everyone else's.

Miss Lorne walked past, her sharp gaze assessing my progress.

"Progress," she said flatly. "Barely. But progress."

I sank into my chair, avoiding the smug glances from some of the other students.

Amani, however, had untangled her entire sphere with methodical precision. She leaned back, her golden eyes glinting.

"You're better than you think," she said casually. "But don't let it go to your head. You're still terrible."

"Thanks for the pep talk," I replied dryly.

As class ended, I glanced at my schedule.

Mana Control

Magic Theory

History of Magic

The compulsory classes filled most of the morning. Optional classes weren't starting yet, leaving me free after lunch for now.

"One down," I muttered, packing up my things.

As I left, I couldn't shake the feeling of Celeste's gaze lingering on me.

And beneath that, the faint, persistent voice of the Book in the back of my mind.