The Will

The corridor leading to the Defense Against Corruption classroom buzzed with an unusual tension. Students moved in subdued clusters, their voices low, their steps hesitant. The usual energy and competitive chatter that defined Astrea Academy had all but vanished.

I joined the quiet stream of students, my thoughts running wild. Defense Against Corruption wasn't just another class. It was a trial one that separated the strong from the vulnerable, not through mana or weapons, but through something far more personal: willpower.

Amani caught up to me, her pace quick and her expression animated.

"Heard about your match in Weapon Training," she said, her grin tinged with curiosity. "Rank 107? That's impressive for someone who claimed they weren't prepared."

I shot her a sidelong glance. "Impressive? You mean barely scraping by?"

"Even that is pretty impressive compared to your mana control" she said and then held her mouth barely stopping herself from laughing.

"Did you hear about Selene Valtheris?"

The name snapped my attention back. "Selene? As in the heir to House Valtheris?"

And Mortis's sister.

"The one and only," Amani confirmed. "She lost yesterday. Badly."

"To who?"

Amani's grin turned mischievous. "Some guy named Noah Balavan. Ring any bells?"

I blinked, my mind pulling up the name. Noah Balavan: Rank 7. A tall, quiet figure with slightly long black hair, piercing red eyes, and a scar cutting across the edge of his right eye. An orphaned son of a forgotten family.

"Didn't expect that, did you?" Amani said.

Actually I did considering he is the greatest swordsmanship talent in the novel, aside from mortis of course, But I can't say that since he is a orphan and Selene is a great genius of one of 12.

She "Maybe I should start paying more attention to the others aside from the ones that coem from the 12 some might be underdogs like this guy."

I sighed " Underdog really? Last I checked he ranked higher than you."

"Ohhh please we both know I couldn't properly use the death element in a friendly duel" she said as if she was annoyed.

"I could beat anyone here if I was allowed to fully use my element." she said in a boastful tone

"Even mortis?" I said

Before she could retort the door swung open. The man who entered radiated authority.

Professor Arnold.

He moved with a slow, deliberate gait, his tall frame draped in a dark coat. His right arm was heavily bandaged, and a jagged scar marred his face, running from his temple down to his jawline. His sunken eyes, though tired, gleamed with a sharp, almost predatory focus.

The room fell silent.

"Good morning," he began, his voice calm yet cutting. He stepped to the front of the room, his gaze sweeping over us like a predator sizing up its prey.

"My name is Arnold Veymar. I was once an Archmage. Now, I am your instructor."

The quiet murmur of the classroom was interrupted by the sharp creak of the door opening again. Heads turned in unison, the air thick with curiosity and surprise.

Mortis stepped into the room.

He moved with an unhurried elegance, his long black coat trailing behind him. His crimson eyes scanned the room lazily, yet there was a weight to his presence that made the air feel heavier.

The reactions were immediate.

Amani inhaled sharply beside me, her usual composure faltering. Around the room, students whispered in hushed tones, their words tinged with a mix of awe and fear.

"Is he seriously attending a lecture?" one muttered.

"And late, too. To Professor Arnold's class, of all things," another whispered.

Even I found myself staring, unable to hide my shock. Mortis didn't attend classes in the novel. Ever. Not once.

Professor Arnold turned slowly, his scarred face betraying no hint of irritation or surprise. His sharp gaze locked onto Mortis, studying him for a brief moment before the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Ah, the Prince of Darkness himself," Arnold said, his tone calm but laced with amusement. "You've decided to grace us with your presence. And fashionably late, no less."

The tension in the room skyrocketed, but Mortis was unbothered. He inclined his head slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Apologies," he said, his deep voice carrying easily across the room. "I was preoccupied."

Professor Arnold chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Take a seat, then. Let's see if the infamous Mortis can survive a lecture on willpower."

Mortis's gaze swept over the room, lingering on me for a fraction of a second. Then he made his way to an empty seat near the front.

Arnold let the tension settle before speaking again.

"Now that everyone is here," he said, a faint emphasis on everyone, "let us begin."

He paced slowly across the front of the room, his voice measured and deliberate.

"Corruption," he began, "is not just a force. It is a predator. A parasite. It does not seek to kill you outright. No, that would be too simple, too… merciful."

He stopped, his piercing gaze sweeping over the class.

"Corruption twists. It takes your greatest strengths, your deepest desires, and it poisons them. It feeds on the cracks in your will, the fractures in your resolve. It whispers to you, promising power, freedom, salvation… and then it consumes you."

The room was deathly silent, every word sinking in like a heavy stone.

Arnold raised his bandaged arm slightly, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "You've all heard the stories. Mages consumed by their own power. Warriors driven mad by their thirst for victory. Corruption does not discriminate. It only seeks weakness."

He stepped forward, his presence growing heavier, more oppressive.

"Your mana cores, your physical strength, your noble bloodlines none of it matters. Without the strength of will to resist, you are nothing but prey."

His words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of what lay beyond the walls of the Academy.

"And that," he continued, "is what we are here to address. Your will. Your resolve. Your ability to stand against the tide of madness and chaos."

He gestured toward the center of the room.

"For our first exercise, I will show you what it means to feel the weight of will."