Lunch Time

Solis Horizon Academy, ranked tenth among the top institutions within the Androlis Sovereign Zone, stood as a beacon of prestige and ambition, especially for the newly Awakened.

Though it was last on the elite list, that meant little. Each year, it admitted over six thousand Awakened students alongside another fifteen hundred Non-Awakened.

The system was neatly divided. Non-Awakened students were limited to theoretical subjects, academic disciplines such as physics, chemistry, mathematics, economics, language studies, history and historical mana theory. Their paths were academic or logistical, future researchers, bureaucrats, or civilian support personnel.

In contrast, the Awakened, known formally as Hunter Trainees, walked a different path entirely. Their courses blended both mind and body, forging warriors through blood, sweat, and spirit. Classes included martial weaponry, swordsmanship, elemental manipulation, combat arts, mana theory, tactical field operations, beastology, artifact deployment, and advanced mana-based disciplines such as skill channeling, combat techniques, and precision mana control. From refined blade skills to complex elemental abilities, every subject was tailored to enhance their combat potential and survival in the field.

Few among the Awakened cared much for textbooks. Most preferred the roar of combat halls over lecture slides.

The heavy steel gate of the academy groaned as it began to close.

"Shit..."

Taegyun sprinted down the final stretch of the paved front courtyard, his shoes slapping against stone tiles. With a last-second dash and a gasp of breath, he slipped through just as the massive doors slammed shut behind him with a deafening clang.

He panted, hands on his knees, as he turned back to glance at the unlucky few still standing outside.

Some groaned in annoyance, turning back toward the station. Others, clearly Hunter Trainees, simply crouched, tensed their legs, and leapt over the massive gate in a single bound. They landed effortlessly on the other side, brushing off invisible dust.

The gate warden, an older man with thinning hair and the dull glow of a low-tier Awakened, didn't even react. He just muttered something under his breath and returned to his booth.

Taegyun watched with mild disbelief and shook his head.

He stepped inside the main hall. High-arched ceilings welcomed him, casting long morning shadows across polished floors. The light filtering in through narrow windows painted golden streaks across the smooth gray stone walls. Chatter echoed around the open space, a mix of Awakened bravado and Non-Awakened gossip.

His gaze shifted upward toward a massive banner hanging over the atrium: "Forge the Path. Strength is Choice."

Right... he still hadn't registered his Awakening.

To enter the Hunter Trainee track, he would need to register at the Association Branch, he thought grimly. But there was a catch. He didn't have a mana signature.

A memory surfaced, cold and sharp.

Mana Assessment Crystal.

A sleek, upright crystal slab used by the Hunter Association to determine whether a person has mana and how strong it is. The individual places their hand on the crystal, which reacts and displays their mana level. Without this assessment, no one can receive official recognition, regardless of their actual power.

"It won't be easy," he muttered, pressing his lips together. "Guess I'll have to ask Grandpa for help."

He reached the academy's inner junction, where three corridors split off like forks of fate.

To the right was the Awakened Division, Hunter Trainee grounds. Tall mana-resistant walls lined the hall, with crimson banners marking various combat departments. It was there that battle lectures and field simulations were held.

Soon... once he was officially registered, he would be walking into that division too, he thought, eyes lingering for a second.

Straight ahead lay the administrative block–the central structure that housed key offices and facilities across all three floors. The Principal's office stood high on the third floor, overseeing the academy grounds. The Association liaison office and private offices for teachers occupied the second floor. The first floor also housed several faculty offices, staff rooms, and the cafeteria.

The entire academy was a three-story structure, with more than half of its space dedicated to the Awakened Division.

And to the left... his current destination.

The Non-Awakened Division

Without hesitation, Taegyun turned and walked down the corridor, passing room after room of murmuring students and flickering projectors.

Eventually, he reached the last door of the hallway.

Class 2-A: Second-Year Non-Awakened

He paused for a breath, then slid the door open and stepped inside.

Inside the classroom, a light buzz of chatter filled the air as students mingled before the bell.

A group of boys in crisp white shirts, black ties, matching black blazers, and neatly pressed trousers were engaged in playful roughhousing near the windows. It was not a real fight—just casual shoving and laughter between friends, the kind of harmless chaos that only ever happened before a teacher arrived.

The girls wore the same white shirts as the boys, but their uniforms included pleated skirts instead of trousers—either deep matte black or checkered with subtle red and navy tones, giving off an elegant yet slightly daring academic charm. A few of them stood in small groups, giggling softly as they exchanged stories from the weekend.

Taegyun entered quietly, keeping his presence low.

Without glancing around much, he walked to the back of the classroom and slipped into his usual seat—one of the last desks in the far-right corner. He dropped his bag beneath the desk into the box-like compartment designed for storage, then leaned back with a long, slow exhale.

Just thirty seconds later, the door creaked open.

A middle-aged man stepped into the room. His presence silenced the idle noise almost instantly.

He looked to be in his early forties. Though his hair had begun to show streaks of white, especially along the temples, his posture and eyes held the energy of a man still in his prime.

He wore a plain black blazer over a dull gray shirt with a violet tie, the Academy crest stitched in gold on his lapel. His gaze swept across the room for a moment, as if taking silent roll, before he calmly stepped toward the teacher's desk in front of the blackboard.

With a brief rustle, he set his register on the desk and flipped it open.

"Roll call," he said in a low but clear tone.

He began reading names one by one. The students responded with brief acknowledgments—some with tired voices, others with energy still lingering from the morning gossip.

After the attendance was complete, he set the register aside and picked up a white chalk.

"Alright. Today we continue where we left off last time," he said, scribbling a few quick formulas on the board. "Let's begin with Newton's laws of motion, and we'll gradually transition to newer applications based on modern energy models."

Taegyun adjusted his posture and glanced toward the board, pulling out his notebook with a quiet sigh.

"First law," the teacher began, tapping the chalk against the board. "An object at rest remains at rest, and an object in motion continues in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force. This is also called the law of inertia."

"Now, let's discuss how this basic principle still applies even in the modern world of mana-based engineering. In essence, mana flow is treated similarly to kinetic energy... until it isn't." He chuckled faintly. "Mana breaks a lot of our old physics, but the basics still matter."

He wrote a long equation across the board and turned to face the class. "If mana density in an area is high enough to bend external force, what happens to the resistance acting on a moving object? Anyone?"

A student near the front raised their hand and gave a tentative answer.

"Good. Partial credit," the teacher replied with a short nod.

"Now, the second law," he continued. "Force equals mass times acceleration. This law becomes incredibly important in tactical physics. If an Awakened user increases their own physical mass temporarily through augmentation techniques, the output force changes drastically."

"Imagine you punch with triple mass enhancement. What happens to the environmental impact?" he asked, smirking.

"Crater," someone whispered.

"Correct. Crater. Probably detention, too."

Laughter rippled through the class.

"For the third law—every action has an equal and opposite reaction—consider mana-repulsion systems. It is not just a theory now. Hunters use it daily when deflecting elemental attacks. Force redirection is basically Newtonian physics in combat."

He pointed to a diagram on the projector screen showing a modern weaponized gauntlet.

"This design uses calibrated mana amplification rings to delay reaction force by milliseconds, creating a fake one-directional force. Impressive, but it still obeys classical physics."

"For your upcoming exams, you'll need to explain these principles not only in standard forms but how they relate to real-world Awakener combat and field usage."

Groans emerged from the students. The teacher simply grinned.

"You'll thank me later when your lives depend on it," he said. "Physics saves more Hunters than you realize."

The lecture continued steadily for the next hour, blending classical mechanics with advanced mana theory. The teacher paced between chalkboard and projector, seamlessly shifting from dry formulas to field applications, until time finally caught up.

He stepped back and tapped the chalk on the table, erasing the board clean.

The bell rang.

The teacher stacked his notes, closed the register, and nodded at the class.

"That's all for today. Class dismissed."

Taegyun let out a long exhale, leaned back again, and tapped his pen against his notebook rhythmically.

Even in a class meant for the Non-Awakened, the world was no longer simple.

The rules had changed.

And now, even physics came with mana.

***

After two more classes, each taught by different teachers covering their respective subjects, the atmosphere within the classroom began to shift.

The bell rang for lunch.

Chairs scraped. Books snapped shut. Students stood in pairs and clusters, stretching limbs and chatting excitedly as they made their way toward the cafeteria.

Taegyun rose quietly from his seat.

He stepped out into the corridor, the familiar buzz of midday chatter echoing off the walls. As he rounded the corner, his steps came to a gradual halt.

There, walking toward him, was Miss Anna.

The corridor seemed to dim, the noise around him dulling into a gentle hum. Light danced off the sapphire blue satin of her dress, its rich fabric catching every shimmer like flowing starlight. The deep V-neck framed her collarbone delicately, while a daring slit up her right thigh revealed smooth, porcelain skin with every poised step she took.

The wrap of her dress cinched at the waist, emphasizing the gentle flare of her hips before cascading down into a liquid fall around her ivory heels. Slim white straps crisscrossed her ankles, drawing the eye to the elegant curve of her foot. A cropped white blazer hung over her shoulders like a crown worn lightly, adding a touch of authority to her graceful silhouette.

Silver glinted faintly at her wrist—a delicate bracelet—and the pearls at her ears glistened under the hallway lights.

She moved like a daydream sculpted in motion.

Taegyun's gaze swept across her. Not just a glance. His eyes drank in every inch—the satin that clung, the slit that teased, the subtle sway of her hips.

His chest tightened.

It was not just lust—though something flickered. It was deeper. A hot pulse of frustration. The kind that burned quietly under your ribs when something beautiful remained just beyond reach. Just beyond permission.

Fascination. Frustration. Guilt.

She was a teacher. She was authority. But she was walking toward him like she was gravity itself.

Miss Anna noticed his gaze. She caught it—locked onto it—and for a brief second, her steps paused.

A flicker of color touched her cheeks. Not anger. Not disapproval.

She was flustered. But there was no real scolding in her eyes.

In fact, if anything… she liked it.

Her lips curled just slightly—not into a smile, but something more mysterious. Something daring. She resumed her pace with the faintest sway of confidence, heels tapping gently against the polished floor.

Then she stopped.

Right in front of him.

So close that only the space of a single hand remained between them.

Her perfume was subtle, clean, like fresh linen and moonlight. Taegyun's breath caught.

Then, with a slow tilt of her head, she parted her lips—soft, full, and glossed like they had just touched a drop of morning dew.

Her voice poured out, smooth and warm.

"Taegyun," she said, eyes half-lidded, "would you like to have lunch with me in my private office?"

The world stopped.