Ding–!
Startled by the abrupt mechanical bell chime, I groggily peeled my eyes open. The warm sunlight gently teased me awake, and a thought tugged at my drowsy mind.
'Didn't I close the curtains in my room before hitting the hay?' I wondered as I sluggishly rose from my bed.
Taking in my surroundings, I realized something was off. The spacious one-bedroom apartment that greeted me was far grander than the cramped living space I called home as a first-year IT employee.
Wait, this isn't my apartment. Where am I?
Launching myself out of bed in an attempt to make sense of things, I unintentionally collided with the wall.
Thump!
Surprisingly, my head wasn't throbbing with pain. More pressing, though, was the question of how I managed to launch myself across the room 'accidentally.'
Shaking off the bewilderment, I decided a visit to the bathroom might help clear my foggy mind. Moving cautiously, I aimed to avoid any further unexpected acrobatics. The bathroom door, sleek and futuristic, caught my attention.
'Is this like the doors in <
To my amusement, the door slid open as if it understood my gesture.
'Cool,' I marveled before stepping inside. Turning on the tap with a simple touch of my fingers, I splashed water on my face, trying to shake off the lethargy.
When I dared to look at the mirror, my heart skipped a beat.
My reflection wasn't mine.
Black hair, fair skin, azure eyes. More strikingly, a face that screamed high school rather than the recent university grad I knew myself to be. My shoulders, broad and muscular, betrayed a physique that was definitely not mine.
'Am I dreaming?' I pondered, stepping out of the bathroom. Flipping on the lights, I surveyed the apartment.
It was an exact replica of the Ophelia Dorms from <
Strolling to the study table, a particular book caught my eye.
[Guide to Mythos Academy]
It couldn't be real.
Next to the student guidebook lay an ID card.
======================================
Name: Arthur Nightingale
Age: 15
Class: 1-A
Rank (1st year): 8/100
Mana core rank: Low Silver
Weapon of choice: Longsword
======================================
The photograph on the ID card mirrored my face exactly. In disbelief, I slapped my face multiple times, feeling the sting of pain reverberate through my body.
"I am not dreaming," I muttered.
It felt too vivid to be a dream; my senses were sharp, and I could even catch a whiff of the lavender room freshener lingering in the apartment.
I've been transmigrated.
To be exact…
I've been transmigrated into a web novel.
But that wasn't all! I hadn't become the protagonist or even a major character; I had become an extra!
But why?!
Why did I have to be reborn in 'this' novel out of all the gazillion other web novels out there?
The reason behind my panic was crystal clear. The ominous Volume 8 of <
Although I had just woken up, this felt like a dream. How could this even be happening to me? It was the most cliché situation I had ever found myself in.
Turning back around, I took a few steps and sat at the edge of the bed.
My knees felt weak, and my heart raced, almost as if I was on an adrenaline high.
My breathing quickened as the gravity of the situation finally began to sink in.
Okay, Arthur, think!
Wait, Arthur?
Wasn't my name something else?
What... was my name?
Isn't it just Arthur?
I tilted my head, perplexed, trying to grasp onto my name before I entered this web novel. Like sand slipping through the gaps between fingers, it eluded me.
I made a conscious effort to calm myself and focus on what I knew, devising a plan for survival. Observing how Arthur managed to secure a spot in Class A amid this golden generation of geniuses hinted at his exceptional talent.
Mythos Academy, the world's premier institution, admitted only a hundred applicants each year from a pool of hundreds of thousands—a feat that would put the greatest universities in my previous world to shame. The acceptance rate alone spoke volumes. Graduating from this elite academy paved the way for one's life journey.
Arthur's achievement of reaching 8th in his class indicated extraordinary talent and strength. His mana core already at
Thus, I was guaranteed to become a high-ranker in the future.
Capitalizing on my future information, I could potentially navigate this world. At least, the first seven volumes seemed like a breeze.
However, the hurdle lay in the fact that Lucifer, being overwhelmingly powerful, received almost zero extra cheats from the author—no items or buffs that I could steal—uh, borrow.
But even before that, the primary focus was retrieving the battle memories of this guy.
I glanced at the date on Arthur's smartwatch.
3rd September 2042.
With a day left before the official start of the Academy, I saw an opportunity to explore the private training center assigned to Class A students. It operated 24/7, providing a chance to understand Arthur's fighting style. It was almost 5:30 PM, a perfect time to squeeze in some training.
Navigating Arthur's body was a bit challenging. Even without mana reinforcement, his physique surpassed human capabilities by miles. I had to be cautious with every move to avoid unintentionally unleashing too much strength.
As I rose, however, a sudden lag in my movements caught me off guard. Before I could grasp the situation, a searing pain tore through my head, like a sharp object piercing through my skull.
"Mhmm!" I let out a muffled scream as the intense pain took hold. It felt as if someone was hammering a nail into my head—far from pleasant.
After a few agonizing seconds, the pain subsided, allowing me to draw a deep breath. But just as I thought it was over, a flood of memories rushed into my mind.
"Ahhh! What was that- khuuh!"
The sharp pain earlier seemed trivial compared to this onslaught. A cascade of memories, not mine, overwhelmed me, as if a dam had burst, drowning me in a torrent.
"Aaarghhh!"
My scream echoed, loud and unbridled. It felt like someone was squeezing and grinding my mind in a juicer. I crumpled to the ground, my body convulsing violently, each tremor resonating with excruciating pain.
"Arghhhhaha!"
Tears streamed down my face as unfamiliar memories and alien emotions flashed before me. Fifteen years' worth of experiences compressed into a few seconds.
"...Haaa! Haaa!"
As the pain subsided, I struggled to rise from the ground. My body refused to cooperate, and sweat dripped from every pore.
After a few minutes of lying there, I mustered the strength to stand, using the bed for support.
"W-What was that?" Stunned by the ordeal, I voiced my confusion to no one in particular, rubbing my forehead.
"W-Were those my memories...?" I frowned, standing there in bewilderment.
I took a moment to collect myself, sorting through the jumble of memories I had inherited.
Arthur Nightingale, an everyday commoner in the Slatemark Empire, had kickstarted his journey under the wing of his knight father and his circle of friends. His natural talent shone bright, catching the discerning eye of Count Chase, who generously sponsored his training.
The perks were lavish—elixirs, the full treatment of a noble upbringing, and, at 15, enrollment into the prestigious Mythos Academy.
Arthur was undeniably a genius, boasting an elemental affinity for wind, fire, lightning, ice, and water, alongside a commendable talent for swordsmanship. While lacking the unique martial arts physique of a Yin-Yang body, he might even surpass Lucifer in raw swordsmanship talent.
Yet, raw talent in swordsmanship and elemental mastery proved insufficient for Arthur to claim a spot in Class A. The only reason I found myself in that exclusive class was Mythos Academy's hesitation to dip below eight students. My abilities placed me somewhere between Class A and B.
This positioning was justified, considering the seven formidable figures who outclassed me in Class A. Each of them could easily clinch the top rank in any other year. Unfortunately, they shared an era with Lucifer Windward, the most broken character.
My options were limited for now. A single day of training wouldn't bring about substantial changes. Instead, I decided to chart out my interactions with the main cast and anticipate future events.
One promise echoed in my mind—I wouldn't let this life slip away without purpose.