The teacher, a commanding figure at the podium, straightened his posture and faced the attentive class.
With a regal air, he clasped his hands together before speaking, commanding the room's attention.
"Alright, that's it for the introduction," his voice resonated, filled with a subtle authority.
"My name is Professor Eldrion Nightshade, and starting today, I will be your main mentor and instructor for the next five years or whatever years left for those over 15."
The name carried a sense of mystique, invoking a certain allure and intrigue among the students.
Professor Nightshade's presence exuded an air of wisdom and experience, setting the tone for his role in guiding and shaping the students' futures.
"As we embark on this journey together," he continued, his gaze sweeping across the room, "I welcome any questions or inquiries you may have. Feel free to ask."
As Proofessor Nightshade finished his initial statement, the room seemed charged with anticipation.
The students sat poised, ready to absorb knowledge from the enigmatic figure of Professor Nightshade.
Amidst the hush, a tall boy, approximately 17 years old, broke the silence.
"Professor," his voice cut through the stillness, drawing all eyes toward him. "May I ask how strong you are?"
His white hair cascaded over his shoulders, contrasting starkly against his pale skin and piercing red eyes.
The contrast led people to consider albinoism, a thought that lingered momentarily in their minds.
The boy's attire exuded an effortless sense of casualness—a black graphic t-shirt, slightly oversized, paired with faded jeans and worn sneakers.
Leaning back in his seat, he exuded an air of nonchalance, seemingly unconcerned with the attention now directed his way.
A ripple of surprise and curiosity surged through the classroom as the more turned to see the source of the inquiry.
The professor's smile remained, his gaze now directed at the young man. "Ah, I am currently at the Master Elite rank, teetering on the edge of becoming a Novice Master."
A sudden hush fell upon the room, broken only by the boy's lackadaisical response.
"Oh-"
The weight of the professor's status seemed to hang in the air, eliciting a wave of murmurs and astonished whispers among the newer students.
The boy's reaction was nearly imperceptible, a slight raise of his eyebrows, but his countenance remained detached.
He leaned back further in his seat, seemingly unaffected by the stirred commotion he had ignited.
The classroom, once buzzing with anticipation, now held an almost palpable stillness, punctuated only by the murmurs that underscored the awe and surprise at the revelation of the professor's prowess.
The atmosphere in the classroom was already thick with curiosity and tension when suddenly, a student sitting higher up in the row, with pink hair and piercing green eyes behind glasses, interjected, "Sir, wouldn't that mean your threat assessment at least on a regional level?"
His words cut through the air, causing a loud collective gasp and widening eyes among the newer students.
The shock was palpable, and a new wave of whispers and exchanged glances surged through the room.
The unexpected revelation seemed to heighten the intrigue and admiration for the professor's abilities, casting a shadow of deeper awe upon the already astounded class.
The classroom's attention shifted as a student, adorned with blond hair and striking purple eyes that exuded an almost ethereal quality, voiced his thoughts as he leaned forward.
His masculine features seemed chiselled, and his expression held a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
"Professor," the student's voice rang out, breaking the silence that had settled after the previous revelation, "may I inquire about your age?"
As the professor calmly replied, "I am 328 years old, with at least 672 more years to go," a collective gasp seemed to echo through the room.
The newer students visibly tensed, their wide eyes filled with astonishment and a hint of disbelief.
The contrast between the professor's youthful appearance and his revealed age sent a wave of disbelief through the class.
Among the older students who had experienced this exact moment in a previous semester, there was a palpable sense of amusement.
They exchanged knowing glances, some sighing with a chuckle as they reminisced about their own initial shock upon learning of the professor's age.
"Professor," a student hesitated, her voice cracking slightly, "how long does it typically take to grow your strength as a Paragon?"
The professor leaned back, his casual demeanour evident in his response. "Ah, it's no biggie," he said with a nonchalant smile. "In about 150 years or so, you should be at my level of strength."
A stunned silence fell over the class. The female student's eyes widened in disbelief, her mouth slightly agape. Her casual attire of jeans and a loose-fitting sweater highlighted her surprise, contrasting with the professor's composed demeanour.
"Of course," the professor continued, his tone thoughtful.
"It does depend on luck and talent. Some individuals are fortunate and talented enough to reach my level within 50 or even 100 years." He paused, a hint of introspection crossing his face.
"Took me a good 200 years, though."
The room fell into an even deeper silence as the weight of his words settled in, the students staring at him in awe while the female student's expression mirrored a mix of surprise and realization.
As the clock's hands completed their slow dance around the antique gold watch, a small ding resounded. Signalling the passing of four hours, the professor looked down and glanced at the timepiece.
The professor glanced at his antique gold watch, its intricate details catching the light as he raised his hand. "I'm sorry, we'll have to pause here for today," he announced, interrupting the student mid-question.
The student, eager to start, pleaded, "But Professor, just one more question!"
"I understand your enthusiasm," the professor replied warmly, "but we've run out of time for today's lecture. Please meet me in my office afterwards, and I'll gladly address all your queries."
Just then, the AI overseeing Bright Academy's operations emerged in the classroom, a glowing hologram filling the space.
It signalled the end of the session, reminding everyone it was time for lunch.
The senior students, already disinterested, hurriedly left the classroom, chatting with friends as they made their way down the stairs.
Meanwhile, the newer students, slightly disappointed, planned to catch up with the professor after class.
With a sigh, the professor detailed the route to his office, mentioning the journey past the school park, through the roundabout of the school shopping mall, and finally, the use of the teleportation device to reach Sky Hill.
His room, he mentioned, was straight down the hall from Sky Square, marked by a distinctive wolf banner.
The announcement prompted a chorus of groans from the students, while a few seniors couldn't help but snicker at the elaborate directions.
Amidst the collective disappointment, the promise of meeting the professor later offered a glimmer of hope to the students determined to unravel their academic mysteries.
"Ark!"
The professor's sudden exclamation summoned an AI into the room.
He then instructed the AI to remind all 20-year-old students to head to the graduation room.
In response an audible groan rippled through the corridor outside the classroom as well as among the students within.
The complaints echoed about the inconvenience of the graduation room's location, an even greater distance than the professor's office.
The collective discontent reverberated as the students now grappled with the added hassle of navigating towards the graduation hall, a journey that seemed to extend further beyond their initial expectations.
As Aito descended the stairs from table 406, his mind churned with urgency. "I can't afford to be late," he thought, his black hair swaying lightly with each determined step.
"This is my chance to make a mark, to show Professor Nightshade I'm serious about this."
The professor's words echoed in his mind like a mantra. "Past the park, round the mall's roundabout, and the mysterious 'teleportation device.' Not an option for now." Aito's raven-black eyes narrowed with determination, focusing on the mental map he was constructing.
"Will he appreciate my eagerness, or see it as impatience?" Aito pondered, adjusting the strap of his bag.
"But I need my answers, and his guidance."
His face, usually a canvas of curiosity and thoughtful musing, now bore the weight of concentration.
"What if I miss the wolf banner? Will that ruin everything?" Aito's steps quickened, urgency driving him forward.
" I should Stay focused, concentrate on the landmarks," he urged himself, feeling the weight of expectations resting on his shoulders.
With each stride, his resolve solidified. "I must reach there before him," Aito affirmed silently, knowing this moment could shape his academic journey.
"First impressions matter. Show him I'm determined to grow, and that I have the dedication, to facilitate my belief."
His face, etching with determination, was a clear indication of the storm of thoughts raging within.
The dedication in his eyes was evident as he wove through the corridors, driven by the desire to meet the professor and make a lasting impression.
As Aito descended, his thoughts swirled with possibilities sparked by the overheard conversation. "Verona points..." They mentioned acquiring an instant teleportation device to the graduation room ignited a spark in his mind.
"If someone else is using Verona points for such a purpose, why not me?"
He envisioned the array of futuristic gear and super-powered suits available for purchase with Verona points at Bright Academy.
"Those points can secure cutting-edge technology," he mused, his mind wandering through the catalog of possibilities. "But could I use them to acquire something specific, something that could help me now?"
The idea of obtaining an instant teleportation device took root, intertwining with his earlier dilemma. "That device could save me time, provide a shortcut to Sky Hill," Aito contemplated, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes.
"But then again, my lightning manipulation could give me an edge without spending a single point."
Aito's expression shifted between contemplative and mischievous, a crafty grin playing on his lips as he mulled over the options. "Verona points... they're meant for acquiring tools to enhance our abilities," he remembered, his eyes lighting up with the thrill of possibility. "It's a risk, but if it works, it could be a game-changer."
His internal struggle intensified as he pondered the consequences. "Should I be a model student, following the rules and conserving my Verona points? Or should I bend the rules, and use these points for an instant advantage?" Aito's eyes narrowed with determination, the thrill of the decision evident in his cunning gaze.
As Aito contemplated his options, a semblance of seriousness crossed his face. "Maybe I should stick to the conventional way," he almost muttered, a hint of a responsible smirk forming. "I mean, after all, being a model student has its merits..."
Just as his expression started to lean toward the 'responsible' side, a playful glint flickered in his eyes. His lips twitched as if suppressing a laugh, and then, a mischievous smirk emerged.
"Nah, Imma do my own thing" his inner voice chimed in with a wink.
"Let's spice things up a bit."
With a subtle shake of his head, Aito embraced the more thrilling and rule-bending option—his lightning manipulation.
The momentary feint toward choosing the 'good route' quickly turned into a playful game of indulging in the thrill of bending the rules just a tad.
A hint of excitement played out in his expression as the mischievous smirk won over any fleeting notions of being a 'model student.'
"For now, I'll stick to what I know," Aito decided, a sly grin lingering on his face.
"After all, who says he has to know?"
"I've honed my lightning manipulation, and it's proven effective." The allure of using his innate ability without spending precious points outweighed the tempting but uncertain investment in the teleportation device.
With his decision made, Aito continued his descent, a mix of determination and mischief etched across his face as he embraced the thrill of utilizing his lightning manipulation to swiftly reach Professor Nightshade's office, disregarding his Verona points for the time being.