"No, I should be more patient. There was another window along with the success message."
[Leeching process: 43d: 16hr: 23m: 14s]
It seemed quite self explanatory—there were still 43 days until the full information this parasyte could give me would be uploaded inside my head.
Periodically checking up at the mundane information I was receiving, hours passed rather slowly. Many individuals came inside, but thankfully no one had come complaining about a student hogging.
Night or day, I couldn't be sure, but referencing how long it had been since someone had gone inside, I thought it would be safe to leave.
With my head low, I scurried back into my room under the gentle sunset; by the grace of god, I had managed to return unharmed.
"Haa…" I couldn't help but pat my chest as a means to calm myself down. Tomorrow would be the official start of my final year in the Bastion. I would willingly be walking towards idiots that had determined their life goal to be causing Arlen trouble.
In preparation for tomorrow, I adorned my uniform and added my name tag onto the blazer pocket. Although the majority of my life here had been utter bullshit, I had no complaints about the attire. A sleek black blazer with two lines of gold that ran down to the arms—even the material felt incomparable to what I had worn on Earth.
No, that statement itself was flawed. I had never worn anything close to this back on Earth.
"Tch." Rather than lamenting on the pities of my old life, I focused on the present moment.
If I could live for 43 days…it would be alright.
—
All 4th years were brought to an auditorium and told to be seated. According to the few conversations I overheard, the Headmaster of the Bastion would be providing a speech for the grown talents of the Empire.
Ignoring that fact which held no great significance to me, my attention was wholly dedicated to being as still as possible. I had taken my spot at the very uppermost of the auditorium, away from most people. From the looks of it, the only people up here were the other rejects of the 4th year.
My comrades in the future…maybe I could try and create some relations with them? Arlen indeed was tormented by many, but those at the very bottom only gave him strange looks instead of joining in.
For a moment, my head faltered as a memory flowed in.
Someone really had tried to join in beating Arlen—was it last year? They ranked at the bottom 10 of the year yet threw a kick at me, citing it was to teach me to be stronger.
He was promptly made another target of torment for a month.
A chuckle came out my mouth involuntarily at the absurdity of it. After that day, it seemed that he held great resentment for me.
In the midst of my pondering, a roaring voice thundered through the auditorium.
"Greetings to Headmaster Li!"
"Greetings to Headmaster Li!"
I quickly scrambled up on my feet and shouted along with them, scanning the center of the stage. Indeed, a rather tall figure had made its way towards the podium, motioning us to return to our seats.
From my distance, I couldn't make out much of what she looked like apart from the hair neatly cut to her shoulder; for a moment, I worried if I would be able to hear her words but that thought was quickly thrown out.
A mundane voice wrapped around my ears. "Hello, students. This year marks your final one. After this, you will enter the true world and aid the development of the world itself. Every one of you are the pinnacle of the youth within the Northern Coalition, and will be great talents. I sincerely believe that this batch is one of the greatest since the start of the Bastion."
…How? The voice almost seemed to be speaking right next to me. There wasn't any feeling of shouting or blasting being projected, but that in itself was illogical. From this distance…?
Mana—it truly was mystical. Arlen's memories didn't provide me on how exactly this was happening; it merely provided me enough to know that this was a supernatural event.
"And so, I urge you to place all your efforts into this final year. Every increase in rank shall be another step forward towards your future. There isn't much to say to such developed students. You yourselves are aware of what you must do. All I can offer is my trust in you. Do well."
Click.
In less than a blink's time, the woman had disappeared. No noise, no signs that anything had even happened. Simply, gone.
A sharp exhale came out my mouth at the bewildering sight. Knowing mana existed and seeing in real time was a completely different feeling.
My hands had fallen to the other seat as I stretched, but were interrupted by a solid material that blocked their way.
"F-Fuck! What the fuck!"
Flesh had situated itself on the seat adjacent to me.
Sullen eyes that seemed to carry an abyss. The cheeks had nearly become fully hollow; the figure's top half had been covered with a chalky layer of hair. Their atmosphere itself felt spiritual.
This man…it was the same as before. Instinctively , my hands started to shake. Was it really a ghost? I was certain that nobody was seated when I had arrived, nor had I heard anyone take a seat during the speech.
My eyes fell onto his name tag.
Azin…Dembres?
A vague memory trickled down to my perception; a memory that took place at the very first year inside the Bastion.
There was a cursed existence within the Bastion. There were many individuals who had been cursed by family, or had held strange blood related issues that inhibited their abilities.
'It' was something different.
No-one truly understood what was wrong with the individual. He breathed like a human, he had limbs like a human, and flesh like a human.
But no human was like him. Being in close proximity to him would cause others to feel unnerved and restless. A glance at his eyes would make the viewer feel stuck in an endless void.
It was as though an error of the world was walking around. Many tests had been conducted, but nothing could accurately assess the origin of his existence.
Only one thing was certain—his strength. That being had become the first ranked of the Bastion in his very first year. With that, he took the title permitted only for the top.
Bastion's [Heavenly Star]. In other words, the existence above prodigies.
That being's eyeball rolled in my direction briefly. He took a mere glance, yet it felt as though the entirety of my body had been laid bare for the world to observe. The once shaking body had come to an absolute standstill under his overwhelming gaze.
"..."
A contorted mumble slithered into my body.
With that, he wafted out of my vision, returning the seat to what it once was.
—
I had been appointed to Class 4-8 for my homeroom. Every year was split into 8 different groups of approximately 30 students. 4-1 was home to the greatest minds of the 4th year, whereas I had found myself in the land of dipshits who none knew how they had managed to get into the Bastion.
This truly was…the perfect home. Out of all the faces I managed to catch a glimpse of, none followed through with a subsequent ill fated memory. At least for now, there were no tormentors inside this classroom.
Each table would fit two students—I sincerely prayed that I wouldn't be situated next to a lunatic. Rather than choosing a conspicuous seat such as the far corner, I decided to seat squarely in the middle. With my gracious heart, I allowed for another hidden protagonist to take the window seat.
More and more students filled inside the room, until the head count had turned to 29 wherein no more came.
…ah. Although logically I should've been rejoicing at the fact I was alone, I couldn't help but feel a burn on my face looking at the surrounding pairs. It had joined together from the daze of my incomprehensible meeting with Azin Dembres. I had temporarily pushed it down my priority of thoughts, but it still was rampant, urging to overflow.
Chastising myself in my head, I ignored those silly thoughts and started to focus at the front. The face was recognisable—Ilfer Krass. Arlen and the man had history, and for once in Arlen's life, it was a positive one.
He gave a wide smile to the silenced class and opened his arms out wide.
"Hello, failures of the Bastion. My name is Ilfer Krass. I've been appointed to overlook the progress of the worst talents of the Bastion. To tell you the truth, when I first saw each of your files, I really couldn't believe it. How did any of you manage to get in here?!"
With that proclamation, he entered a small fit of laughter.
My mind wandered to the memories of Ilfres I had and scrutinised them once more. Was this really the same guy? This same individual was the one who had convinced Arlen to continue his stay in the Bastion instead of dropping out, and now he was saying this?
Looking around showed the indignant faces of my fellow classmates; some even seemed on the verge of rebuking his words.
"No, ho—"
Completely ignoring a student who had stood up, Ilfer continued speaking. "It's disgusting, right? Hearing such mockery even though you've placed so much effort into doing better, I don't know how I'd manage without trying to kill someone. Allow me to say something. I truly believe that the majority are respectable individuals. Just, talent is absolute."
His smile faltered for a second before he gave a loud clap. "That's why! I won't be teaching you any of the shitty curriculum that the Bastion wants me to teach. You can learn other things from your other mentors, but I'll teach whatever I deem fit. Try your hardest to rank up and get out of this foolish class, alright?"