Class C of the 72nd cohort toured the grounds.
The academy was wide and spacious, amounting to 50 acres of land. Consisting of multiple lecture halls for welcoming newly admitted students, the four learning halls of each specialty and five dormitory buildings for students.
It also supported an extended number of facilities. Ranging from private, sophisticated lounges, multiple sparring arenas, 30 isolation training areas and 50 meditation rooms,.
"Now, the tour is finished! You are free to go back to your dormitories and prepare for dinner in about one hour, you can read the time from that clock," Javarius said.
His finger extended, pointing at the big clock above the entrance that soared up to the sky, its sight bypassed every building that stood in its way.
The tour went on from the time the sun was above their head to the time the sun slowly drowned on the horizon. Only then did the tour finish, and the group dispersed and went back to their dormitories.
"Ah… it's such a tiring day…" Hubert muttered as he walked back to his room.
It wasn't long before he reached his room. The crowd was far away from him, his room being the one at the very end.
The door stood in front of him as he slipped his hand into the carefully tailored pocket of his chest, grabbing the door's key.
Pat
"Ahhh!" he shouted, surprised by the sudden feeling of touch on his shoulder.
Jumping to the side, he looked at who placed hand on him.
Ron's usual blank stare greeted him boringly.
"Ah… Ron, you scared me," he said, relieved over the welcoming Ron, his roommate, a servant.
"Train… follow," Ron replied, reminding Hubert of his usual routine, his voice slightly commanding.
Hubert looked at him with widening eyes, unsuspecting of keeping discipline over the routine they developed back when they were just slaves. Though he had no choice but to obey.
"Wait! At least let me change my clothes first, I don't want this uniform to get dirty," Hubert said.
A few minutes passed by and the two stood behind the tall, three story dormitory building C, on a small patch of clearing Ron found.
"How did you find this place? It wasn't even mentioned in my tour," Hubert asked as he got down on the floor, ready to start his push up.
"Cleaning…" Ron responded quickly.
"One…"
"Two…"
Then their routine continued until late night. Of which the short hand of the tall and large clock showed 7.
Hubert finished, clothes drenched in sweat while his lungs gasped for air repeatedly. His muscles, toned and strengthened from the weeks of exercise, seeped out steam.
"Hubert… not weak," Ron said, the same words he mentioned at the time in slavery.
Once it was something encouraging, now it's a fact.
Hubert smiled as he wiped sweat trickling down from his face with his forearm.
"O-of course, I-'m Hub-hubert," he replied, his tone smugly, his words cut off repeatedly from his inhaling and exhaling of air.
Ron turned his head, his gaze fixed around the corner of the building.
"Let's go get dinner! My stomach is growling now…" Hubert said, interrupting Ron's thought.
"..." Ron looked for a few moments more, before nodding at his suggestion.
The day ended briefly after Hubert's head touched the unfamiliar softness and comfiness of the pillow.
As soon as the sun drowned, it rose again.
Teng!
The bell above the clock tower vibrated early in the morning. Its ring echoed throughout the academy, waking up the students and servants alike.
Hubert's eyes were struck by the blinding ray of sun, pouring in from the window beside his bed, as he slowly opened it. He slowly woke up from his bed and looked around.
"Ron?" he called out, his vision like a blur.
Slowly, his eyes cleared out. Ron's bed across his was neatly made and Ron was nowhere to be seen.
"How early did he leave?" Hubert asked as his bare hand rubbed his sleepy eyes.
Then he got ready. He made his bed tidily and opened his rag shirt, ready to change into his detailed uniform of dark blue with gold linings stitched into it.
His body toned, and his chest, though not as big as those of a gorilla, was filled with muscles. His back, though not as strong as a bull, was crevassed by his muscles.
On his back was a mark. A mark of purple, shaped like a single from a pair of wing of an angel, etched directly into his skin.
Though the mark quickly disappeared, hidden and covered by the cloth of his uniform.
Then his hand, on which was marked by the slave's insignia of the Church of Visions, slipped into a fitted glove of his size.
Though he was reminded of his cause and purpose of coming to the academy.
"Ha… 30 days… I need to awaken my affinity before that," he muttered as he looked at himself in the mirror.
He was just a young man from the countryside, now he had become someone capable of entering the second highest academy of the entire kingdom. A slight sense of accomplishment surged within him as he smiled to himself.
His black eyes, once dreaded and feared for his survival, now brimming with spirit and energy.
One moment he stood in his room, and the next he found himself sitting in the front row of the lecture hall, awaiting for the arrival of Vinc, the instructor.
"Hello!" Vinc's head popped out of the door frame, his hair messier and his eyes baggier than before. His steps weren't heard before his head popped out.
Then he made his way onto the podium.
"Stand up!" the man from yesterday shouted.
Everybody looked at him, confused.
"Greet! Good morning, instructor!" he welcomed the instructor. Though his presence was akin to a tall, lone tree among the sea of grass.
"Good morning, everybody, I guess all of you have waited for this class, huh? Well, I've got a surprise to tell you all, the grade advancing test will happen in 15 days, so make sure to note everything you learn from this class!" Vinc said as he placed books on the podium.
Then his hand grabbed a chalk, his body turned onto the blackboard behind him and his wrist moved like doing a sword dance, consuming the chalk.
As the chalk was consumed by the blackboard, a presentation was painted. A presentation of barely readable words and barely perceivable drawings of stick men in different stages.
"Alright, so this, the first stickman," Vinc pointed.
"This is you, a stickman with nothing, you can wield a sword and shield, meh. But ultimately, in the field, you are nothing more than a cannon fodder," the instructor said, then his hand continued to the next drawing.
"Now, this thing, like a magic dust, is called mana, it's something easy to feel and see if you truly put your mind in. Mana is like air, it's present around us, it's just that normal and unknowledgeable people don't know how to detect it.
And this is magic, it comes from changing mana to another form of another element. It's akin to crafting or… creating something with the material nature has given to you," Vinc explained, his hand moved to another drawing.
And this other magic dust coming out from the book is aura. Aura is not like mana, aura isn't formed from mana being crafted into another form. Instead, it comes out from a technique and that technique is like a template for changing mana into something else," Vinc continued.
"Now this you, after you inhaled one of these magic dust, a strong and buff stickman," the instructor said, his hand pointing to the stickman with a burst of power coming out of it.
"Any question?" he asked, his tone impatient.
His explanation was brief and confusing for some. But it was worded so that even a kid could understand.
"If you don't have any questions, let me show you a spell…" Vinc exclaimed excitedly
"Minor Ignem Ruptis!" he chanted.
A small continuous burst of fire came out of his hand.
Hubert was mesmerized as his eyes widened in curiosity, it was something he had seen before in the mana stones cave, coming out from the magicians that directed it to the gross ants. Yet he didn't know the fire could be that small.
"This is a spell of fire burst, a small version of it for demonstration. As you can here, this thing came out of my hand miraculously, but as I told you before, this is the result of my effort in changing the mana into a magic,
This would be hard, even impossible, to do, if you lived before the third king of Creopia. Since then, magic has advanced so much that we, magicians, rely on magic circles to cast," Vinc mentioned.
"It is currently impossible for you all to see the magic circle in my hand since none of you have felt mana," the magic died out in his hand.
Then his hand grabbed another piece of chalk and drew again. This time, it was not some nonsense scribble of words or drawings.
Instead, the students were surprised by the detailed drawing of a magic circle with the symbol of fire in the middle of it.
"This… This is the magic circle of Ignem Ruptis, fire burst!"
And another
And another