*Cheers*
*Beats*
The bar was alive with energy.
Some people were seen dancing wildly, jumping up and down in rhythm, filled with excitement every time the DJ dropped a new beat.
Others, more relaxed, were lounging in their seats, sipping their drinks and chatting away under the low light. They were showing off their branded items, new cars, and the latest smartphones featuring images of certain fruits.
The dark room pulsed with bright flashes of neon lights, making it hard for anyone to tell how much time had passed.
In the corner of the room, two men sat at a small table. They were deep in conversation, their laughter occasionally cutting through the music.
Empty bottles and glasses littered the table.
"Come on, Oz! What are you waiting for? Just propose to Lydia already. She's been dropping hints, and you know it!"
A blond man with tan skin teased, giving Oz a playful nudge.
"Hahaha," Oz chuckled, shaking his head.
"I haven't found the right woman yet, Leon."
*Sip*
Oz raised his glass, only to find it nearly empty. He sighed and swirled the glass, watching the ice clink softly.
"Come on, you're 37 now. If this were Japan, you'd be a wizard by now!"
Leon said, grinning mischievously. He leaned back in his chair, the teasing between them showing just how close they were.
Oz smirked, appreciating the joke but unfazed by it.
"Yeah, but I'm still enjoying my freedom."
"Freedom?'
Leon laughed.
"Man, you're successful now. You just got a promotion as a general manager! What more are you chasing?"
"Hmm, what could it be? Maybe I want to take a long vacation and travel the world. I'd like to visit medieval castles."
"Alone?"
"Yep, alone."
Oz confirmed his answer firmly.
Leon raised an eyebrow.
"What? No invite for me?"
"For what?"
Oz teased, his smirk growing.
"You'd just be a burden. Unless, of course, you pay your own way. Then maybe. Hahaha."
"Ah, come on. We're friends aren't we?"
Leon shot back, still smiling, but his tone playful and exaggerated.
They both knew it was all in good fun.
*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*
Leon's phone, resting on the table, rang, displaying the image of a woman on its large screen.
Even though the ringtone was at maximum volume, the sound system in the bar was louder.
"Oh no."
Leon muttered, glancing at the screen.
"My wife's calling. I told her I was working late."
Oz snickered, raising his eyebrows.
"Congrats man, you're dead."
"Damn it."
Leon grumbled, hurriedly slipping on his jacket.
"I gotta go. I owe you for the drinks. I'll pay you back tomorrow."
In a rush, Leon bolted toward the exit, barely avoiding bumping into the other patrons as he navigated his way through the crowd.
"Cowardly Leon."
Oz muttered, shaking his head with a grin.
*Sip*
This time, Oz drank nothing but the cold, watered-down remnants of the ice.
"Oh, it's empty? Fine then. Cheers to myself."
He mumbled, raising his glass one last time.
Oz stayed at the bar for quite a while, ordering a few more drinks.
Feeling the effects of the drink, Oz stepped outside into the cool night air.
He looked up and down the street, waiting for a taxi to pass by. But after standing there for 20 minutes, not a single taxi showed up.
He felt faint dizziness had settled in, making him a bit sluggish.
"Where's the bus stop around here?" he muttered to himself.
Bored of waiting, Oz decided to walk to the nearest 24-hour bus stop, hoping he'd spot a taxi along the way.
The streets were mostly empty, the sounds of the city quieted as the night stretched on.
As he passed by a narrow, dimly lit alley, something caught his eye.
A figure, standing just inside the shadows.
Oz squinted, but he couldn't make out the face.
The figure was shrouded in darkness, its entire body appearing as though it was cloaked in a deep shadow that absorbed all the light around it.
"Come here, come. Follow me."
The shadowy figure waved, gesturing for Oz to come closer.
Oz blinked, thinking maybe it was just the drink playing tricks on his mind.
He rubbed his eyes, but when he opened them again, the shadow was still there, unmoving in the alley
"Please… Come. We need you."
The figure called again, its voice barely audible.
"A ghost?"
Oz muttered to himself, not really scared.
"Whatever, go bother someone else. I've got enough problems as it is."
Without a second thought, Oz casually walked past the figure, not even bothering to look back.
The shadow stood still, watching him as he went on his way.
"Ahh, please… help us…"
The shadow's voice trembled, but Oz didn't listen to it.
He continued walking, his eyes fixed forward, as though the creature behind him didn't even exist.
After navigating through a few intersections and small alleys, Oz found himself lost.
When he passed through another narrow alley, he was jolted awake by a sight that instantly sobered him up.
In front of him, the morning sunlight illuminated the city.
But there was no sound, even though the place was filled with people.
More accurately, it was filled with stone statues that used to be people.
They remained frozen in the same positions as the last thing they had been doing.
"You must be kidding me."
Oz muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible as he took in the surreal scene, as if he were in another world.
"Where am I? Did I really drink that much?"
At that moment, Oz felt something he had never experienced before. An overwhelming sense of confusion, fear, and despair.
His heart raced as he looked around, trying to find any sign of life, any movement at all.
Nothing.
His instincts kicked in, and without thinking, Oz bolted.
He sprinted through the streets, the world around him blurring as he ran.
But it didn't matter how fast he ran or where he turned.
No matter which street he took, it was always the same—the people, frozen in stone.
An old woman pushing a shopping cart, a businessman rushing with a briefcase, a child reaching out for her mother's hand.
All of them, statues.
"Help! Someone, please!"
Oz shouted, his voice cracking with panic as he stumbled through the silent city.
"Help!"
**********
"Help!"
*Gasp* *Gasp* *Gasp*
Oz shot upright, gasping for air, his heart hammering in his chest.
His body was drenched in sweat, the panic from his dream still clinging to him.
He rubbed his forehead, waiting for his breathing to steady and his mind to clear.
He had dreamt again of the incident from his past.
"I hate stone statues."
He muttered under his breath, still shaken by the vividness of the dream.
*Screech*
A familiar sound snapped him out of his thoughts.
Oz turned his head toward the window, where his new pet, the owl, was perched, observing him with those wide eyes.
"Oh, good morning."
Oz said, his voice still hoarse from sleep.
"Did I scare you?"
The owl gave a slight shake of its head, indicating that it was fine.
Oz leaned back against the headboard, thinking out loud.
"I can't keep calling you 'owl,' you know. You need a proper name. How about we figure one out today?"
*Screech*
The owl nodded, seemingly in agreement.
It hopped closer to Oz, eager to hear what he had in mind.
"First things first, though. I need to know your gender. Are you a male?"
*Shakes head*
"Oh, so you're a female. Hmm, how about... Betty?"
*Shakes head*
"Not a fan, huh? Alright, let's see… Sarah, Emma, Laura, Rebecca, Claire, Jessica, Rachel, Amy, Gemma, Hannah, Sophie, Charlotte, Katherine, Elizabeth, Katie, Lucy, Lauren, Nicola, Jennifer, Victoria, Stephanie, Natalie, Kelly, Emily, Samantha, Helen, Kirsty, Lisa, Michelle, Louise, Alexandra, Joanne, Catherine, Danielle, Natasha, Zoe, Anna, Hayley, Melissa, Bethany?"
The owl shook her head rapidly with each name, rejecting them all.
"…"
Oz stared at her in disbelief.
"Okay, this is my last offer. If you don't like this one, I'm just going to call you 'Owl,' got it?"
The owl hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"Metis."
The owl froze, considering the name.
It wasn't her favorite, but compared to being called 'Owl,' it wasn't so bad.
Reluctantly, she nodded in agreement.
*Nods*
"Alright then, Metis. Nice to meet you properly."
*Screech*
Metis seemed pleased, dancing on the table in excitement. She let out a few joyful screeches, clearly happy with her new name.
*Hop*
Oz climbed out of bed, stretching his arms before reaching for the drawer next to him.
Inside was an official letter from Mistheaven Academy. The acceptance letter.
He didn't think much of it at the time. After all, Oz knew he would be accepted.
He didn't even need any bonus coin to be accepted.
But for the other applicants, this letter was everything.
Most of them had probably stayed up all night, staring at their letters in anticipation. As if keeping it close would change the outcome.
Oz moved to the window, pulling back the curtains.
The artificial sunlight of Stellarkeep streamed into the room, bathing everything in a warm glow.
When the light hit the letter in his hand, faint, golden writing began to appear across the page.
=====================
Mistheaven Entrance Exam Results
With this letter, the student candidate named "Oliver Twist" is declared:
"Passed"
The total points earned during the entrance exam are 75, placing you in 21st rank.
Of these, 30 points are from the main exams, and 45 points are from bonus points.
Additionally, 54 points are from bonus coins, but these will not be used for ranking, only for the acceptance cutoff calculation. You will gains 54 house points. The house points will be added to your house once you have been assigned one.
The new student orientation ceremony will take place on August 7, 1995, at 08:00 AM in the main hall of Mistheaven Castle.
Note: Hey kid, I really want to strangle you, but I can't harm my students. After school starts, come to my office to collect your additional rewards for earning the highest score in bonus coins.
—the Headmaster
=====================
"Whoa, a love letter from Professor Goldilock. I'll keep it safe in my wallet for the rest of my life."
*Screeech*
Metis, perched on Oz's shoulder, shook her head in disbelief.
How could her new master be even more eccentric than the last one?
She clicked her beak as if she were rolling her eyes.
"Come on, let's go for a walk. I'll treat you to some fish later."
*Screeech*
Metis, understanding the mention of food, immediately brightened.
After taking a quick shower and throwing on his usual cloth, Oz slung his small leather pouch over his shoulder.
He glanced over to Metis, who was already waiting eagerly on the bed's headboard.
She ruffled her feathers and hopped on Oz's shoulder, excited by the prospect of a treat.
"Hmm, where should we go today? Maybe I should ask Sarah about the best tourist spots around Stellarkeep."
Without further delay, Oz stepped into the hallway, nearly running as he pressed the button for the lift.
He tapped his foot impatiently, glancing at the polished mirrors inside the elevator as the doors opened.
*Ting*
"Oz, good morning!"
From behind, a familiar voice rang out.
Oz turned to see Sam and Mr. Pickwick walking toward him.
Sam waved enthusiastically while Mr. Pickwick walking with a proud expression.
"Oh, morning."
Oz greeted, surprised to see them.
"You two heading out as well?"
"Hohoho, come along with us, Oz!"
Mr. Pickwick's voice was filled with laughter.
"We're celebrating! Sam passed the entrance exam!"
Oz held the elevator door open as Sam and Mr. Pickwick stepped inside.
Once they reached the lobby, the trio strolled out of the hotel into the morning buzz of Stellarkeep's streets.
Without missing a beat, they made their way to a cozy restaurant across the street that had a few remaining tables.
"I heard from Sam that you helped him quite a bit during the exam. I can't thank you enough for that."
Mr. Pickwick said earnestly as they sat down.
He gave Oz a small, grateful bow.
"Really, Mr. Pickwick, it wasn't anything special. Just a few tips here and there. Sam passed by his own effort."
Oz waved his hand dismissively, though he meant it.
Sam might not have been the sharpest thinker, but his memory and endurance were formidable.
"Hohoho, don't be modest, Oz! Sam scored 55, and I know those tips made all the difference. Now, let's enjoy ourselves. Order whatever you want—it's on me!"
The restaurant was buzzing with life, and Oz couldn't help but glance around at the other tables.
Many families were there, either celebrating their children's success in the exam or comforting them after a disappointing result.
Some parents looked particularly determined to cheer up their kids, likely planning to spend the day touring Stellarkeep to distract them from their failure.
A waiter soon approached their table, ready to take their orders.
"I'll have the biggest steak you've got!"
Sam declared with enthusiasm, pointing at a picture of a massive steak that looked like it came from some magical beast.
"I'll have the Crocoduck meat."
Mr. Pickwick added with a chuckle, pointing to an image of a large reptile with duck wings.
"…"
— Ah, Crocoduck again.
It reminded him of Trousers that escaped the station.
—I wonder where he ended up.
"Oz? Are you going to order?"
Sam asked impatiently, glancing at the waiter.
"Right, I'll take a fish for my owl and a serving of grilled sausages for myself."
After confirming their orders, the waiter headed to the kitchen.
A few moments later, they returned with drinks that none of them had ordered.
"Uh, what is this?"
Oz asked, puzzled, as he looked at the herbal concoction the waiter had placed in front of him.
He had ordered black coffee, yet this glass was filled with a green, viscous liquid, accompanied by an overwhelming, pungent aroma.
"Oh, that's an anti-spice elixir. Rarely does anyone dare to order the salamander meat sausages. The heat from those is something else."
"…"
At that moment, Oz truly began to grasp that this restaurant didn't have anything close to a "normal" menu.
"Our record here is 12 sausages. If you manage to eat 13, all the food you ordered today will be free."
Another waiter approached, carrying Oz's long-awaited meal.
The sausages appeared ordinary at first glance, their dark red, charred skin indicating they'd been grilled over high heat.
But the spicy scent rising from them felt almost alive, stinging Oz's nose before the plate even reached the table.
"Just yesterday, a customer couldn't even finish one. They ended up in the hospital."
"…"
"Come on, Oz, this is your chance! Let's eat for free!"
Sam cheered, though it didn't help Oz one bit.
Cautiously, Oz skewered one of the sausages with his fork, bringing it hesitantly toward his mouth.
*Munch*
"Hmm…?"
To his astonishment, there was no heat—none at all.
As it turned out, the spice in salamander meat was actually a potent toxin, and because Oz's body was immune to poison, he didn't feel the heat like others would.
A sly grin spread across Oz's face.
"Hey Sam, Mr. Pickwick, order as much as you want. I'm breaking this record today. Muahaha!"
Oz did just that.
By the end of the meal, he'd devoured 13 sausages, officially setting a new record at the restaurant.
He stopped there intentionally, leaving room for future visits where he might want to eat free again.
"NOOOOO!!!"
The restaurant owner's anguished cry echoed through the room as his body slumped over, drained of life as if his very soul had been sucked out.
Across from him, the dynamic duo of Mr. Pickwick and his son, Sam, sat amidst a mountain of empty plates.
They had meticulously chosen the most expensive items on the menu, savoring every bite.
Everyone at the table looked happy, except for the restaurant owner, who had passed out in sheer despair.
**********
*Burp*
"Thanks, Oz, I don't think I can eat another bite."
Sam said, rubbing his swollen stomach.
"Hohoho! And I was planning to treat you today, but instead, I got a free meal!"
Mr. Pickwick chuckled, though it was clear the sheer quantity of food had left him just as immobile as Sam.
They remained slumped in their seats, unable to move after consuming so many luxury dishes.
"The entrance exam was just the beginning. Mistheaven Academy is renowned for its unconventional curriculum, hohoho."
Oz recalled the documents he'd received from Sarah.
Mistheaven didn't adhere to the typical grading system like most other academies.
Instead, students were evaluated not only on academics but also on how they handled various challenges and crises during their time at the academy.
"My late wife always dreamed of Sam attending Mistheaven. I never imagined that dream would actually come true… Huhuhu."
Mr. Pickwick wiped away a tear with a napkin, then reached into his wallet, pulling out a worn photograph of his late wife.
"If you don't mind me asking, when did Mrs. Pickwick pass away?"
"My wife passed away only two years ago."
Mr. Pickwick sighed deeply.
"Sam and I were out of town when it happened. By terrible chance, a horde of Phoebus attacked our city. She was one of their victims."
In this world, tragic stories like Mr. Pickwick's were all too common.
With dark lords, dark wizards, magical creatures, and magic disasters everywhere, peace was a rare thing.
Phoebus were one of the many horrors created by the 136th Dark Lord, Quasimodo, infamously known as the Disease Dark Lord.
He lived during the First Great War, an era of suffering and turmoil.
Quasimodo had been a brilliant alchemist, focused on finding a cure for all diseases.
His life's ambition had been to create a panacea—a universal remedy.
But after years of failure, he succumbed to madness.
By the time he perished in 1917, amidst the chaos of war, his laboratory's twisted research had spread across the world.
The plagues he unleashed claimed millions of lives, far more than the war itself had.
One of the most terrifying creations of the Disease Dark Lord was the Phoebus.
This illness turned its victims into mindless creatures.
They spread the disease through their bite, transforming others into walking monster that burned endlessly.
Hence the name Phoebus, meaning "sun."
Even worse, the creatures could explode, making them living bombs.
The world was thrown into disarray as soldiers returning from the Great War I unknowingly brought the disease back to their homelands, spreading it like wildfire.
Mr. Pickwick handed the photograph of his late wife to Oz, his voice trembling as he spoke.
"This is a picture of my wife. If you ever come across her as a Phoebus, I beg you, help her rest in peace."