Daemon raised his sword, his stance firm and steady. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he prepared for the first strike.
['Sword Mastery' has been activated.]
The moment the skill kicked in, a new level of awareness flooded his senses. Every angle, every weak point in the target became crystal clear. He could instinctively tell where and how to strike with precision.
Without a moment's delay, Daemon charged forward. His movements were smooth, almost instinctive, as the sword cut through the air in a graceful arc. The blade cleaved cleanly through the target, slicing it in half as effortlessly as if it were made of paper. The upper half of the dummy toppled backward, hitting the ground with a soft thud.
"Good," Instructor Leymar said, though there was a noticeable shift in his tone, now laced with a hint of interest. "Try the next one."
Daemon nodded silently, gripping his sword with practiced ease. He advanced toward the next target. Unlike the first, this dummy was made of tougher material, its surface designed to absorb stronger blows. Yet, when Daemon struck, the result remained unchanged—the sword cut cleanly through, the upper half of the dummy collapsing onto the ground.
But that wasn't the end.
"Keep going," Instructor Leymar instructed, his eyes now watching with more scrutiny.
Daemon moved forward, facing the increasing challenge head-on. With each new target, the level of difficulty rose. By the time he reached the fourth stage, the target's durability had grown so high that a normal swing wouldn't suffice. He had to channel mana into his blade, sharpening its edge with energy. The moment he did, the sword glowed faintly, and with a swift strike, the target split apart.
The fifth and final stage, however, proved to be the most difficult. These were moving targets, shifting unpredictably in all directions, much like the AI robots from the academy's training room.
Instructor Leymar walked over, his expression carrying a hint of approval. "Impressive work. Especially for someone who's just picked up a sword. Your mana control is quite advanced for a beginner," he remarked, his eyes briefly scanning the tablet in his hands.
Daemon caught a glimpse of the screen, noticing it displayed various details about him—his past records, previous assessments, and overall performance at the academy.
He gave a slight nod in response to Leymar's words. "Yes, I recently discovered I might have a natural talent for swordsmanship."
Leymar nodded thoughtfully. "Good. I'll take care of the necessary paperwork. By noon, your registered main weapon will officially be changed from daggers to swords."
"Thank you, Instructor Leymar," Daemon said politely. Without lingering any longer, he turned and left the testing area, feeling satisfied with the outcome.
************
Daemon walked through the hallway until he reached the classroom with the signboard that read A13. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
This wasn't just any classroom—it was the very place where the events of the story unfolded. After all, it was here that Arthur, the protagonist, and his companions studied.
Inside, students were scattered around, some seated and chatting in small groups, others flipping through books or preparing for the lecture. The room buzzed with casual conversations and laughter.
As Daemon entered, a few students glanced in his direction, but none paid him much attention. To them, he was just another student among many, ordinary and unremarkable. Daemon scanned the room briefly before finding an empty seat near the back. Without drawing any attention, he quietly made his way there and sat down, blending in with the rest. .
Daemon sat quietly in his seat, his eyes half-lidded as he listened to the low murmur of conversations around the classroom. Everyone seemed relaxed, caught up in casual chatter about lectures, training, or weekend plans.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and three figures walked in. The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly as all eyes turned toward them.
At the front of the trio was a young man with striking black hair and piercing yellow eyes. His handsome face and commanding presence made it impossible not to notice him. There was something about the way he carried himself—confident, proud, and untouchable. An almost palpable aura surrounded him, demanding attention.
'Victor Lionheart,' Daemon thought, recognizing him immediately.
Victor wasn't just any student—he was the top-ranked student in the academy, a prodigy born into one of the most respected families of Human Hunters. The Lionhearts were known for their unmatched skill in combat, and Victor, being the son of the second-ranked Human Hunter and the grandson of the Sword Venerable, upheld that legacy with ease.
Victor scanned the room briefly, his gaze dismissing everyone without interest. He was about to head to his seat when the door swung open once more, stealing the attention away from him.
This time, it was a girl. She stepped inside gracefully, her long white hair flowing behind her and her eyes, as blue as a clear sky, shimmering under the light. Her beauty was undeniable, and in an instant, the entire class shifted their focus to her.
It was Celestina Frostheart, another prominent figure in the academy and one of its most talented students. She shared the second rank with Amelia Emberfall, tying with her in skill and reputation.
A quiet murmur rippled through the room as the students whispered about the sudden appearance of the academy's top elites.
Victor's eyes softened as he gazed at Celestina. His usually stoic expression shifted, replaced by something more tender—almost affectionate. Not everyone knew that Victor harboured feelings for her, but Celestina, as always, seemed indifferent.
Daemon observed everything silently, noting every detail with a calm expression. 'And here come the stars of the show,' he mused inwardly.
A few minutes later, another group of students entered the classroom, drawing attention once again. Two boys and two girls walked in confidently, their presence just as noticeable as Victor and Celestina's.
Leading the group was a girl with fiery red hair and equally vivid red eyes. Her expression carried an air of arrogance, and the smirk on her lips made it clear she was someone who didn't back down easily. This was Amelia Emberfall, one of the key figures in the academy and a prominent member of the main cast. Walking beside her was a girl with soft pink hair and striking blue eyes—Julia Bravehart, another known face in the academy's upper ranks.
Amelia's gaze immediately found Victor as they entered. Her smirk softened into something more subtle, and with a sweet tone, she greeted him. "Victor, good morning."
For a brief moment, Victor glanced at Amelia, but his expression didn't change. Without a word, he turned away, ignoring her completely. His disinterest was obvious to anyone paying attention.
Daemon, watching the interaction from his seat, wasn't surprised. He knew this dynamic all too well—it had been part of the game's storyline. Amelia liked Victor, but Victor's heart was set on Celestina. This unrequited affection was one of the core reasons behind Amelia and Celestina's rivalry. Seeing it play out in real life rather than on a screen made it all the more fascinating.
As he continued observing, two more students entered the room. One of them was a boy with neatly combed blue hair and hazel eyes—Lucas Raven. Following closely behind him was another boy with black hair and striking blue eyes. This was Arthur Drenmor, the main protagonist of the game.
In Hunter's Academy Online, Arthur started as one of the weakest characters in the class, only growing stronger as the story progressed. Daemon knew that right now, Arthur was still at the bottom in terms of strength and skill.
As he observed them, Daemon couldn't help but feel amused. These were the very characters he once controlled with a keyboard and mouse, moving them through quests and battles. Now, they were right here, alive and interacting before his eyes.
'It's strange, seeing them like this,' Daemon thought, leaning back slightly in his seat. He stayed quiet, simply watching as the story he already knew so well unfolded around him.
As he was lost in his own thought, he suddenly heard a voice
"Silence."
The moment this word echoed inside the room, the classroom got quiet. After all, everybody knew who this woman was.
The woman's stern expression softened as she scanned the room, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. She had an air of authority and experience that commanded respect.
'Professor Elena Sanders.' I thought, seeing the woman.
As Daemon was lost in his own thoughts, a sharp voice suddenly cut through the noise in the classroom.
"Silence."
The word echoed through the room, and within moments, the chatter died down. Every student immediately quieted, their attention drawn toward the woman who had just entered. It was clear from the way the class reacted that this was someone who commanded respect without effort.
The woman stood at the front, her stern expression softening slightly as her sharp eyes scanned the room. Her presence radiated authority and experience, the kind that came only from years of being in charge.
'Professor Elena Sanders,' Daemon thought, recognizing her instantly.
"Good morning, class," Professor Elena said in a calm, steady voice that carried easily across the room. Her tone wasn't harsh, but it demanded attention nonetheless. "Let's start by taking attendance, and after that, we'll move on to today's topic—proper usage and handling of weapons in combat."
As she spoke, Daemon studied her closely. She had short, neatly trimmed blonde hair that framed her face perfectly, giving her a sharp, refined look. Her deep red eyes glinted with a mix of authority and focus, making it clear she was no ordinary instructor.
Professor Elena wasn't just a teacher; she was an active hunter, ranked 532 globally. For someone still actively involved in the hunter world, her presence here meant the academy valued her skills and experience highly.
Daemon also recalled something significant about her from the game. She was one of the few people who took an early interest in Arthur—not because of his family background but because of his raw potential. This made her stand out among the other instructors who often judged students by their lineage.
"Student rank 3250, Daemon Gracefall," Professor Elena called out, her voice echoing through the quiet classroom.
Daemon wasn't surprised—this was routine. Attendance was always taken from the lowest-ranked students to the highest. He expected the attention that came with hearing his name; it was something he had grown used to by now.
As soon as his name was spoken, several students turned their heads toward him. He caught a few smirks, some faces filled with mockery. It was nothing new. He didn't react, keeping his expression neutral. Let them think what they wanted—it didn't matter.
"Present," Daemon responded calmly, lowering his gaze as if uninterested in the world around him.
"Student rank 3100, Jane Irwin."
"Present."
"Student rank 2864, Arthur Drenmor."
"Present."
Daemon glanced briefly at Arthur. However, he soon turned his head. Quietly leaning back in his seat, Daemon waited as Professor Elena began calling out names. The class remained attentive, knowing well that even a slight distraction could earn them her disapproval.