Today marked the first official day of the academy. Yesterday, I had been called to pick up my custom-made uniform—a necessity for all students. The cost had nearly drained my entire savings just to afford two sets, but it was worth it. The uniforms were crafted to fit like a second skin, designed specifically not to hinder movement during combat or training. Unlike standard clothes, these were reinforced with mana-infused fibers, making them both durable and flexible. It was an investment, one that signified the start of a new chapter in my life.
At dawn, all students were summoned to a grand grassland beside the academy. As I arrived, I expected the usual hum of conversation, the excited murmurs of new students, but instead, there was an eerie silence hanging in the air. It wasn't long before I realized why.
Perched atop a massive, winged manticore, an older man sat with an air of complete authority. His piercing gaze swept over the crowd, and the sheer pressure radiating from the beast beneath him was enough to keep more than a thousand students in stunned silence. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. Was this what true power looked like?
"Welcome, students of Duskbarrow," he spoke. His voice wasn't loud, yet somehow, it reached all of us effortlessly, cutting through the morning air like a blade.
A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd.
"That's Marcus, the vice principal!" someone whispered.
"Isn't he the one who fought an entire orc division alone?" another voice added.
"No, I heard he killed over ten thousand of them… with his bare hands."
I wasn't sure which rumor was true—if either of them were—but the sheer aura of dominance surrounding him made me believe that the stories, no matter how exaggerated, weren't too far from reality.
Marcus let the murmurs continue for a few moments before a knowing smirk crossed his face. Then, with a slight shift in his posture, the manticore let out a deep, rumbling growl that sent a chill through everyone present. Instantly, the field fell silent once more.
"Here at the academy, you will be trained to become summoners," Marcus continued, his sharp eyes scanning the students. "However, summoning is only one of the many paths available to you. Beyond mastering your bond with your summon, you will have the opportunity to specialize in various disciplines—alchemy, enchantments, runecrafting, weaponsmithing, and more. These will be available as side courses to supplement your training. Though they won't earn you points towards your rank, the knowledge you gain from them may very well determine your survival out in the real world."
His words hung heavy in the air, and a few students exchanged nervous glances. Survival? Wasn't this just an academy?
Marcus continued, unfazed. "Your rank within the academy will be determined by your performance in five core subjects. These include Cryptozoology, where you will study legendary summons and the history of our kingdom. You will also learn Mana Manipulation, Summoning Fundamentals, Elemental Affinities, and of course, Combat Training."
His smirk widened slightly. "Combat doesn't just mean fighting with your summon. There will be times when your creature is absent or incapacitated—and in those moments, your own strength will determine whether you live or die. So, in this academy, you will be trained in both summoner duels and close-quarters combat."
I shivered. The way he said it—so calm, so absolute—made it clear that this was not a place for the weak-willed.
Then, Marcus's eyes glinted with something sharp. "Now, before we begin, let me make something clear. Every single one of you standing here today is a commoner. The noble students will not be arriving for another few weeks."
A wave of murmurs spread through the crowd again, but Marcus didn't wait for them to settle.
"Most nobles receive private education before they enroll, which means many of them will be exempt from certain first-semester courses. However, that does not mean they are untouchable." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I have no patience for fools who assume bloodline alone grants them superiority. You will all have to prove yourselves, regardless of your origins."
I clenched my fists. He was right. Here, in this academy, we were all starting fresh. The nobles might have their head start, but this was a battlefield where skill, not birth, would decide our future.
Marcus let out a small chuckle, though there was something dangerously sharp about his amusement. "Your progress at this academy will be measured through a point system. Each student will earn points based on their performance in exams, practical assessments, and even combat training. Exceptional behavior, leadership, and commitment to your studies may also be rewarded, while failure, laziness, or misconduct will result in deductions."
A nervous energy rippled through the crowd.
"These points determine your ranking among your peers. The higher your rank, the more privileges you earn—access to better facilities, higher-tiered summoning materials, advanced lessons, and even the opportunity to take on special missions outside the academy."
A murmur of excitement followed. The idea of competing for better resources added a new layer of intensity to our training.
"But," Marcus added, his smirk returning, "just as you can rise through the ranks, you can also fall. If you drop too low… well, let's just say this academy does not have room for the weak."
His words sent a shiver down my spine. Expulsion was a real possibility. This wasn't just a school—it was a proving ground.
Marcus let his final words linger in the air before giving a slight tug on the reins of his manticore. With a powerful beat of its massive wings, the beast soared into the sky, leaving us standing there, the weight of our futures pressing down on us.
Our journey had officially begun.