lecture had ended, and students were now heading to the cafeteria for lunch. Among them were Ken, Hel, Lillith, and Neebi, making their way through the crowd. The academy's grand grounds buzzed with conversations about the class, upcoming assignments, and training sessions.
Just as Ken and his friends were about to leave the ground, an assistant approached them, his expression neutral yet firm.
"Ken! The professor is calling for you," he said.
Ken blinked in surprise. "Me?"
Hel and Lillith exchanged glances before Hel shrugged and said, "Go see what he wants. We'll wait for you here."
Ken nodded and followed the assistant .
When they arrived infornt of the professor's , the assistant gave a small bow and left, leaving the professor and Ken alone.
Professor Azel, a middle-aged man with a stern yet intelligent gaze. His piercing eyes locked onto Ken, studying him for a moment before speaking.
"How about becoming my direct disciple?" Azel said, his tone calm yet authoritative.
Ken's eyes widened.
"A direct disciple?"
That was a privilege usually reserved for second-year students, and even then, only for those excelling in their chosen major. Not only that, but a professor had to personally select a student for such an opportunity. It was a direct mentorship, a fast track to mastery.
"Before you answer," Azel continued, leaning forward slightly, "know that this isn't an offer I extend lightly. I've seen your progress, your potential. You have talent, Ken. But raw talent means nothing without proper guidance."
Ken swallowed, his mind racing. This was an incredible opportunity, yet it also meant greater expectations, more responsibilities and he hadn't decide which subject to Major in yet.. being a direct disciple means he would have to major in that subject..
Seeing his hesitation, Azel leaned back in his chair. "You don't have to decide right now. Think about it and give me your answer later."
Ken exhaled, nodding. "I'll think about it."
Azel gave a small nod of approval before dismissing him.
Ken returned , rejoining his friends. They went to the cafeteria seated at their usual table, a variety of dishes spread before them.
"So, what did the professor want?" Lillith asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He offered to take me as his direct disciple," Ken said,
Hel nearly choked on his drink. "Wait, what?"
Lillith whistled. "That's unexpected."
Neebi, who had been poking at his food, finally looked up. "Are you going to accept?"
Ken shrugged. "I haven't decided yet. I don't know which subject to major in yet..."
Hel smirked. "Sounds like someone's getting special treatment."
Ken rolled his eyes. "You say that like it's a good thing."
They continued eating, shifting the conversation toward the next lecture—Combat Training.
"Are you guys going?" Hel asked.
Everyone nodded.
"I think they told us to meet at the training grounds instead of the classroom," Lillith added.
After finishing their meal, they left the cafeteria and made their way to the training grounds, an expansive field surrounded by towering stone walls.
A few minutes later, the combat instructor arrived.
He was a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in a sleek combat uniform. His fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes gave him a commanding presence.
"Hello," he greeted, his voice carrying effortlessly across the field. "I'm Professor Lor, your combat instructor. Since this is our first class, we'll start simple—run 100 kilometers."
Silence.
Then—
"WHAT?!"
Students stared in disbelief, their jaws nearly hitting the ground.
Lor smirked. "You heard me. Now move."
And so began the torment.
Hours passed, and exhaustion settled deep into their bones. The sun began to dip below the horizon, yet Lor showed no mercy.
"Good, good! Keep running!" he called out. "Stamina is key to combat!"
By the time the lecture finally ended, Ken and his group were completely drained.
Their next class was a theory subject. They dragged themselves to the lecture hall, barely keeping their eyes open, and once it ended, they returned to their dorms.
Hel and Neebi collapsed onto their beds immediately, snoring within seconds.
Ken, however, forced himself to stay awake. He went to the Black Hole, an isolated training area where he could practice summoning his undead eagles.
For two hours, he honed his control over them, improving their coordination.
Only when his energy was completely depleted did he return to his dorm and finally allow himself to sleep.
A week passed, marking the end of their protection period.
In the end, Ken selected Curses, Summoning, Poison, Combat, History, and Formula Studies as his main subjects.
Hel chose Curses, Combat, Summoning, Formula, Magic, and Poison.
Lillith took Curses, Magic, Formula, Poison, History, and Nobility Studies.
Neebi, as expected, picked Spiritual Arts, Biology, Summoning, Curses, and a few lesser theory subjects.
Now, it was time for missions.
Missions were divided into four ranks:
White: Tasks within the academy.
Blue: Missions within the Undead Alliance.
Red: Missions across the Undead Continent.
Black: Missions in the Neutral Zone or the 'Holy Continent.
Only second and third-year students could take Black-rank missions.
Ken and his group stood in front of the mission board, scanning through the available tasks.
Suddenly, Valor's voice echoed in Ken's mind.
"Wait… boy, that mission."
Ken looked at the board and spotted a Red-rank mission in the state of Layya. Reports indicated strange behavior among its people, and the entire state was in turmoil.
Ken frowned. "What about it?"
Valor's tone was serious. "This could be the work of your father's Ancient Undead. There's a strong possibility it's connected to his ability."
Ken's eyes sharpened. "If that's the case… then I know exactly which mission I'm taking."
He pulled the mission slip from the board.
"I'm taking this one," he announced.
Lillith raised an eyebrow. "Going solo now, huh?"
Ken smirked. "We're all strong enough to complete missions alone. Or are you saying you're not?"
Lillith scoffed and snatched a Red-rank mission.
Hel sighed and took one as well, while Neebi settled for a Blue-rank mission.
Lillith grinned. "Let's make a bet. Whoever finishes their mission first wins. The loser has to do whatever the winner asks."
Ken chuckled. "As you wish."
Hel groaned. "Why am I involved in this?"