Night had settled over Crownspire Academy.
Most of the campus had already grown quiet, the polished white halls and glass walkways reflecting the soft glow of the mana lamps that floated lazily above the grounds. Yet one place remained far from silent.
The student cafeteria.
Unlike the daytime calm Damon usually experienced there, the large hall was now packed almost to capacity. Long tables that normally held scattered groups of diners were filled from end to end, and clusters of students stood between the aisles as the murmuring crowd struggled to fit everyone inside.
Nearly half of the first-year class had gathered.
Almost one hundred and fifty students, and every one of them shared something in common.
They were commoners.
No noble crests.
No personal attendants.
No aristocratic surnames.
At the front of the hall, three students stood facing the crowd—two young men and one young woman who appeared to have taken the lead in organizing the meeting.
One of the young men stepped forward first, scanning the crowded room with visible satisfaction.
"Looks like everyone's here," he said.
The murmuring crowd slowly quieted as the female student stepped forward beside him. Her long chestnut hair fell neatly across her shoulders as she raised both hands and clapped once, drawing the remaining conversations to a halt.
"First of all," she said clearly, her voice carrying across the packed cafeteria, "thank you all for coming here tonight."
Before she could continue, a voice rose from near the front of the crowd.
"Why exactly did you call all of us here?" a student asked. "And more importantly… why are there no noble students here?"
The question rippled through the hall.
Several heads turned toward the direction of the voice.
The female student nodded calmly.
"Good question," she replied. "And it relates to you as well… Lucian."
Lucian stood among the students near the front, his sky-blue hair catching the dim light of the cafeteria lamps. His calm expression tightened slightly as his blue eyes narrowed in curiosity.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
The female student exchanged a glance with the two young men standing beside her before continuing.
"First let me introduce myself, my name is Alina. All of us here share the same background," she said. "We are commoners."
Murmurs spread through the room again.
"And no matter how talented we may be," one of the male students continued, stepping forward, "the truth is that nobles will always see us as inferior."
His words struck a chord with many in the room.
"You've all seen it already," the other young man added. "Even inside this academy, nobles carry themselves like they own the place."
A few students nodded reluctantly.
The chestnut-haired girl continued.
"We spoke with several commoner seniors earlier this week," she explained. "They told us how things truly work here."
Her tone sharpened.
"Nobles never take us seriously. They dominate the higher classes, control the best resources, and push commoners aside whenever it suits them."
The first male student crossed his arms.
"And outside the academy?" he continued. "It's even worse."
"They control the lands, the armies, the wealth."
"Commoners like us?" he scoffed lightly.
"We're expected to serve them."
The murmurs grew louder.
"So the question is simple," the female student said firmly. "Shouldn't we do something about this?"
The cafeteria erupted into overlapping voices.
"They're right!"
"If we don't do something now, we'll just get crushed!"
"Our only fate will be being trampled by nobles!"
Yet not everyone agreed.
"But… they haven't actually done anything to us yet," another student argued cautiously.
"Why should we make ourselves a target?"
"Starting trouble with nobles could make things worse…"
The voices clashed back and forth for several moments.
But slowly—
The balance of the room shifted.
More and more students began agreeing with the speakers at the front.
"Yes!"
"They're right!"
"We can't just sit back!"
Seeing the mood of the crowd changing, the three students at the front exchanged satisfied smiles.
"That's exactly why we called this meeting," the chestnut-haired girl said.
Her voice carried easily across the hall.
"We have an idea."
The two young men stepped forward beside her.
"To show those nobles something important," one of them continued.
"If we commoners stand together—"
The other finished the sentence.
"—then we are not so easy to oppress."
The female student nodded.
"If we show them that we are united, they will think twice before targeting any of us."
She looked across the room.
"So the real question is…"
Her voice rose.
"Are you with us?"
For a brief moment the cafeteria held its breath.
Then—
"YES!"
The response came from dozens of voices at once, rising into a loud collective shout that echoed through the hall.
She asked again, this time with more intensity, "ARE YOU WITH US!?"
"YESSS!!"
Only one voice remained calm.
Lucian.
He stepped slightly forward, his expression thoughtful as the noise around him slowly faded.
"What exactly is your plan?" he asked.
***
The noble dormitory stood on the northern side of Crownspire Academy, separated from the common student housing by a wide courtyard lined with luminous crystal lamps and carefully trimmed gardens. Even from the outside, the difference in status was obvious.
Where the commoner dorms were simple and efficient, the noble residence looked more like a luxurious estate.
Tall white pillars supported an arched entrance hall, and vast panels of enchanted glass allowed soft golden light to spill out into the night. The interior followed the same pristine white and gold theme as the academy, but with far richer decoration—polished marble floors, velvet seating, intricate mana chandeliers, and long walls decorated with paintings depicting noble houses and historical victories.
At the center of the building lay the noble lounge.
It was a spacious hall furnished with wide sofas and low tables crafted from white crystal stone. A quiet fireplace burned along the far wall, its mana-fueled flames glowing with a steady blue light that illuminated the room.
Around a dozen noble students had gathered there.
They sat comfortably across the sofas, some leaning back with relaxed confidence while others swirled glasses of expensive wine in their hands.
Behind each of them stood their personal attendants, dressed in neat uniforms while holding trays of refreshments, quietly refilling glasses whenever needed.
The atmosphere was calm.
Almost conspiratorial.
A young man with neatly combed green hair stood near the center of the lounge, looking around at the gathered nobles with a small, composed smile.
"Well now," he said smoothly, "it seems we are the only ones who bothered to attend."
Several of the nobles nodded in agreement.
One of them scoffed openly.
"Hmph… the rest are too absorbed in themselves," he said while lifting his glass lazily. "Each of them thinks they can handle everything on their own."
He took a long drink before setting the glass back on the table with a faint clink.
"Arrogant fools."
The green-haired student raised a calming hand, his smile widening slightly as he addressed the room again.
"Come now," he said gently. "As nobles, it is our responsibility to ensure that the prestige of the noble houses remains intact."
Several of the students nodded immediately.
"Of course."
"Naturally."
"Someone has to maintain order."
The green-haired young man clasped his hands behind his back.
"And unfortunately," he continued calmly, "there is someone who has recently been… damaging that very prestige."
His gaze shifted slowly across the room before settling on a particular student seated quietly near the end of the sofa.
She had been sitting silently the entire time, her attention seemingly lost in her own thoughts.
The green-haired student tilted his head slightly.
"Isn't that right… Miss Raventhal?"
The woman looked up.
For a moment she simply nodded.
Then she hesitated.
Seeing her reaction, the green-haired noble's smile sharpened slightly.
"I have obtained some information regarding tomorrow's class placement examination," he continued smoothly.
The room grew noticeably quieter.
"If everything proceeds as expected," he said, his voice lowering just enough to sound conspiratorial, "we will have an opportunity to cleanse the stain currently tarnishing the prestige of the noble houses."
He paused for effect.
"…from this academy."
Around the room, several nobles exchanged glances.
Then slow smiles began appearing on their faces.
A few of them even chuckled softly.
One lifted his glass.
"Well," he said with a faint smirk.
"That sounds like a very productive examination."
***
Far from the polished halls of the academy buildings, beyond the marble walkways and crystal towers, lay the open training grounds used primarily by the beastmen students.
Unlike the elegant arenas and glass chambers favored by the other races, this place looked far more primitive.
The ground was raw packed soil, scarred by countless battles and footprints. There were no polished floors here, no delicate mana panels or glowing crystal structures—only open space, wooden weapon racks, scattered stone pillars, and wide circles of trampled dirt where fights regularly took place.
And tonight, the place was alive with noise.
Various beastmen and beastwomen clashed across the field, their powerful bodies colliding in brutal sparring matches. Claws scraped against dirt, fists slammed into muscle, and bodies crashed against the ground as combatants tested their strength against one another.
A wolf-eared youth locked arms with a broad-shouldered tiger beastman, both straining as they tried to overpower the other.
Nearby, a horned goat beastwoman spun through the air and tackled a bulky lizard beastman straight into the dirt.
Each time a match ended, the result was never quiet.
The winner would roar or raise their fists while the others howled with laughter and approval.
"HAHHAAH!"
"Good hit!"
"Do it again!"
Loud cheers and rough laughter spread throughout the training grounds as fight after fight erupted across the field.
At the center of it all stood a tall woman with curved bull horns rising proudly from her head.
Khaira.
She stood with her arms loosely crossed, watching the chaos with clear boredom in her fiery orange eyes. None of the surrounding fights seemed to interest her in the slightest.
A large beastman approached her then.
He was tall and broad, with thick dark fur running along his arms and jaw, his heavy steps leaving deep prints in the soil. As he walked up to her, he slammed his fists together with a loud crack.
"Khaira…" he rumbled, his voice carrying the heavy rolled accent common among the beastmen. "Tomorrow… Ah'm gonna beat tha shit outta that man."
Khaira barely glanced at him.
"So?" she replied flatly.
The beastman laughed loudly.
"HAHH! Ah just hope ya don't go interferin' when tha time comes!"
Khaira's expression remained completely uninterested.
"What's that gotta do with me?" she said lazily. "If he can't even beat ya… Ah won't have any reason ta fight him."
The beastman's grin widened.
His booming laugh echoed across the field, drawing the attention of several other beastmen nearby.
"Heheheh! Khaira… then what about—"
His words cut off suddenly.
Before he could finish, Khaira stepped forward.
Then stomped her foot down hard onto his.
The ground cracked slightly under the impact.
The beastman howled instantly.
"RRRAAAGHH—!"
Khaira looked at him coldly.
"If ya want somethin' from me…" she said calmly, her orange eyes flashing with challenge, "…then defeat me."
She stepped back, crossing her arms again.
"Beat me… and everythin' is yours."
The surrounding beastmen had gathered by now, watching the exchange with growing excitement.
Several of them cracked their knuckles eagerly.
"Hahaha!"
"Khaira!"
"Then first we'll dismantle that coward tomorrow!"
"And after that—!"
One of them slammed his fist into his palm.
"We'll clash fists with you!"
The entire group burst into wild howls of excitement.
"RRRAAAHHHH!"
Their roars echoed across the open training ground as the beastmen raised their fists toward the night sky.
***
In a quiet grove near the far end of the academy grounds, where tall silver-leafed trees swayed gently under the night sky, a small group of elves stood gathered together.
Unlike the loud chaos of the beastmen training grounds or the scheming whispers of the noble lounge, this place was completely calm.
Not a single raised voice disturbed the air.
Several male and female elves stood in a loose circle beneath the pale moonlight, their long robes and academy uniforms moving softly with the night breeze. Their expressions were composed, their posture elegant, every movement carrying the effortless dignity that seemed natural to their race.
For a while, none of them spoke.
Then one of the elves slowly opened his eyes.
"In tomorrow's class placement examination," he said calmly, his voice steady and measured, "only one of us can rank first."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"But all of us should be placed in Class S."
The others simply nodded.
No arguments.
No excitement.
Just quiet agreement.
A moment later, one of the elven women opened her eyes as well. Her expression carried the faintest trace of disdain.
"Those self-absorbed, disorganized humans…" she said coolly.
Her gaze shifted slightly toward the distant academy buildings.
"And those foolish beastmen who solve everything with brute strength…"
Her lips curved into a faint, dismissive smile.
"How could they possibly compare with us?"
***
Morning arrived at Crownspire Academy with an energy that was impossible to ignore.
Students hurried across the wide white pathways beneath the tall glass towers of the campus, their footsteps echoing across the polished stone as groups rushed toward the main auditorium. Excited voices filled the air—some students spoke nervously about the class placement exam, others argued about strategies, while a few walked with the overly confident energy of those certain they would dominate the test.
"Do you think it'll be only combat?"
"What if it's resonance evaluation?"
"I heard the top 40 will go straight to Class S!"
The murmurs overlapped as streams of students flowed toward the same destination.
Amid the moving crowd, Damon walked calmly.
His pace was unhurried, his expression neutral as he approached the tall doors of the auditorium. Students rushed past him from both sides, but he seemed completely unaffected by the growing tension around him.
He stepped up to the entrance.
Then suddenly—
He turned sharply.
His hand had already begun to rise, instinctively ready to intercept something approaching from behind—
When a loud, miserable wail exploded through the hallway.
"BOSSSSSSS!!!"
Damon froze.
A familiar voice continued dramatically as the figure rushed toward him.
"How could you leave me in that witch's device like that?!"
Eric appeared beside him, looking utterly traumatized.
"You abandoned me to die!"
Damon blinked once.
Then awkwardly lowered his raised hand.
An uncomfortable laugh escaped him.
"Ah—!"