The second day didn't start with a sunrise, but with the insistent, low-frequency hum of a mana-bracelet against Ryan's wrist. He tapped the crystal face, watching the holographic interface bleed into the dim morning light of his suite.
Class Assignment: General Theory & Universal Arts
Location: Hall of Arches
West Wing Ranking Tier: Elite Composite (Alpha Class)
In the exclusive Phoenix Wing, the air felt heavy, almost like breathing silk. Only the Top 5—Alex, Ryan, David, Elena, and Muna—enjoyed the full "Elite" treatment, with high-tier beast meals delivered directly to their doors. Lucas, ranked 8th, shared the prestigious address but not the perks; he still had to make the hungry trek to the communal canteen.
Ryan stepped out of his room to find David already standing. The boy's posture was a bit too stiff, his hand resting habitually on the hilt of his saber.
"The others are waiting at the dormitory gates, sir," David reported.
They met the rest of the group under the obsidian halls of the Phoenix Wing. Alex looked every bit the sun-blessed noble, his golden hair catching the light, while Elena stood slightly apart, her expression a cool, unreadable mask. Lucas was there too, looking a little lean from his trip to the canteen but grinning nonetheless.
"First day of the real grind," Lucas said, adjusting his robes with a nervous twitch. "I heard the Alpha Class professors eat students for breakfast."
"As long as they don't talk as much as you, I'll take my chances," David shot back, though there was less bite in his voice than usual.
As the group moved toward the Hall, a splash of color joined their monochrome squad. Jasmine hurried toward them, her leg nearly healed and her face flushed from the walk. Because of her rare affinity for Medicine Refinement and her 4-star talent, she'd bypassed the brutal combat trials - a move that had sparked some quiet grumbling among the lower ranks.
"Jasmine," Ryan acknowledged, his voice softening just a fraction. He looked at the others. "This is Jasmine, granddaughter of Professor Olivia. She'll be joining our theory track."
"Medicine Refinement?" Lucas's eyes widened, his scholarly instincts kicking in. "A 4-star talent in alchemy? You're basically a walking treasure chest, you know that?"
Jasmine laughed, a bright, silver sound, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she stepped into stride beside Ryan. "I just hope I don't drag you 'combat monsters' down in the lecture halls."
They entered the hall, a majestic space of white marble and high, vaulted ceilings. At the front stood Professor Valerius, a man who radiated the sharp, metallic pressure of the Middle-Phase Gold Stage. In a school of thousands, he was one of the few elites; only Professor Olivia and Professor Silas of Law Enforcement held the rank of Peak Gold, standing just beneath the Dharma Stage shadow of the Principal.
"Sit," Valerius commanded. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of a physical blow.
So they joined the class it consisted of 30 students.
"In this realm," Valerius began, his eyes scanning the elite batch, "we draw a line between Martial Artists and Mages. It is a line drawn in sand, Every one of you must master Universal Spells. Cleaning, lighting, and basic flight are fueled by raw mana, not specific attributes. Even the strongest Martial Artist is just a target if he cannot cast a 'Blink' or 'Flight' at the Gold Stage and a Mage who cannot run is a dead Mage."
The lecture shifted into the dense, mathematical circuitry of mana-flow. To the surprise of everyone except perhaps Ryan, Lucas was transformed. The loud-mouthed bickerer vanished. In his place was a Silver Early-Phase Mage who lived for the knowledge.
"Who can explain the derivation of the 2nd-Grade 'Blink' spell?" Valerius asked, his gaze lingering on the top-ranked students.
Lucas's hand was up before the Professor finished. "It's a space-compression technique, sir. By folding the localized mana field at the Silver Stage, you shorten ten meters into a single step, provided your anchor point is stable."
"And the physical toll?"
"Significant for a Martial Artist," Lucas answered fluently. "Their channels are built for internal reinforcement, not external projection. The recoil is like a hammer to the meridians so it is not recommended below Silver stage for martial artist , from silver meridians are powerful enough to handle spell.
Ryan watched from the back row, his mind whirring. Lucas isn't just noise. He's the group's brain. In a world where evolution could take decades, Ryan knew that a sharp mind was often more lethal than a sharp blade, he had to take him under his wings.
The day blurred through sessions of Beast Anatomy and Artifact refining, leaving the students mentally drained by the time the final bell rang.
"Enough books," Alex said, standing and stretching his muscles until his joints popped. "I'm from the North, so I don't have a family manor sitting around here to host you all. But," he grinned, "my allowance arrived this morning. I'm taking over the VIP section of the Academy canteen tonight. Ryan, no excuses. You're coming."
Ryan considered it for a heartbeat. Networking, Visibility, Control. "I'll be there."
The Academy canteen was a sprawling hall, but the VIP section was a glass-walled terrace that overlooked the training grounds. Alex had clearly spent a small fortune. He had commissioned the Academy chefs to prepare Snow-Leopard Carp and Aged Spiritual Wine, dishes usually reserved for professors.
As Ryan moved into the candlelit section of the canteen, his cold-indifferent aura acted like a gravitational pull. Even though they weren't in a private manor, the separation was clear. Beyond the glass, hundreds of average students watched the "Monsters" eat like kings.
Small groups of first-year girls clustered near the entrance of the VIP area, whispering behind their hands and blushing whenever Ryan glanced their way. Ryan ignored them, sipping his wine with a detached, aristocratic elegance.
"He's like an ice statue," one girl whispered, her face glowing pink. "He doesn't even care that everyone is watching. He looks at this banquet like it's just another piece on a board."
Ryan caught Alex's eye from across the table and offered a slow, subtle raise of his glass. The "Ragnor" name was out in the open now, and tonight, Ryan wasn't just a student—he was a sovereign in the making, even in the middle of a school cafeteria.