The room remained quiet for a while after everyone settled in.
Outside the tall window, the evening light stretched across the academy grounds, painting the stone paths and towers in a soft golden color. From this height, Kael could see students moving below like small figures, some in robes, some in training clothes, all heading somewhere with clear purpose.
This place never seemed to stop moving.
Aren had already claimed the bed closest to the door and was lying on it with one arm behind his head.
"…I still can't believe we actually made it," he muttered.
Across the room, Draven stood near the wall with his arms crossed, his dark eyes half-lidded as he observed everything in silence.
By the window, Rylan remained seated, his gray eyes resting on the academy grounds outside. Even in stillness, there was something composed about him, as if silence suited him better than conversation.
Kael sat on the edge of his bed, his gaze moving slowly around the room.
Four beds.
Four desks.
A narrow bookshelf against the wall.
Simple.
But enough.
A sharp knock broke the silence.
Three short taps.
Everyone looked toward the door.
Aren sat up slightly. "Already?"
Kael stood and opened it.
Outside stood a young woman in an academy uniform.
She looked slightly older than them, perhaps in her late teens. Her black hair was tied neatly behind her head, and her amber eyes carried a clear and disciplined sharpness.
"New students of Room 3–17?" she asked.
Kael nodded.
"Orientation begins in ten minutes. Follow the marked path to the central hall."
Her tone was calm, but it carried the firmness of someone used to being obeyed.
Aren gave a low sigh from behind. "No rest, huh?"
The girl's expression did not change.
"This is Aetherion Academy," she replied. "Rest is earned."
With that, she turned and walked away.
Aren stared at the doorway for a moment before looking at Kael.
"…I think I already hate this place."
Rylan let out the faintest breath that might have been a laugh.
Draven pushed himself off the wall. "Move."
They left the room together.
The corridor outside was no longer empty. Doors were opening one after another, and newly accepted students stepped out in small groups, their faces carrying the same mixture of exhaustion and curiosity.
As they followed the marked path, Kael's gaze wandered across the academy.
At night, the place looked even more impressive.
Tall towers rose into the darkening sky, their surfaces marked with glowing magical lines that pulsed softly like veins of light. Stone lamps lined the walkways, each one holding a floating sphere of pale blue light instead of flame.
The air was cool.
Still.
Yet filled with faint traces of mana.
It was not overwhelming.
But it was everywhere.
When they reached the central hall, Kael stopped for a moment.
The building was enormous.
Massive stone pillars supported the entrance, each one carved with ancient symbols and patterns that looked almost alive in the lamplight.
Students continued to gather.
Some whispered.
Some stayed silent.
Some looked at others with obvious judgment.
Aren clicked his tongue quietly. "Looks like everyone's sizing each other up."
Draven's gaze swept across the room. "They should."
Kael understood.
This was an academy built on strength.
Everyone here was already measuring everyone else.
Inside, the hall was wide enough to hold hundreds.
Rows of seats rose in layers, and at the very front stood a raised platform.
Several figures were already there.
Teachers.
Or something close to it.
One of them stepped forward.
A middle-aged man.
His silver hair was combed neatly back, and his deep blue eyes were sharp enough to make the hall gradually fall silent. He wore a long dark robe marked with silver lines that shimmered faintly whenever he moved.
There was nothing exaggerated about him.
And yet—
His presence alone commanded attention.
"Welcome," he said.
His voice was calm, but every word reached the farthest corner of the hall.
"You have passed the entrance trial and become students of Aetherion Academy."
A brief pause followed.
No one dared interrupt.
"But understand this clearly."
His blue eyes swept across the room.
"Passing the trial only gave you the right to stand here."
The words settled heavily.
Aren straightened slightly.
Kael's eyes narrowed.
The man continued.
"From tomorrow onward, your real training begins."
A faint murmur spread through the students.
"Your first semester will determine your class placement, access to resources, and future instructors."
Now that—
That was important.
Kael could feel the atmosphere shift.
Students were no longer merely listening.
They were thinking.
Comparing.
Planning.
"Those with talent will rise quickly," the man said calmly. "Those without discipline will fall just as quickly."
Silence returned.
At the side, one of the teachers lifted a hand.
A soft magical formation appeared in the air.
Not for ranking.
For information.
Symbols formed slowly in pale light.
Aren leaned slightly closer.
"Semester rules," he muttered.
Kael read the floating words carefully.
Training grounds.
Magic tower access.
Combat classes.
Mana control lessons.
Swordsmanship practice.
Weekly evaluations.
His eyes paused there.
Evaluations.
So that was how they would begin measuring everyone.
Not today.
But soon.
The man on the platform spoke once more.
"Tonight, you rest."
Aren visibly relaxed.
"Tomorrow, your first class begins."
Kael looked toward the glowing symbols once more.
Then at the teachers.
Then at the countless students around him.
This academy was not merely a place to learn.
It was a place where strength would be tested again and again.
And somewhere in the quiet center of his thoughts—
Something stirred.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
Resolve.
The trial had brought him here.
But everything after this—
Would decide what kind of person he would become.