The academy was vast, but at the sa ti it was quite small to contain the absurdity of everything happening every day.
Since the cadets were still at an age where gossip thrived, they tended to form cliques. And in a place like that, rumors spread quickly. Ten minutes was all it took for word to get around this morning’s events.
"...Do you think that instructor will be alright?"
"Who knows?"
"I heard from the upper classn that the guy has a few screws loose in his head."
"You can ss with the Principal, but not him?"
The commoner departnt’s cadets sighed, clearly anxious.
They were uneasy about the instructor assigned to teach them during this grace period.
Grace period.
A period given to newly enrolled people who enter through their own talent to have a chance to catch up with nobles who will enter next.
Around a month is all you have to catch up until nobles start beating you till you’re sore.
If you aren’t strong enough to hold up against them, then be prepared to get beaten, bullied, and have your ego smashed.
Gathered in the training ground were around hundreds of cadets, many of them filled with nervous chatter.
That ant that most of the gathered students here were just with above-average skills.
Among them, so were as skilled as trainee knights, while others barely knew how to hold a sword. The latter were mostly commoners, those who had only received basic training at local schools and orphanages.
So were so lacking that calling what they had learned "basic" felt generous.
And ironically, those were the better ones. There were plenty of others who weren’t interested in even surviving at all, instead hoping to build connections with future knights.
"Still, I didn’t expect him to show up for class."
"I know, right? You’d think he’d prefer to spend his ti on personal training."
But this year, the class was unusually full of talent. Despite the large number of students, this year had its share of prodigies mixed in with the commoners.
One such standout among the new students was Elderic, a prodigy and disciple taken by Silvuba the Great.
As for who she is..
Silvia was said to be the next candidate to beco a Demi-God realm. She was lucky to find Elderic in his rag phase and now pushed him to the riches phase.
He was said to be able to hold his own against fully-fledged knights. But there were others just as noteworthy.
There was the student who was from a famous rcenary group.
Aside from them, there were a few savages from the beast tribes.
Not to ntion the descendants of mysterious bloodlines.
And, of course, there were the mages.
"...Why is she here?" one student muttered.
"I suppose the magic departnt has mostly self-guided classes, so maybe she’s here to fill out her credits or make so connections," another guessed.
"Strange move for a mage, though."
"Agreed."
"The entire crowd is looking at you."
Eleanor froze and crunched her brows as she looked at the man sitting down and grazing grass.
"So what? Do you have a problem with ?"
"Of course not.. Just curious why the hell you are here?"
"Though I have Mage Mystic, I want to be a warrior."
Elderic opened his lips to say sothing but shook it away, making Eleanor give him a glare.
"What’s that face.. Are you looking down on ?"
She was about to say sothing when one of the students spoke.
"Hey... Where is that faker?"
"Faker???"
Question marks appeared over everyone’s face.
"I am talking about Mr Show-off Noel, The Blacksheep."
"Who knows?"
"As usual.. Too afraid to show up."
"Yes.. What can he do after all? He can’t maintain the rank through cheating for eternity."
"It’s gonna blow sooner or later."
The murmurs around the training ground grew louder as groups of students continued gossiping.
Two cadets stood slightly away from the crowd, speaking with animated gestures.
One of them was Ravel, a skinny boy with ssy brown hair who loved rumors more than training.
The other was Derek, taller, with a crooked nose that suggested he had lost more than a few fights in his life.
"That guy is fucking nuts, right?" Ravel whispered loudly.
"Absolutely," Derek nodded vigorously.
"He is a scaredy cat. Didn’t you see yesterday? Too scared to appear in the cafeteria."
Ravel snorted. "How can he appear? After all, he doesn’t have daddy’s protection here. I am waiting for him to be beaten..."
"Acting all mysterious and shi—"
Both of them froze.
A hand had been placed on each of their shoulders at the exact sa mont.
Slowly, very slowly, they turned around.
Purple hair and cold eyes greeted them, along with a face that looked calm enough to attend a tea party while committing a massacre.
Noel.
"You two were saying sothing."
His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise like a blade.
"We—"
Both of their legs suddenly felt cold as Noel’s gaze fell on them like a mountain collapsing. It was sharp, heavy, and oppressive.
Derek’s throat went dry.
Why the fuck is this guy’s gaze so sharp and strong... it’s making sick.
Ravel’s brain was screaming.
DON’T BLINK.
DON’T MOVE.
JUST PRETEND TO BE A ROCK.
But before the two could embarrass themselves further, a voice suddenly interrupted.
"We are talking about you. So what?"
The crowd instinctively parted as a large figure stepped forward.
He had a savage body with broad shoulders and muscles that looked like they were carved from stone. Two tiger ears sat proudly on his head, and a thick striped tail swayed behind him.
The beastman Sunta.
One of the more infamous recruits of this year.
Sunta cracked his knuckles loudly.
"You Are Weakling."
"Sunta Hates weakling!’
The surrounding students inhaled sharply.
Did he just say that to Noel?
Ravel and Derek imdiately stepped two ters away like professional cowards.
Noel blinked once.
Then he smiled.
It was a wide, genuine, and terrifying smile.
"Getting provoked on the first day..." he said while stretching his neck slightly as if loosening his muscles. "Now that’s what I like."
At that ti another one snorted.
"You think I’m scared of so pale noble brat?"
Noel raised a finger thoughtfully and said casually, "Actually, I was getting bored."
His eyes glead.
"After all, I can’t farm aura unless so shithead provokes ."
The crowd went silent.
Sunta’s eye twitched.
"Did you just call a shithead?"
Noel looked around thoughtfully, then leaned closer to Sunta and asked, "Do you see any other shithead here?"
The nearby students imdiately took three steps back.
The boy’s tail puffed up like an angry cat.
"You—!"
He pointed at Noel with a clawed finger.
"I’ll smash your face into the ground!"
Noel nodded approvingly and said, "Yes, violence, excellent," before clapping once like a teacher encouraging participation.
The smile on his face widened even further as he added, "This is already the best possible outco I imagine."
"I love it."
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