I have to make Octavia Blake one of my allies.
That thought echoed in my head even as the line of cadets shortened. The selection was nearing my turn, and the tension in the hall had begun to thicken. For the past hour, I had watched as students, their faces a mix of anxiety and quiet excitent, chose their paths. A boy with hands like a mason’s chose a heavy war hamr, his eyes full of a silent, brutish strength. Another girl, petite and quick, chose a pair of gleaming daggers, a smile dancing on her lips. Every choice was a story waiting to be written.
"Next person, co up please," the instructor called out.
My pulse quickened. The air, already thick with anticipation, now felt heavy with a weight I had to shoulder alone. This wasn’t just about a weapon; it was about staking a claim.
"Oh, it’s my ti." I muttered under my breath and straightened my posture. "I should quickly go up."
The array of weapons glittered beneath the high ceiling of the armory hall. Spears, bows, axes, and the more refined swords rested in their racks, polished until their edges seed to gleam with nace. And then, the simple wands plain but brimming with an aura only those attuned to mana could sense. Each one a piece of a hero’s future, laid out for the taking.
"It’s hard to choose..." I whispered, my eyes roaming over them.
In truth, it wasn’t. I already knew what suited best. My past life, my skills, and my understanding of this world’s chanics all pointed to one conclusion. While others were forced to pick a single specialization, my abilities gave a rare flexibility.
"I should just pick the two I’m good at from the very beginning," I told myself firmly.
Sword and magic—two paths most cadets would never dare to combine. The sword demanded constant physical training, discipline, and a close-quarters mindset. Magic required intense ntal focus, arcane knowledge, and a mastery of mana flow. They were diatrically opposed, a pair of disciplines that would tear an ordinary mind in two. But I had the skills, or at least the beginnings of them. My swordsmanship wasn’t dazzling yet, but it was solid. My magic, though raw, carried a spark that felt like it could be honed into sothing greater.
"I should go for sword and magic," I declared softly, more to reassure myself than anyone else.
With steady hands, I picked up a sword first. The steel was cool and reassuring, as though it had been waiting for all along. The weight in my hand felt natural, a perfect extension of my will.
Ding! [You have chosen a Sword]
Then, without hesitation, I reached for the wand, its smooth, wooden shaft humming faintly with mana as my fingers closed around it.
Ding! [You have chosen a Wand]
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. My choice was a public declaration, a brazen display of my intentions.
"A sword and a wand, huh?" A familiar voice cut through the murmurs.
I turned my head slightly. Ronan Wolfe, one of the academy’s instructors, was watching closely. There was a look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite decipher, a flicker of sothing almost like approval.
"Yes," I replied. "I’m picking up the two. I can’t drop one."
It looked, for a second, like he was about to caution against it. His brows furrowed, his lips parting as if to say, "That’s not how we do things here." The academy’s tradition was one of specialization, of focusing on a single path to mastery.
But instead, he smiled. It was a wide, genuine smile that seed to fill the entire hall.
"As expected of Cadet Kael Vi-rel," Ronan said loudly, his voice carrying across the entire hall. "I hope you beco a hero who will shine and serve our country in the coming future."
"...What?" I blinked, caught off guard.
The students around us stirred with murmurs, and I swore I could feel daggers in their stares.
"I really like the idea of creating your own path and style with sword and magic," Ronan continued, his tone full of a strange, misdirected pride.
This mood is quite strange... this guy is misunderstanding , I thought, resisting the urge to bury my face in my hands. He saw my choices as a sign of genius, a bold new style to pioneer. The truth was far more practical: I needed every advantage I could get.
"But," he added, his tone sharpening, a subtle warning entering his voice, "that’s only if you have the talent to develop both at once."
He turned, addressing the other cadets now, as though my choice had beco an example for them to learn from.
"Just like Cadet Kael Vi-rel," Ronan bood, "not everyone can choose two weapons. There are possibilities, but also limitations. Even if you were called a genius and entered this academy, failure is common."
The words might have been ant as encouragent, a lesson in humility, but they twisted into sothing else entirely. The other students didn’t hear a warning; they heard a challenge. The instructor had put on a pedestal. They saw as the academy’s new pet project, a golden boy with a guaranteed path to success.
I could feel the heat of their glares. The cadets’ eyes burned with irritation, jealousy, and mockery. So sneered, their lips curling into thin lines. Others whispered harshly, their words cutting through the air like invisible knives.
"Show-off." "Ugly guy thinks he’s special." "Death wish."
Their judgnt wrapped around like chains, suffocating and heavy. It was a storm of resentnt, born from a simple misunderstanding.
"...I just want to go ho," I muttered under my breath.
Later, in the quiet of my room, I finally exhaled the tension that had been sitting heavy on my chest. The door was closed, the outside world and its judgnts sealed away. This was my sanctuary.
"Nice... today, let’s make sure I finish it," I said to myself, my voice echoing faintly in the silence.
The door creaked, and a small voice interrupted.
"Master Kael Vi-rel. You can’t overexert yourself," Hay said. Her ound eyes reflected both concern and loyalty.
"It’s okay. Don’t worry," I reassured her. "I’ve prepared thoroughly, and I won’t pass out this ti." I had learned my lesson from the first failed attempt.
Reviews
All reviews (0)