The stairs creaked slightly as we ascended, opening into a wider, more inviting hallway. The space felt alive, with small benches lining the walls where students lounged, chatting quietly or flipping through books. Shelves filled with knickknacks and potted plants broke up the monotony of the walls, giving the corridor a warm, lived-in atmosphere. In one corner, a cluster of small tables and chairs was arranged, with a few students sipping steaming mugs while poring over notes or laughing at some shared joke. The faint hum of conversation filled the air, punctuated by the clink of ceramic and the rustle of pages.

Beneath my feet, a rich, velvety rug stretched the length of the corridor. Its deep crimson and gold patterns were intricate, almost hypnotic, but the most peculiar thing about it was the way it shifted. I noticed a few muddy footprints I'd left behind when we had first entered, but as I took another step, the marks began to fade, the rug’s fibers knitting together with a gentle, almost imperceptible ripple, erasing the evidence of my presence as if by magic.

“Wow.” I muttered.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “That’s what I said when I first saw this place. It’s huge.”

Liam led me through this bustling scene, his stride calm. At the very end of the corridor, where the lively atmosphere gave way to quieter surroundings, he turned left. There, a small set of four steps led downward to a plain wooden door. With a quick glance back to ensure I was following, he pulled the handle and stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter.

The room was barely more than a closet. A single bed, its thin mattress looking worse for wear, was crammed against the right wall. The door brushed its edges when fully opened. Opposite the bed sat a tiny desk and chair, both scratched and wobbly, with a small window above them. A single candle mounted near the door provided the only light, casting faint shadows on the peeling white walls.

Liam wrinkled his nose. “This is… pathetic.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I muttered, stepping inside.

“You sure you want this room?” he asked, crossing his arms. “We can still put you in a shared one.”

I shook my head. “No. This works.”

Liam sighed, his expression skeptical but resigned. “Your call. You can change it whenever you want.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and glancing around the room. “My call, huh…”

Liam paused at the top of the steps, glancing down at the narrow space I was now calling home. His sharp eyes met mine, his brow furrowing slightly. I stood near the bed, arms loosely crossed, my expression unreadable. The state of the room didn’t faze me much. My old room had been worse—ants crawling in through every crevice, and the damp, rotting floorboards constantly emitting a stench that stuck to me like a second skin. I used to bathe twice a day just to avoid the whispers of unkind classmates accusing me of never showering.

Compared to that, this was manageable. The only thing I truly missed was the comfort of my old bed—a sanctuary where I could escape the world. Even in my bleakest moments, it had been my safe haven. No one else, no eyes watching me—just me and my relentless, boring thoughts.

“I’ll head out now,” Liam said, adjusting his glasses as he straightened up. “Room 401, top floor, if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to come by.”

“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice steady. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“As head of the student council, it’s my duty,” he replied with a curt nod, already stepping back. “Good luck, Axel.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Goodbye.” I watched him leave, his footsteps fading as he ascended the steps.

Just as I turned to close the door, a figure appeared at the bottom of the small staircase—a boy who looked vaguely familiar. My eyes lingered on him as he approached, trying to place his face, but my brain, ever quick to discard unremarkable details, refused to cooperate. Still, I was certain we’d crossed paths before.

“Hey,” the boy greeted, stopping just outside the door. His eyes flicked over the cramped room, and he winced. “Yikes. This is… uh… cozy.”

“Yeah.” My tone was flat, almost disinterested. “Not much space for two people, so I won’t even invite you in.”

He chuckled awkwardly, shifting on his feet. “I’m Aiden. Mortan’s son. We’ve met before, I think?”

“Oh, right. Aiden.” I nodded, though my voice betrayed no real recognition. “Nice to see you again.”

“You live alone?” He asked, his gaze sweeping the tiny room again. “My friends and I are just down the hall—second floor. We’ve got an extra bed in our room if you want to join us. It’d be less… depressing.”

“No, thanks.” I leaned against the doorframe, keeping my tone polite but firm. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother. But I appreciate the offer.”

He hesitated, as if unsure how to respond, then gave a small shrug. “Well, alright. Just thought I’d say hi to our new neighbor.”

“Neighbor,” I repeated, a hint of amusement in my otherwise dull tone. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Anyway,” Aiden continued, stepping back, “dinner’s almost ready. They’re serving it early since classes are out for the day. Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Could use some food.”

“Great, follow me.” He led the way down the hall, his footsteps light against the wooden floor.

As we descended the stairs, the rich aroma of spices and cooking meat wafted up, teasing my senses. My stomach growled audibly, earning a chuckle from Aiden. On the first floor, the dining area was already bustling with students. Tables had been pushed together to accommodate larger groups, laughter and chatter filling the space. Behind the counter, the mustached man from earlier was handing out steaming plates of food, his cheerful demeanor infecting the room with warmth.

“Stew’s on the menu,” Aiden said over his shoulder, grinning. “Smells good, right?”

I nodded slightly, keeping my face neutral even as the scent made my stomach clench in anticipation. We joined the line, the students ahead of us chatting animatedly.

“So, Axel,” Aiden started, glancing at me, “how’d you find Redwood so far?”

“It’s… big,” I admitted after a pause. “Never been to a school like this.”

He smirked. “It’s one of the biggest in Nu’tar. They like to brag about that a lot.”

I offered a noncommittal hum in response.

Aiden’s tone shifted slightly, more curious now. “By the way, you did a solid job during that fight alongside the Queen. I don’t know if I could’ve handled it.”

“Just had some luck on my side,” I replied, stepping forward as the line moved.

“Luck?” He raised a brow. “Come on, I saw how much mana you poured into that fireball. No way you’re F-Class. You’ve gotta be at least B.”

“Like I said,” I repeated, keeping my voice level, “a little luck.”

He gave me a skeptical look but didn’t push further. Instead, he grinned. “You thinking of joining the tournament?”

I tilted my head slightly. “Tournament?”

“Yeah,” Aiden explained. “First, it’s just our school—a tournament with participants from every class. Then the winners go on to face students from other schools. It’s a big deal. Tons of people come to watch.”

“Not really my thing,” I replied, shaking my head as we neared the counter. “I’d rather not.”

“Fair enough,” he said, shrugging. “Though the prize is 250 gold. Imagine what you could do with that.”

“Hmm.” I glanced at him briefly, my expression unchanged. “Yeah.”

“Axel, the new student!” the man behind the counter exclaimed with a broad grin as the line moved forward. “You’re in luck—my special stew today.”

I stared at him, deadpan. “Yeah, lucky me. So much luck…”