The next morning dawned bright and cold, the kind of morning where your breath fogs in the air and every sound seems sharper. I stood at the foot of the Academy gates, staring up at the wrought-iron bars. They towered over me, the intricate designs of runes and filigree glinting faintly in the sunlight. I could feel the hum of mana resonating from them, like a faint vibration just on the edge of my senses.
Hexa, ever curious, commented, “The enchantments are layered. Likely wards against physical and magical intrusion. Elegant work.”
“Elegant or not,” I muttered under my breath, “they make Valda-Ashdock’s wooden fences look like children’s toys.”
The gates opened with a low groan, and I stepped through, joining the trickle of new arrivals streaming onto the campus. Beyond the gates, the Academy grounds stretched out in every direction. Wide cobblestone paths wound through meticulously maintained gardens, and tall, gleaming buildings loomed like sentinels against the backdrop of the Ash Mountains.
----------------------------------------
The sheer scale of it was overwhelming. I’d seen cities in my past life, but there was something distinctly magical about this place—literally. The buildings seemed alive, their surfaces shimmering faintly as if mana coursed through their walls. Statues of past kings and queens lined the main pathway, each one inscribed with glowing plaques that narrated their achievements.
“Hexa, are these projections?” I asked, pausing to examine the plaque at the base of a statue.
“Yes. The mana density in this environment allows for sustained magical displays. It’s a relatively efficient application of ambient mana.”
Efficient or not, it was stunning. I couldn’t help but imagine my parents—or Ava—standing here, their faces lit with the same awe I felt.
----------------------------------------
The faculty had organized a series of introductory tours to help new students acclimate, and I joined one led by a stern-looking woman in emerald robes. She introduced herself as Magister Althea and wasted no time diving into the itinerary.
“This is the central courtyard,” she began, gesturing to the expansive area where we stood. “It serves as the heart of the campus. You’ll find the dining hall, library, and administrative offices surrounding this space.”
Her voice was crisp, her words precise, and I could tell she wasn’t the type to tolerate nonsense.
“The residential quarters are located in the west wing,” she continued, pointing toward a series of buildings with sloping roofs. “Your dormitories have been assigned based on your regions of origin. Familiar faces should help ease your transition.”
----------------------------------------
I found myself grouped with other children from the Ash Kingdom, most of whom had clearly come from wealthier families. Their finely tailored clothes and polished shoes stood in stark contrast to my travel-worn attire. I kept my head down, listening as Magister Althea detailed the rules and expectations.
“You are expected to attend all scheduled classes and adhere to the curfews established by your dormitory supervisors,” she said. “Failure to comply will result in disciplinary action.”
Her sharp gaze scanned the group, lingering on me for a fraction of a second. I straightened instinctively, though she said nothing.
----------------------------------------
The tour continued, and we were shown the dining hall—a cavernous space filled with long tables and chandeliers that floated above, their light soft and warm. The library came next, its shelves towering so high they disappeared into the shadows.
“This,” Hexa whispered in my mind, “is a resource worth leveraging.”
I nodded subtly, already imagining the hours I’d spend pouring over its contents.
----------------------------------------
When the tour concluded, I was led to my dormitory, a modest but well-kept building on the edge of the west wing. The dormitory supervisor, a stout man named Master Fenwick, handed me a key and directed me to my room.
“Room 312,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. “You’ll be sharing with three other boys. Best learn to get along.”
I nodded and climbed the stairs, each step echoing in the quiet hallway. When I reached the door, I hesitated, taking a deep breath before turning the key and stepping inside.
----------------------------------------
The room was simple but comfortable. Four beds were arranged neatly against the walls, each with a small chest at its foot. A single window let in a stream of sunlight, illuminating the wooden floors.
Three boys were already there, unpacking their belongings. They looked up as I entered, their expressions ranging from curiosity to mild indifference.
“Hi,” I said, setting my bag down on the nearest bed.
“Reinfelt,” said the boy closest to me, offering a brief nod. He had sandy blond hair and a confident air that suggested he was used to being in charge.
“Marcus,” said another, his voice quieter. He was smaller than the others, with dark hair and a serious expression.
The third boy simply grunted in acknowledgment, barely glancing up from the book he was flipping through.
“And you?” Reinfelt asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Wolfhart,” I said.
There was a brief silence before Reinfelt shrugged. “Well, Wolfhart, welcome to the dorm.”
----------------------------------------
The rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions and settling in. Despite their initial coolness, my roommates seemed friendly enough, chatting amongst themselves about their hometowns and what they hoped to achieve at the Academy.
I listened more than I spoke, absorbing their stories while keeping my own thoughts to myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to share; I just wasn’t sure how to explain who I was—or who I had been.
----------------------------------------
That night, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Hexa’s voice broke the silence.
“Your roommates appear amiable. It would be advantageous to establish rapport.”
“I know,” I thought back. “But it’s not that simple.”
“Social integration is a skill like any other,” she said. “It can be learned and improved.”
I sighed, closing my eyes. “One step at a time, Hexa.”
----------------------------------------
The next morning, orientation continued with a series of introductory classes designed to familiarize us with the Academy’s curriculum. Most of the lessons covered basic concepts—mana theory, history, and practical applications of magic.
For someone with Hexa’s assistance and my own Earth-based knowledge, it was all painfully elementary. I spent most of the lectures scribbling notes in the margins of my textbooks, jotting down questions and observations to review later.
----------------------------------------
By midday, I found myself wandering the campus during a break, drawn to the expansive gardens near the main hall. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sound of a nearby fountain provided a soothing backdrop.
I found a quiet bench beneath a sprawling tree and sat down, pulling out one of the history textbooks Hexa had from earth. The pages were filled with dense, filmlair script, but I devoured the information eagerly.
“Hexa,” I whispered, “this world is more interconnected than I thought.”
“Indeed,” she replied. “The Nexus functions as both a unifying and divisive force. Its impact on civilization is profound.”
I nodded. The complexities of this world—and the Nexus as a whole—were staggering.
----------------------------------------
The day ended with a formal welcome dinner in the dining hall. The room buzzed with energy as students filled the long tables, their voices blending into a chaotic symphony. Plates piled high with food appeared magically, eliciting gasps of delight from the younger children.
I sat with my roommates, listening as they bantered about the day’s events. Reinfelt seemed to take charge of the conversation, regaling us with stories of his family’s estate and their involvement in local politics.
“And what about you, Wolfhart?” he asked suddenly, turning his attention to me.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
I hesitated, caught off guard. “What about me?”
“Where are you from?” he pressed.
“A fishing village,” I said simply. “Valda-Ashdock.”
Reinfelt raised an eyebrow. “Never heard of it.”
“Most people haven’t,” I said, my tone neutral.
He seemed satisfied with that and turned back to his other stories, leaving me to my thoughts.
----------------------------------------
As the evening wore on, I felt a sense of quiet determination settle over me. The Academy was nothing like I’d expected, but it was an opportunity—a chance to learn, grow, and find my place in this vast, interconnected world.
“Hexa,” I thought as I lay in bed that night, “this is going to be harder than I thought. I never used to push myself on earth, hell I didn't do much in 30 years.”
“Hardship often precedes growth,” she replied. “Embrace the challenge.”
I smiled faintly, closing my eyes. One step at a time, I reminded myself. One step at a time.
The first week at the Academy passed in a blur of rigid schedules and new faces. Every hour seemed meticulously planned, from our first morning bell to the final lights-out in the dormitories. The Academy wasn’t just a school; it was a machine, its gears turning to shape us into something sharper, stronger, and more efficient.
But what that something was, I hadn’t yet figured out.
----------------------------------------
My roommates, Reinfelt, Marcus, and the perpetually quiet boy I’d come to know as Eren, were more comfortable in the new environment than I was. While they joked, teased, and navigated the Academy’s halls with ease, I found myself hanging back, observing the dynamics of this new world.
Reinfelt, the natural leader of our little group, exuded confidence. He had a knack for turning even the simplest interactions into opportunities to assert himself. Marcus was the conversationalist, constantly asking questions and filling silences with anecdotes. Eren, on the other hand, was a shadow—a silent observer who rarely spoke unless prompted.
“Wolfhart,” Reinfelt said one evening, tossing a small cloth ball into the air as he lounged on his bed. “Why are you so quiet all the time? You’re like Eren, but even weirder.”
“I’m not weird,” I replied, setting down the history textbook I’d been reading.
“You don’t talk,” Marcus chimed in, sitting cross-legged on his bunk. “You’re always reading or staring at stuff like it’s about to jump out at you.”
“I think a lot,” I said simply.
Reinfelt laughed. “You think too much. Sometimes you just have to do, you know? Swing a sword, say something stupid, live a little.”
I managed a small smile but said nothing. I’d learned quickly that sharing too much would only isolate me further.
----------------------------------------
Classes were a mixed bag. The basics—math, mana theory, language studies—were easy enough, their content almost laughably simple when paired with Hexa’s assistance. I breezed through most lessons, earning the occasional curious glance from my instructors but nothing more.
The first week wasn’t without its challenges. Navigating the sprawling campus was a trial in itself, and the sheer number of students made it difficult to find moments of solitude.
One afternoon, after finishing my assigned coursework early, I found myself wandering the gardens near the western wing. The air was cool and fragrant, the sound of birdsong and running water offering a rare sense of peace.
I settled onto a bench beneath a towering tree, pulling out one of my personal notebooks. As I began jotting down ideas about the Nexus and its implications for mana flow, I heard a voice behind me.
“You always writing stuff down?”
I turned to see Marcus, his dark hair slightly mussed from the wind. He was carrying a wooden practice sword, his tunic damp with sweat from a recent sparring session.
“Sometimes,” I said, closing the notebook.
He sat down beside me, studying the cover of the book. “What’s it about? Anything interesting?”
“Just ideas,” I said vaguely. “Things I’m trying to figure out.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “You should come spar with us sometime,” he said instead. “Reinfelt’s been bragging about how good he is. Someone needs to knock him down a peg.”
I chuckled softly. “I’m not much of a fighter.”
“That’s the point of practice,” Marcus said, grinning. “Come on. It’s more fun than sitting out here alone.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I meant it.
----------------------------------------
The dormitory grew louder as the week went on, the energy of the new students spilling into every corner. Boys raced through the halls, shouting challenges and daring one another to sneak into restricted areas. The occasional scuffle broke out, only to be swiftly silenced by the stern gaze of Master Fenwick.
Reinfelt thrived in this chaos, gathering an ever-growing group of admirers who laughed at his jokes and followed his lead. Marcus, too, found his place easily, joining in the camaraderie with an ease I envied.
Eren and I, meanwhile, remained on the outskirts. Though we rarely spoke, there was an unspoken understanding between us—a mutual preference for quiet observation over loud participation.
At the end of the first week I was beginning to settle into a rhythm, blending observation with reluctant participation. Then came the raid.
----------------------------------------
It started like any other day. Our group of first-years was gathered in one of the courtyards for a practical mana demonstration. The instructor, Magister Althea, was guiding us through an exercise in ambient mana detection.
“Close your eyes and focus,” she said, her tone sharp but calm. “Feel the flow of mana in the air around you. It is constant, subtle, and vital to your understanding of this world.”
I closed my eyes and reached out with my senses. Hexa’s voice whispered softly in my mind, offering guidance.
“Ambient mana density here is approximately 4.8 times that of Valda-Ashdock. Focus on the increase—it should feel like a thicker current.”
I nodded slightly, concentrating on the sensation. The mana here felt alive, swirling like a faint breeze brushing against my skin. It was both exhilarating and overwhelming.
“Good,” Hexa said. “You’re adapting faster than expected.”
“Quiet,” I thought back. “You’re distracting me.”
----------------------------------------
The lesson was interrupted by the sudden, jarring toll of the raid bell. Its deep, resonant clang echoed across the campus, silencing the chatter of students and drawing gasps of alarm from those unfamiliar with its sound.
“What’s happening?” someone whispered.
“Remain calm,” Magister Althea commanded, her voice cutting through the rising murmur of panic. “Follow me immediately to the nearest shelter.”
The atmosphere shifted in an instant. Students scrambled to gather their things as the magister herded us toward a nearby building. The raid shelter, as she called it, was a reinforced structure designed to protect civilians during monster attacks.
I’d heard of these shelters in Valda-Ashdock, but I’d never seen one up close. The thick, enchanted doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a dimly lit interior lined with rows of stone benches.
“Inside, quickly!” Althea urged, her tone leaving no room for argument.
We filed in, the heavy doors sealing shut behind us. The sudden quiet was unnerving, broken only by the faint hum of the mana-powered defenses that lined the walls.
----------------------------------------
Hexa’s voice broke the silence in my mind.
“The raid outside is escalating. I’m detecting multiple high-mana entities converging on the capital’s perimeter. It seems that raids while weekly have a slight time deviation within the larger cities making them harder to prepare for.”
“How bad is it?” I asked silently.
“Based on the sounds and movements I’ve analyzed, the capital guard is engaging a force of significant size—likely numbering in the thousands.”
Thousands. My heart sank at the thought. In Valda-Ashdock, raids were small, localized skirmishes. Here, they were battles.
The shelter vibrated faintly as distant booms echoed through the city. The sounds of clashing weapons, inhuman roars, and shouted commands filtered through the thick walls, a chaotic symphony that painted a grim picture of the scene outside.
----------------------------------------
“Hexa, what’s going on?”
“The attacking force appears to consist of beastfolk and enslaved monsters,” she said, her tone analytical. “Primary species include minotaurs, bird-like harpies, and goblins. Their movements suggest organized leadership, likely an ogre chieftain or similar figure.”
I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “And the guards?”
“Coordinated and holding their ground. However, they’ve sustained casualties—dozens, at least.”
The idea of losing dozens of soldiers in a single raid was staggering. In Valda-Ashdock, even one casualty would shake the village for weeks. Here, it seemed almost... routine.
----------------------------------------
The other students huddled together, their fear palpable. Some whispered prayers, others clung to each other for comfort. I sat apart, my mind racing with questions.
“How do they live like this?” I asked Hexa.
“They adapt,” she replied simply. “The mana density in the capital allows for greater defenses, but it also attracts stronger and more numerous attackers. This is a direct consequence of the Nexus’s interconnected nature.”
I leaned back against the cold stone wall, closing my eyes as I listened to the muffled chaos outside. This was a far cry from the simple life I’d known in Valda-Ashdock.
----------------------------------------
The raid lasted nearly an hour. When the sounds finally subsided, a tense silence settled over the shelter. Magister Althea waited a few moments before speaking.
“The threat has been neutralized,” she said, her voice steady. “Remain seated until we receive confirmation that it is safe to exit.”
As we waited, Hexa filled the silence in my mind with observations.
“The capital guard’s response was impressive. Their coordination and use of mana-based weaponry far surpass anything you’ve seen before.”
“I noticed,” I thought back. “It’s like watching an MMO raid in real life, but on a scale I couldn’t have imagined.”
Hexa didn’t respond, but I could sense her agreement.
----------------------------------------
When we were finally allowed to leave the shelter, the courtyard we’d been in earlier was unrecognizable. Scorch marks marred the cobblestones, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke. A team of mages worked to repair the damage, their spells weaving through the air like threads of light.
The other students hurried back to their dormitories, eager to put the experience behind them. I lingered, my eyes drawn to the distant walls of the city where the battle had taken place.
“Hexa, can you show me what you scanned?”
She projected a rough outline of the battlefield into my vision, highlighting key areas of activity. The scale of the conflict was staggering—hundreds of soldiers, dozens of beasts, and a sprawling, chaotic battlefield that stretched across the capital’s outskirts.
“This is their reality,” Hexa said quietly. “Weekly raids of this magnitude are the cost of living in a mana-rich environment.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in.