The academy grounds were crowded with students gathered around the large bulletin boards, talking over one another in a mix of excitement and nervousness.A few were even arguing about placements. The air felt heavy with anticipation, the kind that comes with the first day of school.Names were posted neatly under four categories:Class S. Class A. Class B. Class C.I slipped my hands into my coat pockets and stared at the lists, deciding to get this over with, I wasn't here for prestige or ranks, and if anything the lower the class the better, but after scanning for "Remington" and finding nothing, a faint crease formed between my brows as I wondered if Father had forgotten, which would be inconvenient… or maybe even better."Oh… I should check on my customized staff," I muttered under my breath, glancing ahead with narrowed eyes, knowing it was already arranged and would arrive in time for the first practical exam, so there was no rush.Then, someone was watching me, and without tur

A week had passed since Emil Remington first approached Elira Frostborne. Life at the academy continued as if nothing had changed: classes resumed, magic training continued, and rumors spread.The world here moved fast, but never truly forward. It was easy to lose track of what actually mattered. But far away from the academy's noise, something was happening.Remington ResidenceInside the estate, a man stood at the center of a wide chamber.At first glance, he looked more like a warrior than a mage.With long black hair tied loosely back, a rough beard framing his face, red eyes, and a body built like iron forged through years of battle, no one would mistake him for a scholar, and yet he was a 7th-class Wind magician, one of the highest ranks known, where only eight classes of magic power existed and even reaching the seventh in one's forties was considered monstrous.This man was Nile Remington.Head of the Remington family, and more importantly, the current head of the Black Sovere

The crowd had gathered when we went to the dungeon trial exam, and they never really left, they just moved with us. It felt more like a parade heading toward the training grounds, especially with the smell of fried snacks drifting through the air from vendors who had appeared out of nowhere.I noticed Elira staring at one of the food stalls with a weird, intense look on her face, making me wonder if she was actually thinking about selling food, too.But the fun vibe vanished the moment we hit the grounds. The air got quiet and heavy. Suddenly, our faces were everywhere, blaring from the giant crystal screens all over campus.Even the older year students stopped what they were doing to watch. They weren't just curious anymore, they were serious. Everyone knew that the S-class freshmen were the ones who would eventually run this place, and they wanted to see if we'd actually make it or just go down in flames.The dungeon entrance gate stood tall in front of us, carved into the stone lik

A girl who had once dreamed of the day she would be admitted to the Academy listened as her sister, Catherine DeRose, said gently, "What a cute and diligent girl you are, Shayna. Congratulations on becoming an S-Class first-year. It means the Academy has recognized your talent."Shayna looked shy, fidgeting slightly but always feeling at ease when she was with her sister, a third-year S-Class student who had been the person she trusted most, especially since the DeRose family had been proud the moment Shayna was accepted as an S-Class freshman.For a brief moment, the chaos and life-and-death pressure of the dungeon faded as Shayna's thoughts drifted to a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of a home that now felt like a dream she could barely hold onto, prompting her to murmur in a trembling voice, "I-I should've thanked my sister more…"And then her body gave out, collapsing into silence.I looked at Shayna and then shifted my gaze to Seiren, who still seemed normal for now thoug

When I was a child, I stood barefoot in a stone courtyard. The ground was rough and cold beneath my feet, stained with dark spots that no one ever bothered to clean, while my father stood in front of me.He was the kind of man who never needed to raise his voice to be obeyed. He ruled the underworld, and from the very beginning, he had been shaping me to become the same.I sparred with the instructor my father had chosen for me, and I barely managed to win. Even then, my father looked unimpressed."Again," he said. Just one word, yet I never questioned it. I simply got back up and stepped forward once more.For the first time, I found myself wondering why I trained so hard. As the days passed, I realized I didn't actually hate it. If anything, the thought of fighting to the death made my blood boil. Even as a child, I found it exhilarating.Even back then, I couldn't understand why Father pushed me so hard. While other children spent their days playing, I trained without end to become