Chapter 287 (Patreon)

“This is boring. It’s Professor Wor-en again,” Suri muttered under her breath, her voice low but laced with a familiar kind of dissatisfaction, as if she had hoped—perhaps unrealistically—for something new, something unpredictable, only to be met instead with someone she already understood all too well.

“I think it’s better,” Rin replied, her tone thoughtful rather than dismissive, as she leaned slightly forward in her seat, her gaze fixed on the front where Wor-en stood, her expression carrying a quiet confidence that came from familiarity rather than boredom.

“I think so too,” Yuri added, nodding once in agreement, her voice calm, measured, as if she valued consistency more than surprise, especially in a place where expectations were only growing heavier.

Then, almost in unison, the three of them turned toward Kana.

Waiting for her opinion.

Kana blinked, her thoughts still far from the classroom, drifting instead along distant shores and uncertain routes, her mind tracing possibilities of reaching Besed Island—a plan that refused to settle into something concrete, stretching too far into the future, demanding too much time, too many resources, too many unknowns.

Years.

It would take years.

The realization sat heavily in her chest, dulling the excitement that had sparked the night before, until she finally exhaled softly, her focus dragging itself back to the present.

“It’s a draw this time,” Rin said lightly, breaking the silence.

Kana hesitated, her brows pulling together slightly as she looked between them.

“What?” she asked, genuinely confused, unaware that she had just been part of a silent vote she hadn’t even noticed.

At the front of the room, Wor-en stood with his usual composed posture, though notably absent was the formal attire he wore during lectures, his current appearance more relaxed, more fitting for an orientation rather than a class, yet his presence alone was enough to quiet the room.

He nodded once.

Then again.

Acknowledging the mixed reactions without surprise, as if he had anticipated every clap, every groan, every uncertain glance.

“That’s the reaction I expected,” he said, his voice steady, carrying easily across the room without effort. “I know you’re all happy that I’m the advisor of the second Mythril class—especially the former copper class.”

There was a pause.

“I’m Professor Wor-en,” he continued, “your advisor this year.”

From the back, a few of the boys from the former copper class let out low grunts—responses that hovered somewhere between acknowledgment and mild protest, enough to draw a faint shift in the atmosphere without disrupting it entirely.

Wor-en cleared his throat, unfazed.

“There are a few changes for the Mythril classes,” he said, his tone shifting slightly, becoming more structured, as he moved into the substance of his announcement. “Since we have high expectations of you—and we don’t intend for you to become too relaxed—you will now be required to take and pass one advanced class and one regular class.”

The words settled over the room, drawing attention, sharpening focus.

“If you fail either one,” he added without pause, “you will not be eligible to get into the Mythril class next year.”

He reached down, lifting a stack of parchment from his desk, the soft rustle of paper filling the brief silence that followed.

“These,” he said, holding them up slightly, “are the lists of available classes. You are to choose—and I will have your decisions today.”

Before he could continue, Yuri had already stood, moving without hesitation as she stepped forward to assist, her actions smooth and efficient as she began distributing the papers across the room.

Wor-en glanced at her briefly and nodded. “Thank you, Yuri.”

She returned the nod with a small smile before continuing, the simple exchange passing quickly yet naturally, as if such moments were already expected of her.

“Now,” Wor-en continued once the papers began to circulate, “while you consider your choices, I want each of you to introduce yourselves.”

The atmosphere shifted again, becoming lighter, more familiar, as students began speaking one by one, starting with those from the former copper class, their introductions casual, almost comfortable, shaped by the familiarity they had built over time.

Then came the newer students.

More formal.

Each name placed carefully, each word chosen with intention, as they stepped into a space that was still unfamiliar to them.

Until—

It slowed.

Not completely.

But noticeably.

Because two students remained seated.

Wor-en’s gaze flicked toward them, and for a brief moment, something like quiet acknowledgment passed through his expression.

“We have two special students who are older than you,” he said, his tone carrying just enough weight to draw the room’s full attention, “both exceptional in their own right, who chose to join this year…”

A slight pause.

“…because of Kana.”

Eyes turned and curiosity sparked.

“They wanted to learn more about her,” Wor-en finished.

Kana blinked.

Before she could fully process that, one of the two stood.

Hen.

The movement alone seemed to ripple through the room, drawing attention effortlessly, and as he straightened, a quiet wave of reaction followed—particularly from the girls, several of whom flushed slightly, their composure slipping just enough to be noticed.

“I’m Hen de Grey,” he said, his voice smooth, confident without being forceful, carrying the kind of ease that made people listen without realizing it. “Class [Templar], from the Western Kingdom.”

He paused briefly, letting the words settle.

“I may be older than most of you,” he continued, his lips curving into a faint, reassuring smile, “but don’t hesitate to approach me if you need help.”

Another pause.

“I’m quite reliable.”

Somewhere nearby—

“For some reason, I hate him,” Toby muttered under his breath, his voice low enough that most would miss it.

Kana’s  [High Awareness] caught it instantly.

“I somehow agree,” Leo added quietly.

Kana blinked, glancing at Leo with a hint of surprise, clearly not expecting that response from him of all people. She shook her head slightly, choosing not to comment, though the reaction lingered in her thoughts.

Then—

The second student stood.

Joan.

Her movement lacked the quiet flourish Hen carried, her presence more grounded, more restrained, as if she had no intention of drawing attention—yet still commanded it simply by standing.

“I’m Joan Clarke,” she said, her voice calm, direct, without embellishment. “Class [SacredKnight].”

And that was all. No smile.

And somehow, that simplicity carried its own attention.

…..

The orientation ended not with a grand conclusion, but with a quiet unraveling, as if the tension that had gathered in the room simply loosened its grip all at once, students rising from their seats in clusters, conversations blooming instantly as the weight of expectations gave way to the familiar comfort of routine.

For the existing students, it had taken only an hour.

Almost too quick for something that would shape the rest of their year.

But not for the first years.

Kana could hear it clearly even as they stepped into the corridor—the amplified voice of the principal rolling through the halls like distant thunder, steady and commanding, filling every corner of the academy with reminders, rules, and carefully chosen words meant to guide those just stepping into this world.

“How about going to my father’s place?” Rin suggested, her tone brightening as if she were deliberately pulling them away from the weight of the academy, offering something lighter, something familiar. “They’ve got new juice recipes.”

Suri perked up almost instantly, her earlier boredom dissolving into interest.

“Yes,” she said, nodding with surprising enthusiasm. “It’s good to hang out there—”

She didn’t finish.

Because the rhythm of their walk broke.

Three figures stepped into their path, their presence cutting cleanly through the casual flow of students moving along the corridor, and for a moment, it felt as though the space itself adjusted around them.

Full plated armor.

Polished to a dull, disciplined sheen.

Red capes draped behind them, unmoving despite the subtle currents of air in the hallway, as if even the wind knew better than to interfere.

They weren’t just passing by. They were approaching Kana

A faint crease formed between her brows, recognition settling in before the moment fully unfolded, because this—

This wasn’t new.

It had happened before.

The same armor. The same presence. Probably the same men. The same quiet authority that didn’t need to raise its voice to be felt.

One of the men stepped forward slightly, as if even the smallest gesture had been rehearsed countless times.

“Kana of the Saltrain Village,” he said, his voice firm but controlled, carrying the weight of something official, something that left little room for refusal. “His Majesty invites you to discuss matters regarding the western students.”

There was no mistaking what it meant.

Kana exhaled softly, the sound barely audible, her shoulders easing just slightly as understanding settled into place, her thoughts already moving ahead, connecting threads that had been laid out long before this moment.

Fameless. Another quest.

She dipped her head in a small, respectful bow, her voice calm, steady, already resigned to the path set before her.

“I will comply.”

Beside her, Yuri watched the exchange with an ease that suggested this, too, had become familiar, her reaction far less surprised than it might have been the first time.

“Well,” Yuri said lightly once the weight of the moment began to settle, her tone shifting back toward something more casual, more grounded, “I guess it’ll just be the three of us.”

She glanced toward Rin and Suri, a small smile forming as she adjusted her plans without difficulty.

“How about we invite the new girls from our Mythril class?”

The suggestion lingered in the air, simple and warm, a quiet counterbalance to the heavier turn the moment had taken, as if to remind them that while Kana might be pulled into something larger—

“I don’t think we can invite Joan. She’s a bit too stiff.” Rin said.

The three of them chatted while Kana was being dragged—walked beside the three full armored knights as if it was a natural thing. She was actually curious. The new students passed and joined as a Mythril class must be exceptional and unique.

She was simply hoping the quest this time wouldn’t be too difficult or take too much time. Why not ask her before the class started? Now she wouldn’t have time to visit the orphanage over the weekend.

“I should have added more conditions.” Kana murmured.

Post note:

Not the official class yet-no joan duel yet.1st chap of the week.Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂

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