"NOW, YOU WILL ALL CHOOSE A WEAPON!"
The instructor's voice boomed across the stadium like he was announcing the apocalypse. I winced. Did they not teach indoor voices at instructor school?
"LET ME MAKE THIS CLEAR: THE ACADEMY PROVIDES ONE WEAPON PER YEAR! NO EXCHANGES, NO RETURNS, NO CRYING TO MOMMY WHEN YOU REALIZE YOU PICKED WRONG! THESE AREN't YOUR DADDY'S PRACTICE SWORDS—THEY'RE RELICS WITH ABILITIES THAT'LL ONLY WAKE UP IF YOU'RE WORTHY!"
He tapped his watch, and suddenly the stadium floor lit up with glowing magic circles. Great. Mass teleportation. Because apparently walking was too pedestrian for this place.
The world dissolved into white light, and when my vision cleared, I found myself standing in what could only be described as a weapon collector's wet dream. The armory stretched impossibly high, walls lined with every instrument of violence known to man—and probably a few that weren't. Floating mana orbs cast everything in an ethereal glow that would've been beautiful if I wasn't surrounded by a few hundred ways to die.
I caught Selena glancing my way from across the room. For a second, I thought she might actually talk to me, but she turned away faster than someone avoiding eye contact with a street preacher. Still mad, apparently. Women and their mysterious grudges—I'd have better luck decoding ancient hieroglyphs.
Whatever. I had bigger concerns.
I already knew what I wanted. Thanks to the novel's plot, I had insider information on a particular weapon that would serve my temporary needs perfectly. Some ally character had switched to it after a traumatic event in the sixth arc, right after failing to protect his love interest. The protagonist had swooped in to save the day, and naturally, the girl's affections shifted accordingly.
Classic NTR subplot. Not that I cared—I wouldn't need this weapon past the grading exams anyway. My future lay in alchemy, not swinging sharp objects around like some medieval reject.
'You've been obsessing over that novel all morning. What's so special about it?'
I nearly jumped out of my skin. The voice in my head—Nelia—sounded amused.
'Wait... you can read my thoughts?'
'What did you think was happening? You're literally talking to me through your mind, genius.'
Fair point. I felt like an idiot for not realizing sooner.
I ignored her snark and headed for the stairs. While other students scattered across the lower floors like kids in a candy store, I had a destination in mind. The weapon I wanted was on the highest floor accessible to first-years.
The climb gave me time to think. This whole academy experience was temporary—a means to an end. I just needed to survive the semester, pass the exams, and get out. Simple plan. What could go wrong?
When I reached the top floor, the same ethereal lighting greeted me, casting long shadows between the weapon displays. I started scanning the room methodically.
"All right... where's that sword?"
A prickle at the back of my neck made me turn. Someone was watching me from the doorway—a girl trying very hard to look casual while obviously spying. When our eyes met, she had the audacity to wave like we were old friends.
"Rizel," I muttered as she strolled into the room with all the subtlety of a neon sign.
Great. Just what I needed.
"Oh, I didn't see you there," she said, walking toward me with a smile that screamed trouble.
"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't." I turned back to searching, hoping she'd take the hint and leave.
She didn't.
I found the weapon faster than expected—a sleek blade that looked unremarkable but carried potential I knew others couldn't see. I reached for it, only to feel another hand grab the same hilt.
"What are you doing?" I asked, turning to glare at her.
"Considering this weapon too," she replied with the kind of innocent smile that probably fooled exactly no one.
For a brief moment, I considered violence. The room was empty, after all. Who would know?
'She's stronger than you, idiot. Don't even think about it.'
I glanced at her watch display. Level 6.8. Damn. I forced my homicidal impulses down.
"So?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"Let's share it," she said, completely serious.
I stared at her. Was this girl genuinely stupid, or was she trying to drive me insane? Either way, she was succeeding.