A group of students stood shoulder to shoulder, their formation surprisingly disciplined as they brought down a lunging monster with practiced efficiency. On their uniforms shimmered a distinct diamond-shaped insignia—the mark of the Diamond Class.
Their current formation, however, was a sight few expected. The strongest stood at the frontlines, shielding the weaker students nestled in the middle. Traditionally, the Diamond Class never bothered with such balance. The weaker members were usually ignored—or worse, used as expendable tools to enhance the strength of the elite. But now, things had changed.
And not everyone was happy about it.
A flicker of dissatisfaction passed through the eyes of several students in the vanguard. This new arrangement had been suggested—no, ordered—by the Crown Prince. Refusal was not an option. Gritting their teeth, they followed through, each step a bid for favor with the empire's future ruler. A closer connection to the Crown Prince meant political security. Influence. Status. A future.
Still, it grated on them.
The ideology they'd been raised on was clear: the strong rise, the weak serve. When had they ever gone out of their way for the lesser-ranked?
A soft scoff escaped a few lips—quiet, but bitter.
And yet, in the back of their minds, the image of a pale-faced girl surfaced. Black hair like shadows and eyes that had once stared directly at the Crown Prince without flinching.
Yuna.
A girl who shouldn't have mattered—just another nobody—but somehow, she had said things to the Crown Prince and lived. Worse, he had listened. What kind of person could sway the Crown Prince of the Empire who has always been ever arrogant?
At that moment, Alaric cleaved through a beast with effortless grace, his mana flickering like lightning along his blade. While issuing commands, his eyes didn't miss the undercurrent of unrest in his team.
He knew they were annoyed. He didn't blame them. Because truthfully, he didn't care much for the weak either.
The world was cruel. The strong thrived. The weak were devoured.
Simple.
But Yuna's words lingered like a thorn.
'Tyrant.'
'Youenjoy privilege but give nothing back.'
He had dismissed her. Mocked her, even. Yet somehow, her voice followed him still.
His brother's words returned, uninvited.
'With that mindset, you're not fit to be emperor. A general, yes. But not a ruler.'
'Your Empire would be a cage of strength and silence, little brother.'
If his brother weren't so frail, Alaric was certain the imperial title would've fallen to him instead. Their father favored him. As for Alaric, he was merely the necessary alternative.
And their mother… she had fallen into a coma when he was five. His last memory of her was her smile. Since then, their father had slowly withdrawn from governance. Now, his brother stood in as acting emperor, making decisions behind closed doors while the Emperor himself appeared only for show, to keep the illusion of stability.
After all, the Empire couldn't afford to look weak. With smaller kingdoms watching for any sign of vulnerability, their strength was their shield.
So where was the fault in favoring strength?
The Empire couldn't afford weakness. And yet...
Why was he protecting the weak now?
A single word surfaced.
Responsibility.
Alaric frowned. Wasn't he already fulfilling that by nurturing the strong?
But as his gaze fell upon the students in the center of the formation—those they once ignored—he saw something unexpected.
Gratitude. Determination. A glimmer of loyalty.
Unlike before, when they were forced into roles they neither wanted nor valued, now they wanted to help. They supported from the backline with eager eyes and steady hands.
It wasn't just survival anymore. They were starting to grow.
Alaric turned away, the tension in his jaw betraying the quiet battle in his mind.
He wasn't wrong to prioritize strength….. he wasn't.
-----
In contrast, Club Class moved like a well-oiled machine.
Under Dane's direction, they didn't just fight—they flowed. His enhancement ability threaded through their limbs, boosting power, sharpening reflexes, guiding every step with calculated precision.
What his classmates didn't know, however, was that his power wasn't limited to buffing stats.
As his ability swept over them, Dane could see their profile—their strengths, their flaws, It was an additional ability he never spoke of.
People didn't like being dissected, even unintentionally.
So Dane played the role of the diligent strategist, always ready with the right support spell, always kind, always humble.
But he never let his guard down.
This hidden insight only worked on those weaker than or equal to him. If someone vastly outclassed him, his ability became almost useless.
That excluded only a few.
Alaster, for one. He was slightly stronger—maybe—but it was too close to call.
Then there were the Scilla siblings.
They were catching up. Fast.
Their improvement was unsettling. Sometimes, Dane almost couldn't read them anymore. It made him wonder—what kind of training was Austin putting them through?
But he had no room to fall behind. Not at Evigheden Academy, where monsters wore school uniforms and geniuses walked the halls like ghosts.
Realistically, these talents should've been at Oriel Academy, the favored ground of the God of Light. After all, majority are God of light believer.
But that wasn't an option for the Arryns. Their blood magic didn't sit well with the holy doctrine. And Asra Academy—aligned with the God of Eternal Night—wasn't much better.
Evigheden became the only choice.
Or rather, the right choice.
As for how most talents suddenly end up in Evigheden academy, everyone assumed it was Austin who pulled the strings. After all, the Crown Prince had taken interest in him, and nobles flocked to the school hoping to rub shoulders with future power.
But the truth was stranger.
Austin had been personally invited by Swordmaster Aldric to Oriel Academy—and declined.
Because of Yuna.
Dane's thoughts drifted to the girl.
Quiet. Unremarkable. Easily overlooked.
Yet she had brewed a potion with perfect purity—something even high-level alchemists couldn't.
Her classmates didn't even know. And despite that, she still held sway over them. Trusted. Liked. Protected.
How?
It was almost magical.
Dane prided himself on controlling perception, on manipulating information gaps to hold sway.
But Yuna? She didn't use information. She was the unknown.
That was more dangerous than anything else.
How does she do it? he wondered.
"Class rep! I found an Eusia Orb!"
Snapping from his thoughts, Dane turned to the flushed student.
"Excellent. Well done."
The student beamed. "It was all because of your guidance!"
Dane shook his head with a gentle smile. "No—it's because you all worked as a team."
The Club Class remained calm and harmonious.
He spared a glance toward Alaster—still crouched in a corner, fiddling with a vial of glowing red liquid, utterly uninterested in anything else.
What's in that vial…?
To say Dane wasn't curious would be a massive understatement—anything that held Alaster attention so completely was bound to stir deep intrigue.
And then Dane wondered—not without a flicker of amusement—
What is the Heart Class up to right now?
-----
As for Heart Class…
Well.
Let's just say they were experiencing a different kind of adventure.
"Wait—WAIT—how did we end up on the TOP FLOOR!?"
"Oh my stars, are we gonna fight the boss?! This is SO COOL!"
Excited chatter erupted from the group as they looked around the massive hall. Glowing glyphs danced along the marble pillars, and ominous magic pulsed from the cracked stone beneath their feet.
This was clearly the topmost floor—where the strongest monsters usually lurked.
And not a single student was alarmed.
Except Yuna.
Her face darkened with every second, like a storm cloud gathering force.
How did they end up here indeed.