The air was crisp with morning chill, the sky above Arcadia Academy tinged a pale gold as dawn began its climb. The sprawling training grounds, normally a flurry of activity during scheduled classes, were near empty at this hour — save for one lone figure.
Luca Von Valentine stood at the edge of the practice field, a wooden sword resting against his shoulder, breath forming light mist in the cool air.
It had been a few days since he made his decision.
No more waiting. No more sitting idle.
He wasn't strong. Not yet. But that could change.
I can't reach the hidden pieces with this pathetic stamina. I'd collapse before even making it halfway to the Old Clocktower, let alone the northern crypts or beastwood ridge.
And that was unacceptable.
Hidden weapons. Sealed relics. Ancient mana nodes.
The game was full of "optional" content — but for those who knew where to look, it was the difference between mediocrity and greatness.
Luca remembered it all.
Problem was, none of that mattered if his body gave out the moment he tried to sprint up a flight of stairs.
He let out a breath and stretched his arms wide.
"Alright... basic strength first."
Despite his noble appearance and slim build, the past Luca seemed to have kept up with some level of physical training. His body moved with surprising familiarity as he started his warm-ups — stretches, squats, lunges. Then came the running.
Luca paced himself around the perimeter of the training field. Once. Twice. Five times.
By the seventh, his chest burned and his legs ached — but he didn't stop.
Sweat dripped down his brow. His breath came in shallow bursts.
But for the first time since coming to this world, he felt alive.
This pain… it's mine. These steps, this weight, this breath — it's mine. I can shape this.
After a short break, he stood again, wiping his face with a towel.
Then he reached for the training sword.
It was heavier than he expected.
Rough grip. Worn from hundreds of hands before his. But oddly comforting.
"I mean... I am in the Knight class now," he muttered, giving the blade a light swing. "Better start acting like one."
He took a stance.
Left foot forward. Core tight. Blade up, angled across his body.
And then — he moved.
Slash. Reset. Slash. Step back. Slash. Parry. Thrust. Slash.
The movements were far from perfect — awkward, uneven, sloppy even — but there was something in them. Memory. Muscle. Echoes of someone who had done this before.
The old Luca. You may not have been strong. But you didn't give up, huh?
He focused. Let the rhythm build.
Each swing sharper than the last. Feet finding footing. Arms finding balance.
One, two—step, pivot—three—
He froze mid-swing.
Standing just a few paces away was Lilianne Fairmoore, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Her emerald green eyes were fixed on him — unblinking, focused, as if trying to read the intentions behind each swing of his sword.
Her soft pink hair, tied into a high ponytail, danced slightly with the morning breeze. Her uniform coat hung lazily off her shoulders like it didn't dare wrinkle her elegance.
She didn't say a word.
Just… stared.
Luca stiffened. The wooden blade in his hand suddenly felt twice as heavy.
Why is she here? Why now?
A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.
What do I even do? Bow? Greet her? Freeze like an NPC until she walks away?
Seconds passed like hours under her gaze.
Is she judging my form? My grip? My soul?
Then, without a word, she turned — ponytail flicking — and walked away with the grace of someone born to make others feel inferior without trying.
Luca stood frozen.
Then finally relaxed, his knees nearly giving out.
He exhaled a long, defeated breath.
"Okay, that was terrifying," he muttered, clutching his sword like a lifeline. "Let's not meet Pink Menace again anytime soon."
He dropped to a crouch.
"I don't have the stamina for magical yanderes before breakfast."
A Few Hours Later – Class A
Back in the classroom, Luca settled into his usual seat — back corner, second row from the windows. The perfect place to observe without being seen.
A new voice cut through his thoughts.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Luca looked up.
A boy stood there — lean, dark-haired, with a relaxed expression and sharp gray eyes.
"Sure," Luca nodded.
The boy sat beside him.
"Eric," he said, extending a hand.
"Luca."
Eric grinned. "Yeah, I know."
Luca blinked. "You do?"
"Hard not to. You're the guy who answered Professor Seraphina's crazy third-year question like it was common sense. People talk."
"Oh."
Luca stared at him for a beat longer.
Wait... Eric? I don't remember anyone named Eric in the game. Is he an extra? A filler name? Background mob?
Eric leaned back in his chair. "You look like you're thinking too hard."
"Just… trying to remember where I've heard your name."
"You haven't," Eric said with a laugh. "I'm no one. Just another extra, like you."
Luca stared.
Was that a dig or honesty?
Eric smirked. "Relax. I'm kidding. But seriously — you're kind of interesting."
They chatted a bit — light conversation, mostly small observations.
"Selene Weiss?" Eric tilted his head, keeping his voice low. "She's been drilling her spellbook like it's some ancient treasure. Didn't even blink during lunch. Just kept chanting under her breath."
Luca raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Like she was trying to fuse with the damn thing," Eric said, smirking. "Ice and lightning spells flying left and right during practice. She's a machine."
"Makes sense," Luca murmured. "She's always been intense."
"And Kyle? Guy transformed the dueling ground into a military camp. Drew formation grids in the dirt and ordered his sparring partner to act like a rebel cell."
"He's… committed."
"Obsessed," Eric corrected. "He even tried to give me a role in his 'recon squad.' I was just passing by."
"Sounds about right."
Eric grinned. "And Lilianne? Yeah… she turned a wind elemental into glitter during magic control class. Blew it up with a snap and said she needed to 'warm up.' The professor just stood there blinking."
Luca shook his head lightly. "That's overkill."
"Hey, can't argue with results."
Luca narrowed his eyes, feigning suspicion. "Are you a stalker bastard or what?"
Eric laughed. "I get that a lot. I prefer 'informed bystander.'"
Luca sighed. "Sure. Fine."
"Friends?"
Luca blinked at him, then glanced toward the window.
He's probably just another extra like me. Weird, sure, but not dangerous. He talks too much and knows too many things, but honestly... that's kind of useful. I could use someone like that. Someone normal.
Besides… if he turns out to be a serial killer, at least he asked nicely.
He looked back at Eric and gave a small nod. "Yeah, why not."
Several days passed like this
Morning after morning, Luca trained at the same spot.
And like clockwork, Lilianne would appear.
She never spoke. Never commented. Just watched.
Then left.
Every single day.
Luca had stopped reacting after the third time.
Would it kill her to at least say something? A comment? A nod?
…Nope. Keep walking, your highness. No complaints here.
"Good morning, Pink Menace," he muttered once under his breath as she passed. "Hope you enjoy the sword dance."
She didn't even glance his way.
Still terrifying.
Still weirdly motivating.
Between training, lectures, and occasional lunches with Eric — who had far too much gossip for a normal person — time passed quickly.
And finally…
It took nearly a week to get here — not just physically, but mentally. The Old Clocktower wasn't dangerous… but it wasn't forgiving either.
Luca stood in front of a crooked, ivy-clad tower on the far edge of the Academy grounds.
The Old Clocktower.
One of the earliest hidden pieces.
Inside it… was a relic that could give him the base foundation he desperately needed.
"It's not just about getting stronger anymore. It's about proving I belong in this world — that I can take my fate into my own hands."
He took a deep breath.
"No turning back now."
Let's get strong.
[End of Chapter 6]