Author notes:

  I made a small update in the end of the st chapter to correct the story flow. Nothing big or really important, just making it clearer that it ended at the end of the match, not after they disperse. Once again sorry for the changes. I will try my best to keep them to a minimum.“The matches are now over! Both teams, shake hands!” Professor Rhea’s voice rang loud and clear across the arena.

  The two teams gathered at the center, exchanging firm handshakes and brief nods. A mix of exhaustion and camaraderie hung in the air.

  “And with that,” Rhea decred, cpping her hands, “it’s all over! Now then—little bro, you’re coming with me.”

  “Eh!? No! I—” Stefan started to protest.

  “No excuses!” Rhea cut him off with a grin, already dragging him away by the colr to the ughter of both teams.

  Watching Stefan being dragged out like a misbehaving pet, Jared chuckled and turned to the group. “Well, those were some great matches. How about we hit a tavern and talk about what we learned?”

  Christopher nodded. “Sounds good.”

  One by one, the rest of both teams chimed in with agreement. Even the more hesitant ones were quickly convinced. Before they left, Christopher turned to the stands and called out to Ethan’s group. “You all coming?”

  Surprised but pleased, Ethan gave a nod. “Sure.”

  Jared echoed the invitation to the other third-years watching, and soon the group swelled even rger.

  Thirty minutes ter, a lively tavern near the Academy buzzed with the energy of a group far too big for the corner they had cimed. Ptes cttered, mugs foamed, and voices overpped in cheerful bursts.

  Once food and drinks were served, Jared stood up and cpped once to gather attention.

  “Alright! Seeing as we’ve got a lot of unfamiliar faces here, let’s go around with a quick intro. Just your name, css role, why you joined the Academy, and…” he waggled his eyebrows dramatically, “…whether you’re single. I’ll start, naturally.”

  He stood tall, one foot up on the bench like a hero about to unch into a saga. “Name’s Jared Vexwood. Warrior css, third year, and the top swordsman of my grade. Favorite weapon’s the longsword, but I’m pretty handy with anything that’s got an edge. Son of a knight—so technically not noble, but I’ve been raised around them all my life.”

  He paused for dramatic effect. “Why the Academy? Simple: I wanted to be stronger. Though… seems it didn’t work as well as I hoped. Some first years knocked me out cold during a spar in the forest not long ago, and I'm still searching for one of them.”

  Ethan, mid-sip, nearly choked on his drink. His face flushed as he realized who Jared was.

  “And yes,” Jared finished, fshing a grin, “I’m single. So dies, don’t be shy.”

  The group chuckled—some awkwardly, some genuinely—before the next in line stood up.

  It was a girl with short, dark cherry-colored hair cut in yers that framed her freckled face. She had sharp violet eyes and wore a tailored mage cloak embroidered with runes along the sleeves.

  “Name’s Mar Vex,” she said quickly. “No retion to Jared—just an unfortunate coincidence in surnames.”

  Jared raised a hand in mock protest. “Truly unfortunate.”

  Mar ignored him. “I’m a third-year mage. I specialize in mid-range fire spells and enchantment crafting. My hobbies are baking cookies and crafting enchanted clothes. And yes, I’m single—but I’m not looking. Don’t get any ideas.”

  There was a small ripple of ughter, and she added with a smirk, “I’m a commoner. My family owns a bakery. So if anyone wants fresh bread that doesn’t taste like it’s been through the dungeon first, swing by.”

  She sat back down and gave a thumbs-up to Orrin, who was seated next to her.

  The boy stood, ruffling his short ash-brown hair with a grin. “Orrin Graycliff,” he said casually. “Scout, as most of you probably guessed already. I’m fast on my feet, sharp with daggers, and decent with a bow—though bdes are more my thing.”

  He leaned against the table, his tone growing more casual but steady. “I come from a small vilge called Thaler’s Ridge—used to, I guess. We had this tradition: if you wanted to be considered for the next vilge chief, you had to graduate from the Adventurer Academy. That’s what brought me here.”

  A moment of silence hung in the air as his smile faltered.

  “But… that dream’s kind of gone now. My vilge was wiped out by a dragon. Burned it to ash. My brother and cousin made it out alive, thank the gods, but the rest...” He trailed off, shaking his head.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to dump that on everyone. It’s just been eating at me, and I figured now was the best time to let it out as it will soon be forgotten over a few drinks. I’m… not okay. Not yet. But I’m still here. Still moving.”

  He forced a smile and straightened up. “So! Let’s shift the mood, yeah? I’ve got something better to end on.”

  He turned dramatically toward Mar and grinned. “I’m currently courting the lovely Miss Vex here—though she’s been making me work for it.”

  “SHUT UP, YOU IDIOT!” Mar exploded, her face turning crimson as she smacked his arm hard enough to make a few nearby drinks wobble.

  Unfazed, Orrin winked and gave a satisfied nod. “See? That’s what I love about her.”

  Laughter rippled through the group as Orrin sat down and gestured to the person beside him.

  Next in line was a tall, broad-shouldered boy with short blond hair and a confident smirk. He stood up and gave a zy salute to the group.

  “Name’s Darius Flint. Warrior, third year. I’m a spear specialist, though I dabble in polearms of all kinds. My old man’s a retired adventurer, so I grew up hearing battle stories instead of bedtime tales—guess that stuck.”

  He cracked his neck before continuing. “I joined the Academy to see how far I could go with my own strength, and so far, I haven’t been disappointed. There’s always someone stronger, which is what makes this pce fun.”

  Jared leaned forward with a smirk. “You’re forgetting one important detail, Darius.”

  Darius groaned and rolled his eyes. “Seriously?” He slouched a little in his chair before muttering in a half-fed-up, half-resigned tone, “Fine. I’m single. Happy now?”

  A few chuckles echoed around the table, especially from the third-years who seemed used to Darius’s no-nonsense attitude.

  The next to stand was a girl with shoulder-length silver hair and icy blue eyes. She had an aloof, elegant air, and her robe was marked with faint shimmering enchantments.

  “I’m Seris Ny,” she said softly, her voice cool and deliberate. “Third-year mage, focused on offensive magic—especially Ice and Lightning.”

  There was a calm intensity to her words, like someone who didn’t speak often but meant every sylble when she did. Her silver hair was tied in a loose braid over one shoulder, and her pale blue eyes didn’t waver as she continued.

  “My goal is simple: mastery. I’m not interested in titles, ranks, or reputation. I want to push my magic to its absolute limits. I’m not a noble, so Royal Academy was out of the question. That’s why I came here—second-best is still better than nowhere.”

  She paused for a second, gncing at Jared, who was staring with his usual wolfish grin.

  A faint blush crept up her cheeks, and she finished in a single word.

  “…Single.”

  Last came a nky boy with sun-tanned skin, messy dark hair, and the zy swagger of someone who seemed like he had never taken a single thing in life too seriously. He didn’t bother standing—just raised a hand and spoke from his seat, lounging with one leg crossed over the other.

  “Name’s Rell Fenwick. Third-year scout. I’m the guy you call when you want something tracked, lifted, or... quietly handled.” He fshed a crooked grin. “Fast feet, quiet steps, and a knack for disappearing the second things get messy.”

  A murmur passed through the group.

  “Is it really okay to say that?” someone asked with a bit of unease.

  “Oh? I thought we were all among friends here!” Rell replied innocently. Then he leaned forward just slightly, resting his elbow on the table. “But if that’s too shady for you, I’m also pretty handy when it comes to interrogating traitors.”

  “Gulp.”

  “Rell, stop scaring the first-years,” Orrin called out with a grin, giving the scout a light jab in the ribs.

  “Fine, fine!” Rell chuckled, raising both hands in mock surrender. “Forget I said anything.”

  The tension dissolved with scattered ughter.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “came here for the same reason most of us did—wanted out of the life I was born into. Grew up in the southern slums. Real warm, real welcoming. I figured fighting monsters in the wild would be less dangerous.”

  Then, with a zy half-wave, he finished, “I’m single. Not into guys, though, so sorry Jared—it’s not you, it’s me.”

  “Fuck off,” Jared groaned, rolling his eyes as the others ughed again.

  With the third-years finished, it was now the first-years’ turn. Naturally, Christopher stood up first, assuming his role as the group’s de facto leader.

  “Christopher Lightwatch,” he said with calm confidence. “Second son of Baron Lightwatch. I’m a warrior—sword and shield are my specialties, though I’ve trained in a few other weapons too. My hobbies include training, sparring, and duels.”

  “That’s all the same thing,” someone—probably Rell—muttered with a smirk.

  Christopher didn’t so much as blink. “I entered the Adventurer Academy to gain independence from my family. I refuse to compete with my older brother for the heir position.”

  He scanned the room, his tone growing more serious. “Unfortunately, he refuses to believe me. So, a word of caution: if you spend too much time around me, expect him to cause problems from the shadows.”

  A few murmurs passed through the group, but no one interrupted.

  “My goal is to become a high-ranking adventurer, earn a noble title, and one day establish a new vilge. When that time comes…”—he offered a rare, sincere smile—“I hope I can count on your help.”

  “Wow, you dream big,” Ethan said, visibly impressed.

  Christopher nodded. “Isn’t that what it means to be an adventurer?”

  He took his seat again and added casually, “I’m single, by the way—”

  Across the room, Celica's eyes lit up.

  “—but I’ve got no time for romance right now.”

  Her hopeful spark dimmed slightly, but didn’t vanish entirely. She folded her hands in her p, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Not now, maybe... but someday...

  Ravyn Albright stood next, her posture straight and composed as always. She didn’t raise her voice—yet the room naturally fell quiet.

  “Ravyn Albright,” she began. “Mage. I haven’t chosen a specialization yet, but I’ve taken a particur interest in counter-spells—magic used to counter or unravel other spells mid-cast.”

  Her violet eyes flicked toward the third-years, gauging their attention before continuing. “I’m the third daughter of Count Albright. My family belongs to one of the so-called prestigious magical bloodlines, but don’t let that fool you into thinking we’re wealthy or particurly influential. Not all branches bloom equally.”

  There was a faint bitterness in her words, but she pushed forward with elegant control.

  “My mother isn’t favored in the household, and as I’m not the heir, I wasn’t given many choices. The Adventurer Academy became the only real path avaible to me—courtesy of politics, mostly. If my standing had been different, I’d probably be in the Royal Academy instead.”

  She paused, arms crossed lightly.

  “My goal? To grow powerful enough to sp my sisters’ faces without fear of repercussion.”

  A few ughs broke out around the room.

  “As for becoming heir to the Albright name…” She gave a dismissive shrug. “They can keep it. I have no interest in dragging that name around like a chain. I just want what’s mine—and what they owe me.”

  Finally, as if ticking off a final box, she added, “I’m single. And before anyone asks—yes, Kael is my childhood friend, but no, we’re not romantically involved.”

  “Tragically,” Kael muttered under his breath.

  Ravyn didn’t so much as flinch.

  “What the heck are you saying, Kael?” Ethan cut in, wide-eyed. “You’ve got a fiancée! Shouldn’t you be treating her with the respect she deserves?”

  Kael threw his hands up. “It was never my choice, alright? You all know that! A man’s gotta dream big! I’m too much man to be tied down by just one woman!”

  “Pffft. As if,” Ravyn scoffed, arms crossed. “As far as I remember, yours is quite small.”

  “That’s a low blow, Rav!”

  “But it’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  “Guh—!”

  “Anyway, stop wasting everyone’s time and get on with your introduction—or at least what’s left of it.”

  Kael sighed dramatically and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine.”

  He stood up and pced one hand on his hip.

  “I’m Kael Varn. Scout. Agile, fast, and good with a bow—though I prefer close-quarters with my daggers. My family’s been in service to the Albright house for generations, which is how I ended up stuck with midy here ever since we were kids.”

  “Oh please,” Ravyn muttered, feigning offense. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “I have to disagree,” Kael said ftly. “You were a little tyrant. Remember when you pushed me into a frozen river mid-winter? Or when you woke me up in the middle of the night just for chocote milk and biscuits? Or what about the time you—”

  “I get it, I get it!” Ravyn interrupted. “No need to dwell on the past!”

  Kael shrugged with a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, the official reason I’m at the Adventurer Academy is to continue protecting Lady Ravyn. The unofficial reason? I’m running as far away from my old job as humanly possible. Once we graduate, I’m never going back to that house. Never again.”

  “But your fiancée is waiting for you,” Ravyn teased, resting her chin on her hand.

  Kael groaned. “Tell her to move on already! Seriously! Someone tell her to let me go!”

  Anyone watching could tell their retionship was anything but simple—but now wasn’t the time to unpack that chaotic duo. Sensing the need to move things along, Daniel rose from his seat with an easy grin.

  “My name’s Daniel Rooks. I'm... you can consider me a commoner. My family situation is a pain in the ass and I prefer to keep quiet about it.”

  A few curious gnces were exchanged, but no one pressed him.

  “Family drama aside, I’m a Healer—”

  “Wait, Healer?” Jared interrupted, eyes wide. “But you used warrior skills!”

  Daniel let out a sigh, clearly used to expining this. “Bme Christopher for that. He figured I wouldn’t be much useful as a Healer for a while as even the least decent buff spells are grade two or higher, so he had me focus on sword training instead. Taught me Accelerate and Power Strike himself.”

  Jared scratched his head. “I see... Still, you should consider switching csses. I don’t know how good you are at casting spells, but as a warrior? You’ve definitely got potential.”

  Daniel gave a cheeky grin and shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m perfectly happy where I am. I mean, come on—a css full of cute girls? Versus a bunch of sweaty dudes? Easy choice.”

  Ethan burst out ughing. “That’s the Daniel I know!”

  Daniel kept the momentum going, fshing a mock-dazzling smile at the group. “Anyway, hobbies include dating, romance, and beautiful women. I’m still single—but not for long! So if you’ve got your eye on me, better move quick. I’m a limited-time offer!”

  The group ughed, some shaking their heads at his shameless self-promotion.

  “Alright, alright, enough of the sales pitch,” Ethan said as he stood up. “Guess it’s my turn now.”

  Ethan stood up, brushing off his pants like he was preparing for something grand.

  “My name’s Ethan. I’m also a Healer.”

  He paused. For a second, he looked like he was about to say something more dramatic… then visibly reconsidered.

  I’m your typical Isekai protagonist—bullshit! There’s no way I can say that! They wouldn’t even know what ‘Isekai’ means! Much less understand the irony in my words! He mentally facepalmed.

  Okay, okay… just go with the basics.

  “Take me as your cssic countryside kid who came to the big city to strike it rich,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Actually, my story’s kind of funny. I made a bet with a few friends who didn’t believe I could get into the Adventurer Academy. And somehow—not just to their surprise but mine too—I actually pulled it off. So, yeah. That’s how I got here.”

  A few people chuckled at the honesty.

  “But damn, everything in this city’s expensive! The coins I thought would st a month vanished in a week. Now I’m scrambling to pick up any work I can just to survive. My family’s too broke to send anything, so I’m pretty much winging it day by day,” Ethan said, ying it on thick.

  "That's a total lie!" Daniel protested. "This guy made two gold coins just st week in Potion Crafting!"

  Ethan just shrugged, as if to say, So what?

  "And it only took one parade to drain my wallet dry!" he added with a dramatic sigh.

  Misha blushed, feeling a twinge of guilt—she knew she was the main reason those golden coins had vanished. But when she caught the teasing smile on Ethan’s face, she realized he was only half-serious.

  Then, with a sly grin, Ethan leaned back and said, “Anyway, as for my status—" he shot a gnce at Misha, "—unless someone here has any objections," he turned back to the table and decred proudly, "I’d say I’m taken."

  “Traitor!” Daniel cried, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded.

  Meanwhile, Misha, sitting quietly nearby, went red as a tomato. “R-right… you’re mine…” she mumbled under her breath, barely audible.

  Anya blinked and tilted her head. “Wait, what was that?”

  “N-n-nothing!” Misha squeaked, waving her hands in panic. Her face somehow turned even redder. “A-a-anyway, it’s m-my turn!”

  Misha stood up, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. Her voice wavered as she began.

  “M-my name is Misha… I-I’m a Healer.”

  She paused for a second, eyes flicking around the room before settling somewhere safe—on the floor.

  “I’m… the third daughter of a Count,” she continued, forcing the words out slowly. “I came to the Adventurer Academy to get away from… from home. My family, um… they weren’t very kind to me. So I wanted a pce where I could be myself.”

  There was a moment of silence as her words hung in the air. Her eyes were still down, but her voice grew steadier.

  “My goal is… to make friends. And memories. To enjoy my time here as much as I can.”

  Then, suddenly, as if remembering something important, her expression sharpened slightly.

  “And… to kill a dragon.”

  That earned a couple surprised looks and a few raised eyebrows, but no one interrupted.

  Finally, her voice dipped again as she tried to finish.

  “A-and… as for my… status…” She peeked toward Ethan, then turned a deep shade of red. “I-I’m… n-not single…”

  The room paused for a beat—then Daniel let out a low whistle while Celica and Anya exchanged wide-eyed gnces.

  Oliver blinked. “Wait, when did that happen?”

  “W-we’re not talking about that right now!” Misha squeaked, her voice muffled as she buried her face in Ethan’s shoulder, her whole body radiating embarrassment.

  Ethan just smirked, clearly amused, and gave her a gentle pat on the back. She tightened her grip on him in response, as if hiding from the world, which only made the others chuckle softly. With an almost absentminded tenderness, Ethan brought his hand to her head and began smoothing her hair in slow, calming strokes.

  Then, with his voice low and easy, he turned toward the next in line. “Anya, your turn.”

  “Th-that’s right!” Anya said, rising from her seat with a little start, cheeks slightly flushed but her tone confident.

  “My name is Anya Brightshield. First-year Healer, daughter of a knight, and best friend of this adorable mess over here,” she said, gesturing to Misha, who remained firmly glued to Ethan.

  She turned her gaze on Ethan, squinting at him with mock severity. “So if anyone hurts her—even you—I’ll be the first one swinging.”

  Ethan raised a hand in mock surrender, smiling. “I’ll behave. Probably.”

  Anya continued without missing a beat. “Anyway, my goal’s to follow in my father’s footsteps. That means becoming a full-fledged adventurer and earning my badge of honor through real experience. That’s why I came to this academy—so one day, I can be worthy of the title of knight.”

  She struck a confident pose, then fshed a mischievous grin toward the third-years. “As for the important question—yes, I’m single. But no offense, seniors—I’m not looking to get adopted.”

  That earned a round of ughter from both tables, with Jared dramatically clutching his chest like he’d just been rejected in a romance py.

  With the spotlight shifting once more, all eyes naturally turned to the two first-years still left to speak—Oliver and Celica.

  “You first?” Celica asked, nudging him with her elbow.

  “Fine…” Oliver sighed, standing up and brushing his fingers through his hair with a casual motion.

  “Name’s Oliver Greaves—yes, that Greaves,” he added dryly. “And no, I’m not rich. My family’s money is not my money… unfortunately.”

  A few chuckles rolled through the group.

  “I’m a Healer, same as Ethan and Daniel. In fact, we’re the only three guys in the css, so we stick together a lot—not because we’re into each other or anything,” he said with a smirk, “just easier to bond over shared suffering in a sea of estrogen.”

  More ughter.

  “As for my retionship status… I actually do have a fiancée.” That quieted the group almost immediately. Even the third-years blinked in surprise. Anya’s face twitched, and she tilted her head ever so slightly, her smile freezing for a half-second—but she recovered quickly.

  “It was arranged by our families. The number of times I’ve actually met her can be counted on one hand. Still, I respect her, and I don’t pn on breaking her trust, even if I barely know her.”

  There was a beat of silence, then a few approving nods.

  Oliver crossed his arms. “As for why I’m here? Simple. Family tradition. Every single Greaves child must graduate from the Adventurer Academy. Those who can’t…”

  He paused and fshed a smirk.

  “I’ll leave the consequences to your imagination.”

  A low whistle came from one of the third-years. “Rough house.”

  Oliver shrugged and sat down, taking one more sip of his drink.

  Now, with only one left, everyone turned to Celica—who straightened in her seat, brushed her hair back, and met the gazes with a glint of challenge in her eye.

  “I suppose it’s my turn, then,” Celica said in a proud tone, rising to her feet with the grace of someone fully prepared to leave a sting impression.

  But before she could utter another word, Daniel leaned forward with a devilish grin and cut her off.

  “This is Celica Ward,” he decred dramatically, “Christopher’s number one fan and personal healer. Her hobbies include stalking, writing fanfics, and other things I dare not speak aloud in public.”

  Laughter broke out instantly.

  “As any other damsel stuck in a one-sided love story, she’s eternally single and entirely uninterested in anybody but her shining knight in armor.” He gave a mock sigh. “That’s all.”

  “HEY!!!!!” Celica practically shrieked, her entire face fring red as she spun on Daniel like a thunderstorm in motion.

  The room erupted into cackling. Even the normally composed third-years were shaking with ughter. Anya had to cover her mouth to avoid snorting, while Ethan just shook his head, amused but clearly used to this brand of chaos.

  Her blush wasn’t just embarrassment—it was pure, righteous indignation. “DANIEL ROOKS, I SWEAR TO THE GODS—”

  She lunged at him, arm swinging wildly as Daniel yelped and ducked behind Ethan, who threw up his hands in surrender. “It was a joke! A joke!! Please don’t kill me—I’m fragile!”

  “You are so dead,” Celica growled, chasing after him.

  “Hey, I didn’t say anything about the shrine under your bed,” he shot back, grinning.

  “THERE IS NO SHRINE!!” she roared, scandalized.

  Oliver, already mid-sip, nearly spit out his water. Anya leaned back, tears of ughter in her eyes. Even Christopher blinked, tilting his head. “Shrine? What shrine?”

  “NOTHING!!” Celica and Daniel barked in unison—hers a panicked screech, his a smug cackle.

  Celica marched back to her spot, muttering under her breath as she smoothed her clothes, trying to gather the st shreds of her composure.

  “I hate you,” she muttered toward Daniel, not even looking at him.

  Daniel, lounging now like he hadn’t just narrowly escaped death, beamed. “I know.”

  Finally, Celica took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and turned to face the crowd. Her eyes swept over the group, daring anyone else to interrupt.

  “Anyway, as I was trying to say before someone decided to make this their final day on earth…”

  The chuckles softened, the room settling, attention fully hers now—though a few grins still lingered.

  “I’m Celica Ward. I’m a Healer. Best friends with Misha and Anya. And as of today, I’ve officially decred a blood feud against Daniel Rooks.”

  That earned more ughter, lighter this time—fond.

  “Yes, I am a fan of Christopher,” she said, chin high. “But I deny everything else—no stalking, no fanfics, and absolutely no shrine. I don’t even own candles.”

  “So they ran out, huh?” Daniel muttered.

  Celica ignored him with the grace of a seasoned noblewoman.

  “My main weapon is the spear. I’ve had some training from my older brother—he’s not famous or anything, but he hits like a runaway ox. I hold my own.”

  She paused, her tone shifting ever so slightly.

  “My family holds a baron title, but we’re not exactly swimming in gold. Our nds are two tiny pioneer vilges way up north—hot, muddy, and full of problems. We’ve spent more coin fixing broken barns than we ever earned in taxes.

  “As for why I’m here? It’s where my parents met. The Adventurer Academy gave them their strength, their story, their bond. I grew up hearing about it like it was some kind of legend.” She smiled softly. “So I came here looking for my own story.”

  A pause.

  “And if I do write a fanfic, it’ll be titled ‘Daniel Rooks: Gone Too Soon.’”

  The room howled with ughter. Even Christopher gave a soft chuckle, though he still looked like he didn’t entirely get the joke.

  Celica sat down at st, head high and eyes twinkling, her dramatic entrance somehow turned into a triumphant exit.

  And Daniel? He just gave her a slow cp, grinning ear to ear.