As I sat on the edge of the bed, staring out at the moonlit Academy grounds, my thoughts drifted back to the past two weeks, the chaotic whirlwind that led me here.
The first thing I saw when I arrived in this world wasn't the grand halls of the Academy, nor the battlefield I had expected. It was a lavish, unfamiliar bedroom, the air thick with the scent of herbs and candle wax. A soft glow from the bedside lantern illuminated the concerned faces of a maid and an elderly butler, both looking down at me as if I were something fragile, something broken.
Before I could even process what was happening, darkness swallowed me whole.
The next time I woke up, it was in the warm embrace of a woman I had never met before, yet whose voice trembled with relief as she held me close. My mother. Not mine, exactly, but the mother of this body. The body I had somehow been forced into. She wept, calling me by a name that was now mine to bear, running her fingers through my hair as if afraid I would disappear again.
The days that followed were filled with confusion, disorientation, and the slow realization that I had truly left my world behind.
And then, the system appeared.
At first, I had thought it would be like the ones I had read about—something that would give me quests, guide my path, and hand me rewards for completing its demands. But this system was different. It was silent. No intrusive voice, no missions, no forced directives. It only displayed a status window, cold and detached, offering nothing except raw information.
[Status Window]
It was simple, but it was enough.
I quickly learned how to use it, and the moment I figured out how to allocate the status points rewarded from leveling up, I wasted no time. Every point strengthened me. My body, my mind, my magic. Each level brought a surge of power, refining my control and sharpening my instincts. Within days, I had already become stronger than this body had ever been before.
This world was dangerous. I had no intention of remaining weak.
And yet, despite all my preparation, I hadn't expected to end up here. At the Academy, standing in the presence of a legendary warlock, being assigned as an instructor. That had never been part of my plan.
I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair as I leaned back against the headboard.
What now?
I had come here for answers, for a way to carve my own path in this world. But it seemed fate had already started pulling me toward something bigger.
Morning arrived too soon.
I had been awake long before the first rays of sunlight filtered through the tall windows of my quarters, casting faint golden streaks across the wooden floor. The Academy grounds were still quiet, save for the occasional rustling of attendants preparing for the day.
Today marked the welcoming ceremony for the first-years.
I exhaled slowly, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. My uniform was already waiting for me, neatly folded atop the desk. A dark, formal, and lined with silver embroidery marking my rank as an instructor. It felt foreign. Unfamiliar. I hadn't expected to wear these colors, nor had I planned to take on this role.
Instructor.
The title still didn't sit well with me.
I dressed in silence, fastening the high-collared coat and adjusting the belt until everything was properly in place. The moment I secured the last button, I caught my reflection in the polished mirror across the room. The person staring back at me looked composed, dignified even. But beneath the carefully arranged exterior, I still felt like an outsider.
With a quiet sigh, I stepped into the corridor.
The Academy was already stirring. Attendants hurried about, adjusting banners and preparing the grand hall for the ceremony. Deep blue fabric, embroidered with golden spells and symbols of the Academy's legacy, draped elegantly along the marble pillars.
My footsteps echoed softly as I descended the grand staircase. Other instructors had already begun gathering outside the auditorium, engaged in murmured conversations. Some looked eager to meet the new batch of students, while others seemed indifferent, treating today as just another formality.
I wasn't sure where I stood between them.
The grand doors to the ceremony hall loomed ahead, slightly ajar. Inside, rows of seats stretched toward the grand stage where the Headmaster would soon stand to give his address. The air carried a quiet anticipation, the kind that came before something significant.
And soon, the first-years would arrive.
Among them would be him.
The protagonist.
I had read about him, admired his journey, followed his rise to power in my past life. But now, he wasn't just a story. He was here. Real, breathing, stepping onto the same path that would lead him toward greatness.
And for some reason, fate had placed me here as well. Not as a rival. Not as an ally. But as an instructor. As I straightened my coat and took my place at the front, I couldn't ignore the small flicker of anticipation beneath my reluctance.
The grand hall buzzed with quiet murmurs as the first-year students took their seats, their expressions ranging from nervous excitement to barely concealed arrogance. Some whispered among themselves, eyes darting around the vast auditorium, while others sat stiffly, hands clenched in their laps. The air was thick with anticipation.
At the very front of the stage, standing beneath a towering banner bearing the Academy's crest, was the Headmaster. He remained silent for a long moment, observing the students with a sharp yet amused gaze.
Then, he moved.
A single step forward.
The hall fell silent.
"Welcome," the Headmaster's voice rang out, steady and commanding, filling every corner of the chamber without the need for amplification. His tone carried the weight of decades of experience. Firm, yet warm, like a veteran addressing new recruits before their first battle.
"You stand here today not as mere students, but as those who have been chosen." He let his words settle, sweeping his gaze over the gathered crowd. "Out of thousands, you have proven yourselves worthy of entering these halls. But make no mistake. Stepping through these doors does not make you great. The world beyond these walls does not care for titles or birthright. Strength, skill, and wisdom will determine your worth."
A hush settled over the students. Some straightened their backs instinctively, while others swallowed nervously.
"For centuries, this Academy has trained warriors, scholars, and mages who have shaped history. Some of you will follow in their footsteps. Others… will fall short." His piercing gaze flickered across the room, as if already evaluating who among them would thrive and who would crumble.
"But know this, if you have the will to rise, if you have the drive to carve your name into the annals of history, then you will find no better place than here."
He lifted his hand, and with a flick of his fingers, a soft hum of magic resonated through the chamber. The banners above flared with golden light, illuminating the ancient inscriptions woven into their fabric. Symbols of knowledge, power, and legacy.
"This is your beginning. Your future is yours to shape."
He lowered his hand, and the golden glow faded, leaving behind a sense of awe. Then, his stern expression softened slightly, his lips curling into the faintest of smiles.
"Now then," he continued, his tone carrying a touch of amusement, "before we continue, I'm sure many of you are eager to prove yourselves. Fortunately, we have just the thing to test whether your presence here is truly earned."
A ripple of unease and excitement spread through the crowd. Some students tensed, while others exchanged glances.
From my place at the side, I narrowed my eyes slightly.
Of course, he wouldn't just let them settle in quietly.
Like the headmasters in every novel he had read, this one was no different. Eccentric and unpredictable.
The real test was about to begin.
*****