The announcement of the House Selection sent a ripple through the academy.
A shockwave that turned hushed whispers into frantic speculation, leaving no corridor untouched by its reach.
For most students, it was just a formality—a chance to solidify their allegiances and prove their worth to the noble factions that would one day determine their futures.
For Arashi?
It was an invitation to a battlefield painted with centuries of tradition, where every step could trigger a hidden snare.
The Rules of the Game
The House Selection was an old tradition, steeped in the blood and ambition of generations past.
Students would be placed into different Houses based on their abilities, connections, and raw potential
It was a sorting that would define their place in the academy's ruthless hierarchy.
Most noble families already had their heirs positioned in the dominant Houses, their paths secured through birthright and backroom deals.
The real contest was for those who stood on uncertain ground, trying to grasp at opportunities that others were born clutching.
Those like him.
The council had given him an offer wrapped in silk but lined with thorns.
Protection in exchange for... observation. As if he were some rare specimen to be studied under their watchful eyes.
But Arashi had no intention of being someone's experiment, a curiosity locked in a gilded cage.
He would forge his own path through the storm.
Even if it meant making enemies of those who controlled the weather itself.
"House Gale requests your presence."
The voice sliced through his thoughts like a cold blade.
Arashi turned to find a student dressed in dark green, his House emblem embroidered in silver thread that caught the light like captured lightning.
House Gale—one of the strongest Houses, known for their wind-based magic and cutthroat politics that left rivals breathless in more ways than one.
One of their leaders? Takeda Renji. Heir to a dynasty that had crushed challengers beneath their heel for generations.
Arashi smiled, the gesture never reaching his eyes. "I'm afraid I'm not interested."
The messenger hesitated, shoulders tensing as if bracing against an invisible gale.
"Refusing an invitation outright could be... unwise. Some offers aren't meant to be declined."
Arashi's smile didn't fade, but something dangerous flickered in his gaze.
"Then consider this an early lesson. I don't play by their rules—or bend to their winds."
The student paled but nodded before hurrying off, looking like a man escaping the eye of a hurricane.
Arashi watched him go, his mind already calculating, dissecting the hidden meanings behind the invitation.
Renji was preparing for something beyond a simple recruitment.
And that meant he should be too, before the gathering storm broke upon him.
The main arena pulsed with tension, every heartbeat in the vast chamber synchronized to the rhythm of ambition.
Students gathered in clusters, whispering, forming last-minute alliances that would either elevate or doom them.
The air itself seemed charged with unspoken threats and desperate hopes.
At the center of it all stood the House Masters—senior students who controlled their respective factions with iron wills and silver tongues.
Their robes rippled with colors that marked their territories: the emerald green of House Gale, the crimson of House Ember, the midnight blue of House Abyss, and others who stood in their shadows.
Names were called. Students stepped forward, pledging their loyalty like knights before monarchs of old.
Then—
"Kurobane Arashi."
The name fell like a stone into still water, sending ripples of silence across the gathered crowd.
All eyes turned to him—some curious, some contemptuous, all calculating what his presence meant for their own designs.
Whispers spread like wildfire in a parched forest.
"The magic-less one."
"Why is he even here?"
"Watch—no one will take him."
Arashi walked forward, his footsteps echoing in the unnatural quiet, his expression unreadable as ancient stone.
The weight of hundreds of stares pressed against him, but he moved as if he felt nothing at all.
One by one, the House Masters regarded him, their gazes dissecting him layer by layer.
Some with curiosity, as if examining an unusual specimen.
Some with open disdain, barely concealing their contempt.
Some with cold calculation, weighing his potential usefulness against his many liabilities.
The Student Council watched from above like gods on Mount Olympus, their expressions impassive yet missing nothing.
Ayame's gaze lingered on him, waiting with the patience of a predator who knows its prey has nowhere to run.
Then, the House Masters spoke, breaking the suffocating silence.
House Gale. House Ember. House Abyss.
Three offers where most expected none.
Three different paths leading to the same destination—servitude.
And yet—
Arashi glanced at the assembled nobles, the ones who had laughed at him, dismissed him as nothing more than a stain on their pristine academy.
He took a step forward—then turned away from the path that had been laid before him.
"I decline."
The words hung in the air, simple yet earth-shattering.
Gasps. Shocked murmurs cascaded through the crowd like dominoes falling.
Ayame's eyes flickered with amusement, a spark igniting in their depths.
Takeda Renji?
His smirk vanished, replaced by something far darker—the gathering clouds of a tempest.
The House Masters exchanged uncertain glances, thrown off-balance by this deviation from the script they had prepared.
"You decline all offers?" The question carried the weight of disbelief.
Arashi's gaze swept across them, unflinching. "I have no interest in bending the knee to another."
More murmurs. Disbelief tinged with the first hints of unease.
One of the House Masters narrowed his eyes, voice sharp as a blade. "Then where do you belong in our world, Kurobane?"
Arashi smiled, and something in that smile made even the bravest shift uncomfortably.
"I'll create my own House."
Silence fell like an executioner's axe.
Then—
Laughter erupted, cascading from all corners of the arena.
Mocking. Skeptical. Cruel in its certainty.
"You? A magic-less, creating a House? What kind of joke is this?"
"Has he lost his mind?"
"The arrogance!"
Arashi remained unfazed, a rock against which the waves of derision broke and receded.
"Rules state that any student who can gather a following may form a House.
There's no clause against it." His voice carried across the arena, quiet yet somehow cutting through the chaos like a blade through silk.
The House Masters exchanged wary glances, their amusement curdling into something less certain.
Technically, he wasn't wrong.
But who would follow him?
A nobody. A disgrace. A blank space where power should be.
No one in their right mind would stand with him against the established order.
Unless—
A voice rang out, clear and commanding.
"I'll join."
Gasps rippled through the crowd, a collective intake of breath that seemed to drain oxygen from the very air.
All eyes turned to the speaker, necks craning to identify the fool who would tie their fate to a sinking stone.
Kagura Ayame.
The Student Council's Trump card—a person whose power flowed through the academy's veins like quicksilver, beautiful and deadly.
Someone who everyone wanted on their side offered to join the so called magic-less
Arashi blinked, momentarily thrown from his careful composure.
She smiled—just slightly, the gesture holding secrets like a locked chest. "Consider it an experiment."
A storm of reactions followed, a hurricane of voices rising in protest and confusion.
The House Masters protested, faces flushed with indignation.
The nobles were in chaos, alliances fracturing before they had even fully formed.
Leonhardt, watching from above, smiled with the amusement of one who appreciated a well-played move on a board only he could fully see.
But the rules were rules, carved into the academy's foundations.
And just like that—the foundation was set, mortar mixed with disbelief.
A new House had been born in defiance of centuries of tradition.