The classroom wasn’t large—not compared to the grand lecture halls they’d passed on the way—but it had its own charms. Simple wooden walls, aged by time, and a faint scent of ink and oil hung in the air.

  Wor-en stood at the front, arms folded, as Kana, Boris, and Suri arrived. Sweat beaded their foreheads from the brisk walk—or maybe they ran. They dipped their heads slightly in apology and settled at the far end of the room. Five other students, already seated, turned to watch them with idle curiosity.

  Wor-en cleared his throat. The room quieted.

  “Looks like everyone’s here now,” he said. His voice was deep and even. “For those who arrived late”—his gaze locked on the trio—“I’ll introduce myself again. I’m Wor-en, your class advisor for the year. I’ve taught here for eight years. This will be my ninth.”

  He paused, letting that settle.

  “My class is [Thief], with a specialization in daggers, dungeon raids, and a fair share of broken bones. Most of them are mine.” A few students chuckled at that. He didn’t.

  “Now, I want each of you to introduce yourselves. Name, and your class.” He gestured toward the new arrivals. “Since you three were late, you go first.”

  Boris stood quickly, puffing out his chest a little. “I’m Boris. My class is [Spearman].”

  A low murmur rolled through the room. Whistles. Nods of approval. [Spearman] was a well-known class—strong, efficient, well-researched. A secured future. Of the seven [Spearmen] this year, four were in Gold Class, two in Silver. Boris was the only one in Copper.

  “Next,” Wor-en said sharply, cutting through the whispers.

  Suri stood, brushing crumbs from her uniform. “I’m Suri,” she said softly. “Class: [Illusionist].”

  Four of the boys grinned. Whether it was her voice or her appearance, they clearly had something else in their mind.

  Wor-en frowned slightly. “Haven’t seen that class before. Can you demonstrate?”

  He gestured to the open space in the center of the room.

  Suri nodded and walked forward. “Alright, I can summon... this.”

  She held out her hand. A small blob of shimmering water appeared—iridescent, shifting with color. It hovered, pulsed once, and vanished with a soft poof.

  No one laughed.

  In fact, the room's atmosphere grew tense. The other students didn’t mock her—they looked worried..

  Wor-en studied her, then gave a slight nod. “Thank you, Suri. Next.”

  Kana stood slowly. Her expression was unreadable. “Kana,” she said. “Class: [Ranger].”

  Her voice was low, surprisingly mature. It had an edge—smooth, but sharp. Authoritative. The kind that made people listen, whether they wanted to or not.

  The boys stared. They didn’t understand her class. They didn’t care. She was beautiful—though not in the delicate way Suri was. Kana had a rough, dangerous beauty. Like a blade.

  “I recall meeting you before,” Wor-en said. “But I’d still like to see a demonstration.”

  Kana stepped forward.

  Her gait was quiet—no unnecessary motion, no wasted steps. The room held its breath. Without a word, she pulled a dagger from her belt and tossed it into the air.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  It spun, a blur of steel catching the light.

  Gasps filled the room.

  At the last moment, Kana reached up and caught the dagger mid-spin. Her fingers closed around the hilt with practiced ease, and in the same motion, she sheathed it at her hip.

  Silence.

  “Excellent,” Wor-en said, folding his arms behind his back. “Let’s go right to left this time.”

  The student on the far right stood quickly. Pale, thin, and wearing round glasses that kept sliding down his nose. “I’m Roy. My class is [Necromancer].”

  He nearly tripped on his way to the front but managed to catch himself with an awkward hop.

  “I… don’t really know what my class does yet,” he admitted. “But one of my skills seems to make the air colder.”

  He raised a hand. A flicker of black energy sparked in his palm, vanishing almost instantly. Nothing seemed to happen at first. Then, slowly, the room began to chill. It wasn’t dramatic, but enough for a few students to rub their arms. All of a sudden, goosebumps were felt by anyone with no clear explanation.

  Wor-en nodded. “Very little. Thank you. Next.”

  A mountain of a boy stood up. Only Boris came close in size, and even then, this student—Adam—was nearly twice as broad, though still surprisingly lean.

  “I’m Adam, My class is [Barbarian]” he said. “One of my skills is [Toughness]. It hardens my body—like steel.”

  Without hesitation, he walked over to Kana. “Could you try to cut my arm?”

  Kana raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  Adam nodded once.

  She pulled her dagger. No flourish. Just a clean, focused swing—not full strength, but enough to test. The blade struck his forearm with a metallic clink, then bounced off harmlessly.

  Kana lowered her weapon, eyebrows drawn in thought. “You’re not bluffing.”

  The rest of the class murmured, clearly impressed.

  Adam, however, looked at her with faint doubt. Her strike was tougher than it looks.

  “Excellent, Adam. Well done,” Wor-en said. “Next.”

  A tall girl stood—pale, with wide, intelligent eyes that seemed to read more than just what was visible. She was the only other girl besides Kana and Suri.

  “I’m Rin. My class is [Inquisitor].” Her voice trembled slightly. “I… I have a skill called [Judgement]. It lets me know if someone is good or bad.”

  Several students leaned forward, curiosity rising. Even Kana’s trio exchanged glances.

  Rin glanced nervously at Wor-en. “You’re a good person, teacher.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Wor-en’s mouth. “I believe you. And yes, I’d say that’s an incredible skill.”

  A few students murmured in disagreement, but Wor-en silenced them with a sharp look. “Next.”

  The next student shuffled forward, his uniform streaked with dirt, mud still clinging to the cuffs of his pants.

  “I’m Toby,” he said, voice quiet. “My class is [Exorcist]. Honestly… I still don’t know what my skills do. I have [Dispel Curse] and [Curse Immunity].”

  Wor-en gave him a firm nod. “That’s alright, Toby. We’ll figure it out together. This is what your first year is for.”

  “Next.”

  The final student stood tall and composed, red hair neatly combed—though a darker shade than Suri’s—and eyes cool and calculating. He carried himself with the ease of someone who’d grown up giving orders.

  “I’m Andel Kergastel, fifth son of Viscount Kergastel. My class is [Lancer].”

  He stepped forward, grabbed a training spear from the rack, and spun it in a sharp, elegant motion. For a moment, the spearhead glowed with radiant light, bright enough to force several students to shield their eyes.

  “One of my skills is [Shining Strike],” he explained. “It looks impressive… but it barely leaves a scratch. That’s why I ended up in Copper Class.”

  From the back, Suri leaned toward Kana and whispered, “What do you think? Looks noble, and kind of cute, right?”

  Kana didn’t look away. “He looks weak.” but his class should be strong.. Am I wrong?

  Suri huffed.

  Andel returned the spear and walked calmly back to his seat.

  Wor-en stepped forward again. “And I’m here to remind all of you—never judge yourselves by your starting skills. Hard work beats better skills, every time.”

  He let that hang in the air for a few seconds..