CHAPTER 27: ARRAYS OF WELCOME

Eric could still vividly recall the moment Winter waved him off at the academy gates. Though her expression remained stoic, there was a subtle softening in her eyes that gave away the slightest hint of warmth before she turned and disappeared with the Archon’s aides.

That was just her way. Strong, controlled, and perhaps a little intimidating. But Eric couldn’t bring himself to fault her for it.

After that, things moved with a sense of urgency. His name was quickly enrolled in the academy’s central archives, a personalized tag created for him.

They handed him a crisp, blue uniform and a detailed guidebook, then informed him that he would be staying in one of the academy’s living quarters, which they referred to not as "Wards."

Apparently, the term "Ward" carried more of that ancient, magical term that the academy seemed to wallow in. Not that Eric was going to argue. He was far too overwhelmed by the sheer grace of this place to worry over semantics.

The ward he was assigned to was a mixed-gender variety, which already had him raising a brow. In fact, every ward was mixed-gender.

He hadn’t quite expected to be sharing living space with two boys and a girl he had yet to meet. But as he stepped through the doorway, his attention was immediately drawn to the lone female occupant.

He was quick to know her name was Opal.

Tall, dark, a little suntanned maybe, and undeniably beautiful in a sharp, almost dangerous way. She commanded attention the moment he laid eyes on her, but not the type of attention one would expect. She had an eerie feeling to her. Or maybe it was just Eric and anything weird looks eerie to him.

Her jet-black hair flowed like ink, and her attire matched the hue of the room. Even the little ornaments on her boots looking like tiny curved blades. There was a silent, palpable presence about her that made Eric feel as if she was scrutinizing his every thought, even when she didn’t utter a word.

The brief greeting she offered him was curt, her gaze cutting through him like a stone wall. Eric felt prickles all over his skin. Something about her just felt off, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Across the room, one of the boys bounded over to greet him, his warm smile and soft eyes instantly putting Eric at ease.

Gary.

He had a youthful, almost innocent air about him that seemed at odds with the idea of a "magical war academy." Wearing simple clothes and carrying an old, handmade sword at his hip, Gary explained that his father had forged the blade for him back home—a fact that had Eric raising an eyebrow, though the academy apparently saw no issue with it.

"Welcome to Ward Seven," Gary said with a grin. "If you need help with anything, just ask. We don’t bite."

Eric nodded, appreciating the friendly gesture. "Good to know."

Then the final occupant emerged from the bathroom, combing his hair with a confident, almost theatrical flourish that suggested he believed the world should be watching his every move.

Silver. That’s his name, only there’s nothing silvery about him. He reeks of Gold, if that element has a smell.

Tall and lean, with sharp, eagle-like eyes, Silver’s uniform was impeccably neat, his sleeves rolled just so. He wasted no time in firing off a barrage of questions, his curiosity bordering on relentless.

"So where are you from? What city? What rank did you score before coming here? Is your weapon unique? Did you get a system inheritance? What’s your element affinity? Wait, did you qualify as a mage?"

Eric had to resist the urge to simply walk out of the room. Silver’s interrogation felt invasive, as if he was determined to dig out every last secret Eric harbored.

Still, there was a certain charm to the boy’s unwavering confidence. He seemed utterly convinced that he would one day become the academy’s strongest knight.

Settling onto his bed, Eric eyed the folded blue uniform beside him, his gaze settling on the strange crest stitched into the fabric. "Somebody needs to sue the designer," he muttered under his breath, not quite understanding the peculiar fusion of a bird, a sword, and those enigmatic circles.

As Gary and Silver departed for their afternoon classes, the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Eric tried to enjoy the brief silence, but Opal’s unwavering gaze continued to prickle against the back of his neck. It felt as if she was studying him, categorizing him, perhaps even viewing him as some kind of enemy.

’Does she think I’m her nemesis or something?’ he said to himself, thoroughly confused by her obvious disdain.

When the two boys had left, Opal suddenly moved, pulling out a thick, leather strap that resembled a belt, but with a rugged, almost combat-ready quality to it. Eric blinked, uncertain.

"What’s wrong? Are we doing a training exercise?"

Opal offered no reply, her eyes darkening as she took a step toward him. Then, in a sudden, fluid motion, she lashed out, the belt snapping across Eric’s cheek with a sharp crack that reverberated through the room. Pain shot through his face, and he staggered back, barely catching himself before he fell.

"You," Opal said, her voice low and dangerous. "You’re a strange one. I know it. But not to worry. Even this rope could knock the truth out of a silly goose like you."

Eric’s instincts kicked in, his legs lowering into a defensive stance, his first impulse to use his Killer Dash ability. But his hesitation cost him, as Opal moved with blinding speed, the belt lashing out again, leaving a stinging mark on his cheek.

Touching the tender skin, Eric stared at Opal in bewilderment. "That... that wasn’t a joke."

Raising the belt once more, Opal looked ready to tear him apart, piece by piece. "Why are you—?"

The door opened, and Gary stepped in, confusion etched on his face. "I forgot my—"

Opal froze, as did Eric, both of them caught in the compromising situation. Gary blinked, glancing between the two of them. "...What are you two doing?"

Immediately, Opal relaxed her grip on the belt, casually adjusting her boot as if nothing had happened. Eric, too, pretended to inspect a crack in the floor, the awkward silence palpable.

Gary, after a brief shrug, simply grabbed what he had forgotten and left, the door clicking shut behind him. Opal then fixed Eric with a pointed, warning look—not just a threat, but a promise—before turning and stalking out of the room.

Left alone, Eric stood there, his head spinning. He touched his cheek again, the pain still raw and real. Opal had attacked him deliberately, for reasons he couldn’t begin to imagine. Reaching out to his system, he tried to make sense of the situation.

"System, what is her problem? Did I step on some forbidden tile or breathe wrongly or what?"

The reply came swiftly.

[Maybe you’re just punchable.]

[I’d want to punch you too if I was a living being.]

Eric groaned, rolling his eyes. "Thanks for nothing."

Dressing in his blue beginner’s uniform, Eric could still feel the slight tremor in his hands as he tied the belt, not out of fear, but pure confusion.

Nothing about this place, these people, or the trials he was about to face seemed remotely normal. Exhaling deeply, he picked up the guidebook and steeled himself for his first class.

Whether he was ready or not, the journey was about to begin.