[Calyra’s POV]

After the evening reading session, Calyra returned to her private room. The bathtub water was neither warm nor cold as Calyra sat within it, her back straight, submerged until the water reached her collarbones.

Then, she sighed and willed the water to freeze. The temperature plummeted immediately, the once-languid water turning brittle, its surface cracking as ice spread from her touch.

Calyra closed her eyes as she listened to the soft, crystalline chime of water turning to ice.

Most people acted strange around her. It wasn’t always immediate—some held their composure for a few moments, pretending not to notice the status she carried. But it never lasted.

Sooner or later, they watched their words too closely, smiled too wide, or stumbled over pleasantries she hadn’t asked for. They didn’t speak to her but spoke to the idea of her.

As if judgment was all she knew how to give. The only person in the academy that treated her for who she was… was Silvena—her childhood friend.

She blinked slowly, then stared ahead at the drifting ice crystals in her tub. “And him…” Her fingers trailed across the frozen surface, thoughtful.

The same when he stood up to Instructor Delila. It didn’t matter who they were or where they came from. As if what mattered to him was not who held power, but whether that power was rightfully used.

There’s no arrogance in him either.

She found herself… curious. There was something about him she didn’t understand. And in that gap of understanding, something gentle had begun to grow.

She wanted to know what lay behind those calm eyes. What beliefs shaped those words spoken without fear. And what kind of path he walked that allowed him to stand courageously.

Her voice grew quieter, almost shy. “Ah… I forgot to ask for his name.”

She closed her eyes again and leaned back slightly, letting the frost gently embrace her shoulders.

‘…I think I’d like to talk to him again.’

Not because she had to.

But simply because… she wanted to. (+50PP)

****

[Ruvian’s POV]

The next day, the morning break had just begun when Ruvian noticed a figure approaching his classroom, waiting just beyond the doors.

She stood with an easy confidence, her posture straight but relaxed. Her long ash brown hair, tied in a high ponytail, touched the morning light.

Her soft hazel eyes scanned the row of students leaving the class. The moment she spotted him, a subtle, courteous smile appeared on her face.

“Excuse me.”

Ruvian didn’t need to look up to know she was addressing him, but he did anyway.

“Yes?”

“I hope I’m not disturbing your break, Ruvian, right?”

Ruvian nodded and simply waited for her to continue, knowing she would get to the point.

“My name is Yerin. I wanted to invite you to join us in the Dining Hall. The rest of our team will be there. I figured it’s a good opportunity to get to know each other before the test.”

Yerin continued, watching his reaction. “I’ve already reserved a table for us. If you’re free, I’d appreciate it if you could join.”

Yerin Solder.

A student from Class A, who will be one of his future teammates for the Vazrun Isle Test.

Ruvian was not surprised because he had anticipated this. In the novel, before the departure, each team would naturally start forming bonds. Whether out of necessity or genuine camaraderie, team members would seek to understand one another. One of the simplest ways to do so was through shared meals.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Ruvian studied her briefly. It was a simple offer and there was no reason to refuse.

“Thanks for inviting me, sure.” (+10PP)

Yerin’s smile widened slightly, as if checking off a step in her plan. “Great. We’re heading there now. You can come whenever you’re ready.” With that, she turned, her movements composed and measured, disappearing into the hallway.

‘By the way, how much longer is the progress for me to break through to the next stage of [Narrative Relevancy]?’

[RELEVANCE TO NARRATIVE THREAD]

I. Footnote of Fate ← You Are Here

II. Wandering Annotation

III. Drafted Catalyst

IV. Pivotal Rewrite

V. Core Canon

[Progress toward next stage: 69%]

“Alright, good. Then, the chaos in the Dining Hall should be enough to push me to the next stage.”

***

The Dining Hall was huge, a vast area intended to serve the entire first-year student population.

Expansive arched windows above him allowed sunlight to flood in, brightening the neatly organized tables lined up in rows.

The aroma of newly prepared dishes wafted through into him, blending with soft chatter and the sporadic noise of trays.

Ruvian usually sat among the scholars from his class, keeping to his own space. But today, he had a different destination.

Scanning the room, he spotted Yerin near the far end of the hall, waving a hand toward him. She had already gathered the rest of their team.

Three unfamiliar faces sat with her—Arlok, Shima, and Horren. Ruvian gave a slight nod in their direction before making his way toward the food counters.

The Dining Hall featured an impressive selection of meals, accommodating various backgrounds and tastes.

Ruvian's eyes scanned the offerings before homing in on a reasonable choice—a nicely proportioned dish, not overly lavish nor too simple. It included a portion of roasted chicken, seasoned vegetables, and a serving of robust grain.

Sufficient to maintain his energy without going overboard on spending.

As he handed over the appropriate amount of coins, a mental note formed in his mind.

'I need to make money fast after the Vazrun Isle Test.’ His funds weren't depleted yet, but they also weren't infinite. Practicing thriftiness now was essential. His prospects at Velthia required resources, and he was determined not to let money become a constraint.

Balancing his tray, Ruvian made his way toward the reserved table. Yerin gestured toward an empty seat.

Arlok, a robust young man with intense brown eyes, glanced in his direction but remained silent.

Shima, a girl sporting short silver hair with violet eyes and small figures, gave a brief nod in acknowledgment. Horren, the most towering of the group, displayed a hint of curiosity but refrained from starting a discussion.

He nodded at them before setting down his tray. No one spoke immediately, the importance of first impressions lingering between them.

Velthia Academy took great pride in its meritocratic system, yet it was impossible to ignore the unacknowledged divides between the different classes. This content belongs to novel•fire.net

Scholars in Class A seldom socialized with those in Class E. Class B had little motivation to engage with Class C. There was no animosity, but rather a deeply rooted separation.

Maybe that was why they decided to make this kind of joint test. Sounds a bit hypocritical in itself.

Yerin, aware of this, took the initiative. “I hope you didn’t have a hard time finding us.”

Ruvian merely shook his head. “Not at all.”

Arlok leaned back, arms crossed. “This is weird, huh? Eating with scholars outside our class. Feels like we’re breaking some rules.”

“I don't think so,” Horren offered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, we’re in the same academy.”

Shima, who had been quiet until now, exhaled. "It's not that bad. It’s just rarely done.”

Arlok’s gaze landed on Ruvian. “So, you’re from Class E, huh? It must be tough.”

“No. It's quite manageable,” Ruvian replied. (+10PP)

Horren chuckled. “Eighty people in one class sounds chaotic.”

Shima shot him a look. “Are you dense? Every class has eighty students.”

“Oh, right,” Horren said, backtracking. “I just meant… the environment’s probably different.”

He turned to Ruvian again. “So, how’s the teaching there? Any good?”

Arlok sighed, cutting in. “You. Stop asking him pointless questions.”

Ruvian took a sip of his drink before responding. “It’s not actually that bad.” (+10PP)

Arlok pinched the bridge of his nose. “And you. Don’t encourage him.”

Yerin, noticing the conversation drifting toward a divide, smoothly redirected it. “Well, I think we should use this as a chance to at least know each other a little. We don’t have to be best friends, but we’ll be teammates soon. It makes sense to understand each other a little, right?”

Horren, eager to break the tension, nodded. “Yeah, like… routines or training schedules. What does your usual day look like?”

That, at least, was neutral ground. The conversation gradually softened as they spoke about their schedules, their professors, and small daily occurrences.

The tension hadn’t entirely faded, but it was no longer suffocating. Ruvian glanced at Horren. His easygoing nature and tendency to speak before thinking reminded him of someone—Shindo, one of his former co-workers in his past life.

Their mannerisms were identical.

Horren, oblivious to the comparison, continued talking animatedly. “I swear, my instructor called me Hogen for a whole week before I corrected him.”

Shima smirked. “Maybe you look like a Hogen.”

“Do I? No, wait. What is Hogen anyway? ” Horren turned to Ruvian as if he would have the answer.

Ruvian merely took another sip of his drink. “No idea.”

Arlok sighed. “This talk is ridiculous.” The tension had eased, if only slightly. The invisible wall between them wasn’t gone, but cracks were beginning to form.

Then… Clank!

A soft clatter and the quiet shuffle of a tray hitting the floor.

Ruvian didn’t have to glance over. As soon as the Dining Hall became quiet, he was aware. This marked one of the earliest intense moments in the story.

His teammates’ reactions confirmed it before his eyes ever did. Yerin’s fingers had paused around her cup, grip tightening ever so slightly. Horren, normally carefree, had gone rigid, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

Arlok sat unnervingly still, his usual sharp-edged bravado dulled by the weight of the moment. And Shima, always the most indifferent, had narrowed her eyes, a heavy tension settling in her shoulders.

Ruvian exhaled softly, putting his drink back on the table.

‘I guess, it's time now.’

PP= 2660

ME= 215