Luke cracked his fingers and let out a loud yawn, stretching his body as he slowly woke up. His mind was still in a haze, groggily wondering about the time. Did I oversleep? Panic flared for a moment before the events of the previous night came rushing back.

Right, the academy’s activities wouldn’t begin until later. With that realization, he relaxed, sinking back into his plush bed. His eyes drifted to the intricately beautiful chandelier hanging from the tall, decorated ceiling. Though his body was still nestled in comfort, his mind had already shaken off all traces of sleep.

“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing his face with both hands before stretching once more. His gaze fell upon a grand wall-mounted clock reminiscent of an ornate French cartel clock.

6:37 a.m.

Too early. Luke sighed, lamenting his natural habit of waking up at dawn. There was no point in going back to sleep now, so with mild reluctance, he rolled out of bed, scratching his arms as he made his way to the bathroom.

After brushing his teeth and ensuring he was thoroughly refreshed, he zipped up a casual jacket, glancing at himself in the full-length mirror. His reflection stared back—still a little sleepy, but undeniably eager.

His gaze shifted towards the corner of the room where all his luggage was neatly arranged in a trolley. His attention was drawn to one particular item—a medium-sized briefcase given to him by Garhan. Luke had been explicitly instructed not to open it until he reached the academy. The curiosity that had been simmering in the back of his mind now bubbled to the surface.

Carefully lifting the briefcase onto his bed, he took a deep breath before unlatching it. His heart pounded slightly with anticipation as the lid creaked open, revealing its contents.

Two neatly folded magical parchments lay within.

Luke’s eyes widened. He recognized them instantly. These were Beginner Skill Scrolls—rare, highly sought-after items that he had only read about in books. He almost couldn't believe Garhan had managed to get his hands on not just one, but two of these invaluable scrolls for someone like him.

With a rush of excitement, Luke brought up their description using his system interface, and a translucent screen materialized before his eyes.

Item: Beginner Skill Scroll

Type: Consumable – Single Use

Effect: Grants the user a random skill related to their class. There is a chance of receiving a duplicate skill. Has a medium chance to give a non-class related skill.

Restriction: Can only be used by individuals whose stats are all below 100. Ineffective on those with any stat exceeding the threshold.

Luke inhaled sharply. He knew these scrolls were invaluable because they allowed individuals to obtain new abilities without having to grind for skill unlocks through practice or combat. Not to mention, they were prohibitively expensive, often hoarded by noble families or powerful organizations.

Yet here he was, holding not one, but two.

His fingers trembled slightly as he picked one up, the weight of its significance pressing down on him. This was a chance. With only three meager skills to his name, he had nothing to lose. At the very least, unless he was cursed with the worst possible luck, he was guaranteed to gain something useful.

A grin slowly crept onto his face. Garhan had really outdone himself this time.

Excitement thrummed through his veins as he prepared to activate the scrolls..

Without hesitation, Luke picked up one of the scrolls, gripping it tightly as he focused on activating it. The parchment pulsed in response, its intricate runes glowing with an ethereal blue light. Wisps of energy coiled around his fingers before surging into his body like a jolt of electricity. The sensation was neither painful nor unpleasant—rather, it felt like something foreign yet familiar was embedding itself deep into his consciousness. The air crackled with residual energy before settling into stillness.

A system notification popped up before his eyes:

Congratulations! You have learned the skill ‘Far and Wide’.

Luke barely glanced at the message before snatching up the second scroll with a mix of greed and excitement, as if afraid someone might swoop in and take it from him. Without hesitation, he activated it just as he had the first.

This time, the reaction was even more intense. The scroll disintegrated into golden motes of light that wrapped around his legs, sending a brief but powerful tingling sensation coursing through his muscles. His calves tensed instinctively as if preparing for a leap, and then the energy seeped into his very being.

Another notification followed:

Congratulations! You have learned the skill ‘Leap’.

Luke finally took a breath, his fingers twitching slightly from the lingering effects of the skill acquisition. Eager to know more, he opened his status window to check the details of his new abilities.

Skill: Far and Wide (Level 1)

Effect: Enhances the user's visual prowess, allowing them to see farther than the average person. Grants the ability to zoom in on distant objects with precision, adjusting focus at will.

Cooldown: 2 minutes

(As skill proficiency increases, cooldown and mental strain decrease, and the range of vision enhancement expands.)

Skill: Leap (Level 1)

Effect: The user's next jump propels them up to 3 meters into the air, significantly enhancing mobility and evasiveness.

Cooldown: 10 minutes

(As skill proficiency increases, jump height increases and cooldown decreases.)

Luke let out a deep, satisfied exhale, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face. One skill was reconnaissance-based, a huge advantage in battle and exploration, while the other was a movement skill—perhaps even rarer and more valuable. Though he hadn’t received any combat abilities, he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. These fit perfectly into his arsenal.

I already have two combat skills, anyway. His grin widened. And a Gunner’s main damage source comes from shooting anyways.

Needless to say, he was extremely satisfied by Garhan's gift.

Still riding high on his excitement, Luke threw on a casual shirt and decided to head out for a jog. The sky outside was still tinged with the gentle hues of early morning—around 7 a.m. He figured it was the perfect time to stretch his legs.

Descending the grand staircase leading to the lounge, Luke’s gaze landed on a solitary figure seated in one of the opulent armchairs. A thick book rested in his hands, its pages flipping methodically.

It was Lorian, the Canthros dorm supervisor.

Every time the man turned a page, his well-built biceps flexed subtly, betraying the strength beneath his composed exterior. His sharp, calculating eyes briefly lifted from the text, meeting Luke’s gaze for the shortest moment before returning to his reading, disinterested in small talk.

Luke gave a respectful nod, receiving no acknowledgment in return. Not that he minded. He wasn’t looking for a conversation, either.

The lounge itself was pristine and untouched, with lavish furnishings. Luke moved past without a word, heading toward the exit. His sneakers squeaked softly against the polished marble floor, the only sound accompanying the quiet morning.

The moment he stepped outside, the fresh morning air greeted him, carrying the crisp scent of blooming flowers. The academy gardens stretched before him in immaculate perfection—lush green lawns meticulously maintained, flower beds bursting with color, and towering trees swaying gently in the morning breeze. It was a scene of tranquil elegance, a testament to the institution’s dedication to both aesthetics and discipline.

Luke set off at a steady pace, his strides relaxed yet purposeful. He had always appreciated a good morning jog, and in a place like this, it felt almost therapeutic. The air was rich with floral fragrances, the damp earth adding a grounding, earthy note. The entire setting was like a living masterpiece, a harmonious blend of nature’s beauty and human craftsmanship.

An hour later, he returned to the dorm, his body warm from exertion but his mind sharper than ever. Just as he was about to step inside, a familiar chime rang in his ears, followed by a holographic notification appearing before him.

A New Quest has been issued:

Pass the first mock test with a B or above grade.

Failure Penalty: None

Reward: +2 Dexterity, Magic Infused Lead Balls (x6)

Luke’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and then, before he could help himself, a burst of laughter escaped his lips.

Damn, this might just be my lucky day.

Everything seemed to be going his way—new skills, a promising quest, and now even a chance to earn Magic Bullets. The words alone were enough to make his heart race. He had no idea just how powerful these enchanted lead balls would be, but anything with ‘magic’ in its name had to be better than the standard ammunition he had been using so far.

Muttering “Magic Bullets” under his breath with growing anticipation, Luke turned back toward his room. He had a few priorities to handle before tackling whatever this mock test entailed.

First order of business? A much-needed shower.

I stink, he thought with a smirk.

After a refreshing bath, Luke donned the academy’s official suit—a deep navy ensemble tailored to perfection. A golden logo adorned the left breast pocket, the initials ‘BG’ entwined with arcane symbols. It was a statement of prestige, a blend of academic excellence and magical prowess.

Studying his reflection in the mirror, Luke gave an approving nod.

Not bad. This world’s sense of style actually suits me.

The dorm's dining area was a spacious hall with high ceilings and ornate chandeliers, their soft glow casting a warm ambiance over the room. Long tables stretched across the hall in neat rows, each adorned with pristine white tablecloths. At one end, a lavish buffet presented a feast fit for royalty, offering a variety of dishes that catered to the diverse student body. Aromas of freshly baked bread, sizzling meats, and exotic spices wafted through the air, tempting even the most disciplined of students.

Luke filled his plate with a generous portion of food and took a seat, savoring each bite as he mulled over the day ahead. The academy, his first class, and the mock test—it was going to be an eventful day. Around him, conversations buzzed as students excitedly discussed their expectations. Some were nervous, while others brimmed with confidence. He couldn't help but eavesdrop on snippets of their discussions, catching words like "combat trials," "ranking board," and "elite houses."

At precisely noon, a sleek tram arrived, its metallic surface gleaming under the midday sun. The students boarded swiftly, the vehicle gliding smoothly across the immaculate academy grounds. Within minutes, they arrived at the main building, a colossal structure that looked like a medieval castle had collided with a futuristic metropolis. Gothic spires reached skyward, their ancient architecture blending seamlessly with massive glass facades reflecting the bright blue sky. The academy grounds themselves were immaculate, featuring lush green courtyards, towering statues of historical figures, and intricate runes embedded in the pathways that glowed faintly under the sunlight.

Upon entering, they were led to a grand auditorium. The vaulted ceiling soared overhead, adorned with intricate murals depicting legendary battles and ancient magical rites. The seating arrangement was a marvel in itself—semi-circular rows of chairs varied in size and shape, designed to accommodate the academy’s diverse student body. Large cushioned seats catered to bulkier races, while sleek, low-profile chairs fit smaller beings. The inclusivity was a testament to Berch Gyara’s reputation. The walls hummed with latent magic, their structure reinforcing the protective barriers that shielded the academy from external threats.

The inauguration program, however, was as dull as watching paint dry. Luke barely paid attention, his mind already skimming through the information available on his wristband. When it finally ended, he exhaled in relief, stretching his arms. Some students looked just as bored as he did, while others took diligent notes. A few professors observed them from an elevated platform, their expressions unreadable.

Finding his classroom, he was once again struck by its sheer size. The seating arrangements were even more varied than in the auditorium, hinting at the broad spectrum of races in his class. As he scanned the room, he spotted some familiar faces—Roy, deep in conversation with a group of students, Jasmine, nervously shifting in her seat, her eyes scanning the room for familiarity, and Damian, who upon making eye contact, smirked and gave a knowing wave. His eyes curved mischievously, as if he was already scheming something.

Luke also noticed the 'commotion-orc' from yesterday, slumped in his seat, face buried in his palm, clearly exasperated. Lastly, the silver-haired beauty from before was holding court among a group of girls, maintaining a prideful air as she spoke animatedly. She hadn't noticed him yet, and he wasn't about to interrupt her conversation. The classroom buzzed with energy, students sizing each other up, forming alliances, or simply observing their surroundings. The tension was almost palpable—some were eager to prove themselves, while others were wary of what lay ahead.

Taking a seat, he barely had time to settle in before the door swung open. A man in his late twenties walked in, exuding an effortless authority. His dark gray hair was neatly combed back, and a pair of stylish glasses perched on his nose.

"Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Professor Elric Voss, and I'll be your homeroom instructor for the year." His voice carried both confidence and approachability, a rare mix. The room fell silent, all attention now on him.

Luke couldn't help but sigh internally. Is there no one in this world who isn’t ridiculously good-looking? He was starting to feel robbed of one of his few redeeming traits. Back on Earth, his face and silver tongue had done wonders, but here? He was just another face in a crowd of impossibly attractive people such as Alice, Damian and now professor Elric.

Professor Voss projected the curriculum onto the holographic screen. "For the first year, we will focus on theory and practical applications. Theory takes a backseat afterward. There are two major exams, numerous mock tests, and practical evaluations. If you’re not sponsored, this is your year to prove your worth and start earning sils."

Luke listened intently, occasionally glancing at others, who seemed just as engrossed. The financial structure of the academy was becoming clearer. Sponsored students like himself had an undeniable advantage, not just in resources but in the academy’s social hierarchy.

"As for today," Elric continued, "we’ll start with ‘Magic and Its Applications.’ An overview, so as not to overwhelm you."

Elric’s lecture was unexpectedly engaging. His dynamic tone emphasized key points, making it easy to follow along. Some concepts were familiar, but others—like 'magic gathering systems' and methods to enhance mana—were entirely new to Luke. The mention of elixirs, fruits, and mana crystals that could accelerate magical growth particularly caught his attention. Shortcuts, yes, but dangerous if misused. He made mental notes to research further—every advantage counted in this world.

The class concluded, leaving many of the Earth students fascinated. In contrast, the natives of Eldoria, and the other races candidates, including the orcs, seemed unimpressed, already familiar with the basics.

"Lunch break, everyone. Good luck, and see you soon," Elric said, exiting the room as murmurs of conversation spread through the class.

Just as Luke prepared to leave, a poke on his arm made him turn. The culprit was a smirking young man sitting beside him, his expression dripping with amusement.

"Hey, aren't you the guy with the trash stats that got a high sponsorship?" His voice was loud enough to draw attention.

Luke blinked, then let a slow, knowing smile creep across his face. Ah, the first idiot of the normal academic year. He had already caught the murmurs and side-glances, students trying to confirm whether he was the infamous Luke.

"Seems like my stats are interesting enough to get people talking," he replied, his tone deliberately casual. "Guess I am a bit famous, huh?"

The smug guy's smile faltered slightly, not expecting such a relaxed response. "You call that being famous? You’re more like a circus clown."

Luke chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Well, every clown needs a circus. Glad to see you front and center."

A ripple of laughter spread through the class, and the guy’s face turned an amusing shade of red.

Luke stood up, flashing a dismissive smile. "If you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than entertain jesters."

With that, he strolled out of the room, unfazed and victorious.

The academy’s canteen was just as grand as the rest of the campus, with vaulted ceilings and rows of tables bustling with students. Various food stations lined the walls, offering an array of dishes tailored to different species.

Luke grabbed a tray, filled it with an assortment of food, and found an empty table. Just as he was about to take his first bite, a shadow loomed over him. Looking up, he found Jasmine, the hazel-haired girl who had looked so nervous earlier.

She hesitated, then sat across from him.

Luke raised an eyebrow, momentarily surprised. "Jasmine, right? Didn't expect to share my first meal here with company. To what do I owe the pleasure?"