“Can I sit here?” the nervous Jasmine asked politely, making Luke chuckle as he said teasingly, “You don’t ask that after sitting first.”

Jasmine seemed embarrassed as her body visibly fidgeted before her head slumped.

“Don’t sweat it,” Luke said in a kind tone. She reminded him of his friend’s sister, and his brotherly instincts couldn’t help but make him tease her. Now seeing her embarrassed, he felt a bit bad, “So, why are you sitting here? Did you not make any friends yet?”

“I don’t see anyone sitting with you,” Jasmine said meekly in an attempt to protest, “How can I even make friends in such a situation?”

The corner of her eyes visibly filled with tears as she said, “How can you remain so calm in this situation? We have suddenly been thrown away from our world, our family, our life into this world,” It felt like she had a lot of complaints swelled up within her and wanted an outlet to let it all go.

But she immediately composed herself as she realized they were sitting in the canteen. People were passing by them and could hear her, “I’m sorry, I’ll just find another seat,” she picked up her food tray and was about to leave as Luke’s warm voice rang out, “It’s fine, stay seated here.”

Jasmine’s beautiful brown eyes shook for a moment as she decided to sit down again. For minutes, none of them said a word as both ate their lunch in silence. As Luke’s hands kept moving from his plate to his mouth, he said without looking up, “I’m not calm or anything. I’m just as baffled and anxious as you are about this whole situation,” his head finally moved up, and his crystalline blue eyes locked with Jasmine’s, making her almost lose track of her thoughts at his somber face that looked as out of this world as this whole situation, “I just don’t want to make myself seem weak in front of anyone here.”

As Luke kept staring right into her eyes sincerely, her heart fluttered as she ignored his gaze, a bit embarrassed. After a while, her hands naturally reached towards the hair that was coming to her eyes, making her tuck it behind her ears.

After a momentary silence, her lips moved again, “Still, don’t you miss anyone? I can’t help but keep thinking about my mother and sister. They must be so worried,” her eyebrows creased.

After a momentary wait, Luke started eating again as he flatly said, “I don’t have anyone like that. I’m an orphan.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” Jasmine’s eyes widened in surprise as her hands reached her agape mouth. Her heart felt conflicted as her eyes stared down at Luke.

“Don’t worry about it,” Luke said as he put his fork down, “Then let’s go back to the class. Lunchtime should be over soon.”

Jasmine immediately looked at the wristband instinctually and realized Luke was right. She didn’t know when time passed by so quickly so she immediately stood up. Her plate still had food remaining. She felt bad about not finishing up her food, but there was not much time left so she went ahead and put the plate on the counter and walked back to Luke.

Luke looked at her momentarily before he chuckled inwardly, walking back towards the classroom.

As Luke and Jasmine re-entered the classroom and took their seats, the atmosphere shifted almost immediately. The door creaked open to reveal a man who was the antithesis of Professor Elric Voss. This new figure was gaunt, his face etched with lines that suggested he rarely, if ever, smiled. His eyes were like shards of ice, and the aura he exuded was one of stern, unyielding severity.

"Good afternoon, students," he began, his voice devoid of warmth. "I am Professor Yorth Vale, and I will be your guide in the Study of Practical Combat."

The room fell into a hushed silence, each student absorbing the weight of his words. The atmosphere grew dense as if the air itself had thickened.

"Your theory classes," Professor Vale continued, "are but stepping stones. The true essence of your education here will be practical in nature. Prepare yourselves. We will proceed to the academy training grounds for an immediate mock test. The test will be to subdue a wild beast."

A ripple of shock spread through the room. Jasmine looked toward Luke, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of disbelief and apprehension. Luke, ever the picture of calm, kept his gaze fixed on Professor Vale, his face betraying no emotion.

So, the system really can give me advance warnings, huh? Luke mused, recalling the quest notification he had received earlier. The system had seemed like a glorified pyramid scheme at first, but it was proving more useful than expected.

The practical mock test was rather unconventional, but it was also a vivid reminder that this academy wasn’t a literature haven like the colleges on Earth.

The Earth-dwellers in the room, who had never so much as thrown a punch in a regulated setting, were visibly shaken. Their faces were canvases of dread, each one contemplating the gravity of being thrust into combat with wild beasts.

Even the Eldorian nobles, who had been groomed in combat arts from a young age, were not immune to the tension. Their hands twitched nervously, some fumbling with their wristbands, others gripping the edges of their desks. The training was one thing; facing a live, potentially lethal creature was entirely another.

In stark contrast, the orcs in the room seemed to come alive. Their eyes sparkled with a ferocious kind of joy, and their knuckles cracked audibly as they clenched and unclenched their fists. For them, this was not a test but a long-awaited opportunity, a chance to demonstrate their prowess.

As the students began to rise from their seats and follow the professor out of the class, Jasmine naturally made her way towards Luke as she started walking beside him.

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she leaned slightly toward Luke. "Is this really happening?"

Luke finally looked at her. "Seems so." His lips curled into a wry smirk. "Looks like we’re in for an unconventional education."

Casually, he brought up her status window.

Jasmine Lakeshore

Alignment: Good (Extreme)

Class: Holy Maiden

Title: None

Specialty: Divine Halo (Passive)

Skills: Heal (Lvl 3)| To the Hurt (Passive) (Lvl 1) | Holy Blessing (Lvl 2) | Holy Shield (Lvl 1)

Strength: 8 | Agility: 11 | Intelligence: 20 | Divinity: 27 | Luck: 2 | Wisdom: 7

Overall rating: Genius

'What in the world?!'

Luke almost did a double take. Already? She had improved so much in such a short time. Not only had she gained new skills, but her Heal ability had already reached level three.

Talent, huh? He clicked his tongue as he glanced at the anxious girl walking beside him. It looks like her sponsor is spoiling her. Compared to her progress, my improvements feel... lacking. Luke was still plenty satisfied with his own improvements.

The students made their way to the training grounds, an expansive facility situated away from the main academy building, designated specifically for first-year students. The grounds were equipped with an array of training apparatuses, from archery targets to combat dummies, and an assortment of weapons neatly arranged on racks. It was a testament to the academy's commitment to practical education.

Professor Yorth Vale stood at the center of the facility, his imposing figure radiating authority. His sharp eyes scanned the gathered students before he spoke, his voice firm and unwavering. "This mock test is designed to assess your survivability skills against beasts," he announced, gesturing toward a section of the grounds partitioned by large transparent glass rooms. "You will select your weapons from that section," he continued, motioning toward an area lined with various weapons. "You may use your personal weapons, provided they are of the common rank."

Luke exhaled softly, relieved by the restriction. One glance at the academy-issued firearms confirmed his suspicion—most were poorly maintained, their reliability questionable at best. His hand instinctively brushed over the three guns in his holster. Two were common-rank, specifically brought for situations like these, while the third was his prized rare-rank pistol, a weapon he couldn’t use in this assessment.

Yorth’s next words sent a chill through the gathered students. "Do not worry excessively about injuries. We have healers on standby, capable of restoring even severed limbs."

Uneasy glances were exchanged. The tension in the air was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers ahead. Even the typically unshaken Luke felt a flicker of anticipation, though he masked it well. His eyes briefly met Jasmine's—she looked like a deer caught in headlights, her hands clenched into tight fists.

The first five students were called forward to select their weapons. Once armed, they stepped into one of the glass-enclosed battle rooms, their anxiety evident in their stiff postures.

Among them was Grukthar, the hulking orc who had made quite the impression on the first day. He hefted a massive double-headed axe, its edges gleaming menacingly under the artificial lights. His four companions—three boys and a girl—clutched an assortment of swords, daggers, and staves, though their unsteady grips betrayed their lack of confidence.

At the far end of the glass room, a cage door creaked open. A guttural screech reverberated through the chamber as a creature slithered forward. The Thornback Wyrm was a grotesque amalgamation of muscle, scales, and jagged spikes. Its blue chitinous armor shimmered ominously under the lights, while venomous fangs protruded from its gaping maw. Though the creature was wounded, glowing magical restraints encircled its form, limiting its full range of motion.

Professor Vale's voice resonated through the training grounds, ensuring all could hear. "This is a Thornback Wyrm. Normally a low-rank beast, but even wounded and restrained, it is not to be underestimated. Its primary weakness is the underbelly—less protected by its armor. Your task is to subdue it by any means necessary."

The creature let out another unearthly screech. The students froze. One dropped his weapon, the clatter ringing through the chamber. Another stumbled backward, falling onto his hands. Terror gripped them.

All except Grukthar.

With a feral grin, the orc charged, his axe raised high. The Thornback Wyrm lunged at him, its fangs aimed straight for his throat. But Grukthar was faster. He sidestepped the attack with surprising agility and brought his axe down in a brutal arc, burying it deep into the creature’s exposed underbelly. A sickening squelch accompanied the impact, followed by the Wyrm’s agonized screech.

Grukthar didn’t hesitate. With a grunt, he wrenched the axe free and swung again, this time aiming for the beast’s skull. The blade connected with a bone-crunching impact, silencing the creature for good. As its body went limp, the magical restraints pulsed, ensuring it was fully subdued.

A smirk tugged at the orc’s lips as he turned to the trembling students behind him. "Weaklings," he muttered before striding out, his axe resting casually against his shoulder.

Outside, Jasmine flinched at the final screech of the Wyrm. Luke, meanwhile, remained composed, though inwardly he acknowledged the stark difference in combat experience among the students. Grukthar’s raw power and skill were undeniable.

"How unfair," Luke mused inwardly but knew complaining was pointless.

After Grukthar’s spectacle, more groups entered the glass rooms, each facing their own wounded beasts. Some succeeded, albeit clumsily, while others barely scraped through. Only one other student stood out—a female elf whose swordsmanship was precise and deadly, dispatching her opponent with elegant efficiency.

Then, finally, it was Luke’s turn.

He eyed his assigned teammates and barely concealed his irritation. Among them was the same noble who had sneered at him in the class, the one who had called him "trash." Their eyes met, and the noble smirked, clearly relishing the opportunity to humiliate him.

Luke ignored him. Instead, he pulled out his normal-rank pistols, methodically loading them with practiced ease. Then, without hesitation, he approached Professor Vale and retrieved his rare-rank pistol from his holster.

"This is a rare-rank weapon. Since we’re only allowed to use common-rank equipment, I’d like to hand it over for safekeeping," Luke stated, his voice calm and even.

Yorth’s expression flickered, momentarily caught off guard. Many students, particularly nobles, would undoubtedly try to circumvent the rule by using their personal uncommon-rank weapons. But what truly surprised him wasn’t Luke’s honesty—it was the gun itself. The pistol gleamed with navy blue streaks of light pulsing through its sleek frame. Exquisite craftsmanship. Rare-rank equipments were exceedingly uncommon; even the wealthiest noble students likely only had uncommon weapons at best. Yorth had never even seen a rare ranked firearm.

Just who was this boy?

Yorth took the pistol, weighing it in his hand before nodding. "A gun user," he murmured. "It has been a while since I’ve seen someone use firearms." He met Luke’s gaze, his interest piqued. "Very well. Go back and prepare to enter."

As Luke returned to his group, the noble’s smirk had vanished, replaced by barely concealed annoyance. Luke simply holstered his normal pistols and checked his ammunition one last time.

As the party of five entered the glass room, a deafening roar shook the air, making the very ground beneath them tremble. The source of the noise stood at the far end of the room—a massive beast unlike any they had ever seen. A wolf, thrice the size of a normal one, its midnight-blue fur streaked with silver. Fiery orange eyes burned with feral intensity, saliva dripping from its elongated fangs. Despite the deep gashes marring its form, it radiated raw, primal power.

Professor Vale's voice sliced through the tension, "This is a Silvermane Wolf. A low-tier magic beast known for its agility and the brutal strength of its jaw. Its hide is thick, resistant to most physical attacks. However, its forehead is its weak point. Aim your attacks there if you wish to subdue it."

Luke’s heart pounded against his ribs. His fingers twitched around the grip of his pistol. He had trained extensively in Garhan's estate, refining his aim against stationary targets, but nothing had prepared him for this—a living, breathing, and very much enraged monster. His legs felt leaden, unwilling to move as cold sweat trickled down his back.

“Three… Two… One… Go!” Vale’s command rang out.

With a metallic clank, the glass gate restraining the Silvermane Wolf lifted. The beast wasted no time. With a powerful leap, it lunged towards the group, its murderous growl filling the air. Two students collapsed in sheer terror, their weapons clattering uselessly to the floor. The wolf ignored Luke entirely, targeting the downed students. A massive paw slammed down on one, blood pooling instantly as a scream of agony pierced the air.

Luke's breath hitched. His grip on the pistol tightened, but his body refused to move.