The Very First Class
Monk Myeongho sank into deep anguish.
Primordial Heavenly Worthy… How in the world has that child developed a taste for such perilous mischief before the semester has even begun?
Worrying about Orknodi's future, he had kept a discreet eye on her to ensure she was adjusting well to academy life—only to end up bearing witness to a full-blown crime spree.
Trespassing into a security guard post.
Scouting infiltration routes across the exterior walls of the freshman dormitory.
Breaking and entering into the dorm warden's personal quarters.
She had even plunged straight into the earthen burrows excavated by the guard hounds, lying in wait before slipping back out.
No matter how desperately he wished to shield the girl, this had crossed every conceivable line. Distressed, Monk Myeongho sought out the Headmaster to report everything he had witnessed and plead for guidance on how to handle the situation.
“You claim the fledgling from the Weihimhai Foundation is running completely amok?” the Headmaster's deep voice resonated.
“I regret to say that is precisely what I observed with my own eyes.”
For the child's own future, such reckless conduct had to be stamped out as swiftly as possible. Whatever dark directives she had received from the Foundation, from an outside perspective, her behavior looked indistinguishable from an assassin conducting preliminary reconnaissance on an operational target zone.
“The little whelp possesses quite the insolent nerve.”
Did she even realize the wrongfulness of her deeds? Her knack for scurrying unseen like a field mouse was nothing short of extraordinary. Neither the sentries nor the dormitory warden had noticed that the precious Ability Stones they enshrined like sacred ancestral tablets within their own living quarters had been swiped clean under their very noses. Slipping past magical barriers and patrols with such fluid deceit was a spectacle so absurd that it elicited an involuntary chuckle.
“If this realm ever produces a grand thief beneath the heavens, the title surely belongs to that brat!”
“Headmaster, please do not simply marvel at her antics—help me guide her back to the righteous path!”
“Does the Buddha you revere claim that child is treading a wicked road?”
“The Five Precepts of Buddhism explicitly forbid theft. It is a completely futile act that betrays the most foundational trust of human society.”
“What she stole was neither the security outpost's mana pass nor the warden's master keys. It was a mere stone.”
“This humble monk has no desire to see a thief of stones graduate into a thief of lives.”
Had she been an eccentric rogue stealing mundane pebbles, Myeongho would never have paid her such close scrutiny. But the Headmaster recognized immediately that the rock Orknodi stole was no ordinary mineral; it was an Ability Stone. The captain of the guard and the freshman warden had only enshrined it because their raw warrior instincts vaguely picked up on the extraordinary energy coiled within, yet she had identified its true worth at a single glance and plucked it clean. Her eye was just as brazen as her nimble hands and feet. Calling her a future master thief was hardly an empty jest.
“If you are so concerned, watch over her and instruct her well,” the Headmaster decreed. “She is an unpolished gem of talent far too magnificent for the Weihimhai Foundation to harbor.”
“Then… you see exceptional promise in Orknodi as well?”
“Had I been that sly old snake running the Foundation, I never would have allowed that child to set foot in my territory. She is timber of such caliber that losing her to another would leave him pounding the earth in bitter regret for a hundred years.”
Monk Myeongho caught the chilling undercurrent beneath those words. “Does Orknodi possess a talent unknown even to the Chairman of the Foundation?”
“Indeed. So hold her fast in your grasp and take care not to let her slip away. For should that child ever return to the Foundation's embrace, I fully intend to slaughter her with my own two claws.”
“……!”
The Group B valedictorian blessed by the stars was undeniably intriguing. But the Group A valedictorian, gifted with the sovereign eye of spirituality, inspired far more dread than curiosity. Naturally, no matter the nature of a gift, its ultimate application varied wildly depending on the caliber of the mentor guiding it. By commanding Monk Myeongho to keep Orknodi from going astray, the Headmaster had effectively entrusted her very life and death into his keeping. For the child's sake, the monk resolved to fulfill his sacred duty as a master destined to steer a straying soul back to the light.
A penalty of -10,000 Points has been levied against examinee Orknodi for unauthorized entry into restricted zones.
After all, the swiftest way to correct a child's bad habits was to ensure forbidden deeds carried immediate, painful consequences.
Ah. Busted already?
I thought I had been pretty meticulous with my Detection and Scouting routines. I had cleanly bypassed the perimeter surveillance spells and slipped right past the guards' sightlines, which meant some high-tier entity far beyond my pay grade must have flagged me from the shadows. Whether they pieced together the trail after the fact or caught me mid-heist, the realization sent chills straight down my spine.
Instead of halting me on the spot after seeing right through my route, they simply sat back, enjoyed the free floor show, and dropped a point-penalty bomb right on my head like an amused audience tossing rotten tomatoes!
Wait… why did they only dock ten thousand points?
Did they let me off easy because it was my first offense? Well, whatever. A win was a win.
“Orknodi! The entrance ceremony is over, so we need to head to our first lecture. Now isn't the time to be spacing out.”
“Ah! Coming right now, Isabelle-unnie!”
First year, first semester. Our glorious introductory period kicked off with tracked classes segregated by qualification rank.
“The Upper Class lecture hall is right through here.”
While the standard tiers capped their classrooms at roughly fifty students pooled from mixed origins, the Upper Class crammed every single elite qualifier from all three entrance tracks into a single room.
◈ Group A Qualifiers:17 Students
◈ Group B Qualifiers:22 Students
◈ Group C Qualifiers:5 Students
Total Enrollment: 44 Students
Out of tens of millions of preliminary ticket examinees and hundreds of thousands of live entrance trial candidates, only a few thousand survived to secure admission to Gift Academy. And from that vast sea of survivors, merely forty-four individuals were granted entry into the Upper Class. Stepping through the doorway, I found the room packed with familiar faces.
“You're late. I took the liberty of saving your seat.”
“Wahahaha! Look at that! Even our fearless little pipsqueak gets stage fright like a real kid once in a while! Glancing around all timid and shy, are we?”
Giselle and Son Ocheon held court together in the very back row. Much like chronic delinquents who claim the rearmost desks as their sacred birthright, the corner fit them with uncanny perfection.
As I made my way toward the back, the Upper Class peers already settled in their seats locked their gazes onto me from every direction.
“Fufu. Even flustered, our little Di is simply charming.”
“Please don't tease me, Arcadia.”
There sat Arcadia—the lone flower of the Western Aristocrat Alliance's inner circle and the undisputed spiritual pillar of Group A's female student body.
“So you have finally arrived, child of the Foundation who knows suspiciously far too much.”
“Could you please stop addressing me like some bizarre cryptid? I'm an ordinary freshman just like the rest of you.”
“Indeed. If one takes an excessively broad taxonomy, an abyssal narwhal drifting through the lightless depths and a human being could both technically be classified as animals.”
“……”
That was Young Duke Andersen, the number-one ranked scion of the Western Aristocrat Alliance and de facto commander of Group A's male contingent—a man whose personal suspicion gauge had permanently redlined after I flaunted my meta-knowledge of the group dynamics just once.
“Hey there, shrimp.”
“Good morning, Pirate-unnie.”
“Hey now! Didn't I tell you to call me Big Sis?”
By the window, the privateer Jigoku offered a jaunty wave while twirling a revolver around his finger.
“Good morning!”
“…Hello.”
Further forward, Irene, the Grand Duchess's daughter from the North, caught my eye and offered a clipped, subtle nod of acknowledgment.
“……”
“……”
“……”
Meanwhile, the Eastern swordsman Sing sat with one foot hauled onto his chair and his eyes closed, utterly unconcerned with whoever entered, preserving his pristine internal tranquility.
“Morning! Looks like we'll be getting cozy every single day from now on!”
“I'd really prefer if we didn't.”
“So heartless~!”
Beside her seat, the masked assassin Zhuang held her hands to the sides of her mask, wiggling her fingers like drooping rabbit ears in mock despair.
“She's so adorable, nya! I just want to take a massive bite out of her, nyaaa!”
Watching Zhuang's antics, the feline beastperson Jenya stomped her paws in squealing delight. And right next to her sat Hestia, her eyes fixed on me with an inexplicable, burning anticipation.
“Good morning, Hestia.”
“Y-Yeah! Morning!!”
Her massive bicep gave an involuntary tremor as she pumped her fist with a hushed, triumphant Yes! Whatever was going through her head, she looked absurdly thrilled.
The rest of the Upper Class was a patchwork of temperaments. Very welcoming, mildly amused, or coldly indifferent—that was the prevailing climate among the Group A crowd. In stark contrast, the Group B qualifiers appraised me with stares ranging from clinical detachment to simmering hostility, with quite a few dipping straight into venomous malice. A frigid tension hung beneath the boisterous morning chatter, as though an unsheathed blade lay resting right between our desks, refusing to let our guard slip for a second.
“What do you think? Can you sense it from her as well?”
“I cannot be certain. That child has received none of the divine blessings from the Twelve Deities I recognize.”
Near the center of the hall where the Group B students congregated, the Saintess and the female Hero sat conversing in low whispers. The Hero was the valedictorian of Group B and the canonical protagonist of the original story—a bona fide Tier-0 broken character who stood as the centerpiece of the narrative. In repeat playthroughs, she was the single most expensive playable unit a player could unlock, boasting stats and performance that warped game balance around her very presence. Her inseparable companion, the Saintess, was an equally broken top-tier support. Hearing the two apex powerhouses of the 981st cohort dissecting my credentials naturally made my ears perk up.
“If she hasn't received a divine blessing, then surely she can't be the monstrous genius the rumors make her out to be, right?”
“A divine blessing merely signifies an aptitude suitable for channeling that specific god's authority. It means nothing more than catching a deity's fancy. History is brimming with peerless prodigies who were never chosen by the heavens.”
“That sounds remarkably blasphemous coming from the mouth of our holy Saintess.”
“The gods despise vessels that do not align with their nature. Furthermore… simply because she lacks a blessing from the Twelve Deities does not mean she walks without divine favor entirely.”
“Wait, seriously? Then… could she be a champion chosen by an entity like that, or perhaps them?”
“Indeed. If there exists a higher power whose wavelength resonates with hers, her growth trajectory will outstrip even those blessed by the Twelve Deities by leagues. Though it appears the child herself remains completely oblivious to that fact.”
Their fascinating speculation was abruptly cut short as the class bell chimed and the instructor slid open the lecture hall door.
Slide—
The professor striding into the room to command the very first lecture of the 981st cohort's Upper Class was, staggering as it seemed—
“Gah?!”
“E-Everyone shut your traps! Our points will be annihilated!”
“Hic! …Hic!”
The colossal Dragon Principal himself!
“—is what I would say! How was my impression of the Headmaster? Sounded remarkably authentic, didn't it? Haha.”
…Or rather, a master shapeshifter capable of replicating his terrifying roar down to the exact timbre.
“I am Professor Mahabharata, the First-Year Head of Year tasked with managing your cohort from this day forth. I instruct the Transformation Arts curriculum, and I also serve as the Dragon Guardian attending to our esteemed Headmaster.”
“……”
A rotten shapeshifter had arrived, tailor-made to serve a rotten dragon.
“Today, you will receive an orientation regarding the course offerings you will be studying throughout your upcoming academic year. Once course registration concludes, today's curriculum will be complete.”
The academy operated far closer to a university than a high school. The dreaded registration battle was already upon us.
“For your reference, you may review the registration listings via your pocket mana watches. However, securing a seat requires you to run on your own two feet and physically present yourself at the lecture hall of the professor whose course you wish to attend.”
Strictly first come, first served.