Oracle Dorm: The Dropouts' Cabins

The academy's uniforms differ by dorm. The robes worn over them are identical in design, varying only in color to match each dorm's symbolic hue, but the uniforms underneath are completely different—even in style. They strongly evoke the image of their respective dorms.

Tempest sports a suit-style uniform in bold red and white tones. Guys wear a dress shirt with tie, vest, blazer, and trousers; girls swap the tie for a ribbon and trousers for a skirt.

It's remarkably similar to real-world middle or high school uniforms—though far more refined, of course. The vibrant colors give it a flashy vibe.

Ibis goes casual: crewneck sweatshirt and jeans for guys, hoodie and skirt for girls. It barely feels like a uniform—more like everyday streetwear.

With its sky-blue palette, just looking at it feels relaxing. For a dorm themed around scholars, it's a bit half-hearted in design. But it's overwhelmingly comfortable compared to the others, earning plenty of envy.

Drake has a stiff military cadet uniform, complete with epaulets and insignia ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tabs. It's the only dorm with a hat included.

The gray-based ensemble comes with a cape accented in red. Though few wear the cape daily, it contrasts sharply with Ibis—looking uncomfortable just to behold.

Finally, my dorm, Oracle, has no uniform at all. So most Oracle students just use their robes as substitutes. What can I say? Even here, the discrimination is blatant. These visible disparities are what shape each dorm's image.

Once dorms were assigned, the supervisors began gathering their students—to distribute uniforms, explain rules, and get faces familiar for the next six years.

"All Oracle students, gather here."

Yerina, the Oracle supervisor in her white mask, called us over. The assembled Oracle kids exchanged awkward glances, gloom hanging over their faces. A far cry from the lively chatter in other dorms.

As I mentioned, the common view of Oracle is the dumping ground for rejects. Most here were middling dropouts, so even the dorm orientation kicked off with funeral faces instead of smiles.

"Oracle has no uniforms aside from the robes. Come forward one by one to receive your robe and student handbook. The robes are generously sized, so no worries about fit. Once you have yours, wait outside."

Seemingly used to this vibe, Yerina guided us with a detached tone. Students shuffled up to collect their robes. I joined the line.

Once everyone had their robes, Yerina moved to where we'd gathered. All eyes turned to her.

"Please check your student handbooks. These will prove invaluable throughout your six years at the academy."

I flipped open the brownish handbook. Blank pages. But with a light snap of Yerina's fingers, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brown ink began etching words onto it.

"It doubles as ID to prove you're an academy student. You can check demerits, merits, the academy map, rules, and more right here."

It's like a convenient smartphone. Best not to lose it—replacements involve a hassle.

"You probably know this already, but I'll briefly explain the academy. We're divided into two main departments: the Magic Department and the Martial Department."

Magic trains wizards; Martial produces swordsmen, fist fighters, spearmen—melee combatants. Roughly equal ratios.

Dorms aren't split by department, so roommates might differ entirely. For reference, I'm in Martial.

"Each department has specialized courses. Check your handbook for details. You should know your department and course by now—if not, look it up."

Students flipped open their handbooks to confirm. No one would forget their own assignment; this was just double-checking.

"Then, let's head to the dorm."

Time to see our home. Yerina led us north from the academic campus—Oracle's location.

As the dorm came into view, the gloom lifted a bit. The dice had rolled. All they could do now was struggle to prove their worth.

Oracle's rep as the rejects' dorm was real, but it had produced successes too.

"There it is."

Oracle dorm was a cluster of cabins dotting a wide field—like a quaint slash-and-burn village. Rustic designs, but spacious enough for two or three students each.

Tempest: grand castle. Ibis: manor houses per group. Drake: towering building. Us? Tiny cabins.

From the dorms alone, and they preach 'equality' in the academy slogan. Even a stray dog would laugh.

The novel notes auxiliary facilities lag far behind too. Oracle students even cook their own meals.

Tempest: buffet breakfast and dinner. Ibis: free gourmet restaurants everywhere by top chefs. Drake: student-run cafeteria. Oracle: fend for yourselves.

At least roommates are few—we get one cabin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠per two.

"Now, roommate assignments. Check the last page of your handbook."

We pulled them out. Brown ink bloomed on the blank final page—magically randomized pairs. Mine read Axelro.

"Huh. Rooming with the school's most infamous freshman. Good or bad, who knows."

Same as the original. Axelro's a demon from the demon realm—not too different from humans. Shoulder-length black hair gave him a laid-back rockstar slacker vibe.

In this world, demons are basically humans from the demon realm. No horns or wings like true devils.

Axelro's no highborn—just the overlooked third son of a minor noble house. Disowned. Fits Oracle perfectly.

He dies anyway, no need to memorize.

He bites it early volume 3. Maybe a month from now. My condolences in advance.

Thanks to that, I'll have the cabin solo. Hurry up and croak.

I smirked to myself; Axelro eyed me oddly.

"What's so funny? The 20 demerits?"

"Oh, right. Anyway, let's get along for the month... er, six years."

"Dunno how long a human lasts here, but sure—let's make it work while it does."

At least Oracle dropouts have mild personalities. Other dorms? Sky-high egos—they size you up, deem you easy prey, and act like jerks. Oracle rejects know their place and bond accordingly.

"Whoa, Johan! This cabin's got three rooms. One each, and storage left over."

The cabin was rundown but roomy—could fit four if needed.

Private rooms with attached baths. Essentials stocked, including full kitchenware.

Antique villa vibes. Could be fun.

"Which room you want?"

"Mm, I'll take the inner one. Cool?"

Axelro treated human-me casually. If he weren't a guy, maybe I'd let him live longer.

*-*-*

"...That's all. Plenty of promising talents among the freshmen. We'll submit our recruitment list to student council this week."

With the entrance ceremony done, student council business ramped up. For them, it was more crucial than the ceremony—scouting freshmen with talent and solid backing.

"Yeah, but with the gems come the trash."

Scarlett snapped to attention. Everyone knew the 'trash' in question.

"That human?"

The president murmured.

"Yes. Nabbed 20 demerits from the vice principal at the ceremony."

"Pfft! First in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠academy history? Impressive in a twisted way."

"Humans don't fit here anyway. Principal picked him personally... Can't read the intent."

Execs chimed in. Secretary Scarlett meticulously recorded every word.

Johan.

The academy's sole human enrollee in 200 years.

Flowing golden hair like molten gold, emerald eyes, bold features, sharp nose, thick brows exuding strength. His large, confident eyes lingered even when closed.

A stunningly handsome man—the first she'd ever seen speechless purely from looks.

"But damn, he is hot. Can't I just toy with him?"

Scarlett's quill halted mid-note. Too vulgar for the minutes. But that wasn't the only reason.

"Still got that sick hobby? Devouring cute boys and ditching."

"How could I quit? That rush shoving smug idiots off the success cliff... You'd get hooked too."

"Classless."

The talk devolved unbefitting council prestige. Typical—spoiled brats wielding parental power like toys. Scarlett's head spun.

Johan... right.

"Cute cat. Suits you, senpai."

His voice echoed in her mind with a 'zzzzing~'.