Freshman, Possessed (2)
Sacred Academy was divided into five districts. The Academic District housed facilities where cadets studied. The Commercial District brimmed with convenience stores and shops. The Sanctuary District gathered cathedrals worshiping gods and orders of the faithful. The Administrative District oversaw the academy's overall operations. And finally, the untamed Frontier District, still untouched by development.
The academy's grounds defied imagination. Its sheer size dominated the continental map. Not just cadets, but professors, administrative staff, merchants, and pilgrims visiting the Sanctuary District—all called it home. In truth, it functioned less like an educational institution and more like a city, even a nation unto itself. Amid all the converging interests and development, the fact that untouched frontier land still existed was astonishing. Of course, it stemmed not from technical limitations, but religious and administrative hurdles.
That made it a bit taxing for an old man to navigate on foot. But that was the old story. For Cain, now in the prime of youth, it was irrelevant.
"Youth is truly wonderful. My knees don't ache even after walking this much!"
It had been ages since he'd strolled so leisurely. Back then, every trip strained his back or joints, limiting how far he could go. But in this vigorous young body, he felt like he could fly.
Before he knew it, he'd reached his destination.
"This is it."
It was huge. That was his first impression. The academy's everything was grand and oversized, but the training grounds took it to another level. Perhaps because it hosted those who transcended physical limits, it looked sturdier and larger than other facilities.
"Hah, having facilities like this is truly enviable. In Eldrion, we could only dream of it."
The technology and quality matched up fine, but the scale was something rarely seen back home. Educational institutions like this academy seldom received such investment—everyone poured resources into their own families or factions, leaving little for public education.
"If only the perception of magic weren't an issue, I'd genuinely applaud this world."
Cain stepped into the training grounds. As a public venue, not department-exclusive, there were no entry procedures.
He had two reasons for coming. First, obviously, to recruit students. This time of day drew plenty of cadets—not quite Commercial District crowds, but enough. Some trained to hone their skills; others, before classes started, came to sightsee. If even a few showed interest in the Magic Department, that'd be ideal.
Second, and more importantly, to learn about this world's cadets. Recruiting was just the start. For the department's survival and growth, results were essential. Cadets were the department's raison d'être—their progress was the department's progress. An efficient curriculum was key, and that required understanding the students here.
'Kids training this late have real ambition. Watching them should reveal what they need.'
Bonus: promote the Magic Department while at it.
Cain wandered the grounds, observing. The vast space and crowds meant one more spectator went unnoticed.
Amid the cadets' hearty shouts and clashing weapons, Cain thought:
'Impressive level, indeed.'
They might struggle one-on-one against him, but compared to Eldrion's youth, they held their own. Some were genuine talents by his standards.
But...
'No mages, as expected.'
Aura users and miracle wielders abounded, but not a single magic caster. Mages didn't just research or experiment—they specialized in combat too, or at least mastered basic battle spells as fundamentals. To keep the feel sharp, they trained sporadically. Yet here, not one.
He'd known, but the bitterness lingered.
"...Guess I should check other areas."
As Cain moved toward the next grounds, a commotion stirred. Reaching it, he saw two young cadets arguing.
One: a fiery-faced, burly male cadet. The other: a cold-faced, lean male cadet. Like opposites drawn in ink, tension crackled between them.
"This spot's mine. Get lost, twig."
"Doesn't the Hansen family teach first-come, first-served? I was already using it."
"Hah! Twirling that scrawny stick around anyway. Why not hand it over nicely?"
"Amusing. Your brain's devolved below beast level."
"You little— who're you calling that?!"
"Looks like you want your skull split by a stick!"
BAM!
...And they clashed.
Cain's take was simple: "Young blood."
He didn't intervene as they fought fiercely. Prime age for hot tempers—petty squabbles were routine. In Eldrion, youth brawled over trifles; sometimes whole academy buildings flew. For them, it was social rite, especially aura users whose trade was combat. Blindly stopping it wasn't wise.
His focus lay elsewhere: 'That's the miracle cadets use.'
The unprecedented aura around them differed from any other. Another power atop their emitted auras—not aura or mana, but unmistakably miracles, divine holy power.
Yet unlike what he knew: 'Weak.'
No, not weak—faint, diluted.
Their power was holy force, miracle, but thinner than he remembered.
'So that's how they spread miracles everywhere. It's a degraded version of what I know.'
One mystery solved. But not all—diluted or not, mass-producing such power was staggering.
'Miracles—no, those blessed by gods are Blessers.'
And every professor and cadet at Sacred Academy was a Blesser, blessed without exception.
In this world, would any cadet eye the Magic Department? The thought struck Cain.
"....."
The fight intensified. Nearby objects shattered; walls and floors lost shape.
These two were exceptional—no other cadets en route matched them. Top of their generation, likely. If talents like them joined, things would ease—but odds were slim.
Then disaster: a stray blast from their frenzy veered toward two female cadets passing by.
An accident. Injuries imminent.
'Damn.'
With a sigh, Cain moved.
"Slide"
⟨ Acceleration Magic ⟩
His body slid like greased lightning between the attack and the girls.
BOOM!
A casual gesture deflected the cadet's strike. It crashed harmlessly, cratering the ground.
To the stunned cadets, he said calmly:
"You two. Ought to watch your surroundings."
Hot blood was fine, but reckless swings were a nuisance—might need a lecture.
"....Wha.... This isn't..... in the original...."
...Someone muttered oddly behind. Deeply shocked, probably.
*
Jenia, newly enrolled, moved swiftly. She cross-referenced her info with the academy's layout while cataloging major original characters' details.
Easy enough. Most were already famous, drawing public eyes—no one batted an eye at her inquiries.
...Though it earned her warped nicknames like "weird girl stalking guys" or "man-magnet," twisting reality. Still, she grasped their statuses.
'Main guys haven't hit their arcs yet. Maybe connect with two or three subs at best.'
Crude phrasing, but accurate. Saintess's Devout Life was a reverse harem romance fantasy, packed with male leads: steady mains and periodic subs asserting presence. "Heroine candidates" abounded—key to watch, as their moves hinted the world's flow.
But none outshone her.
"Iris! Wait long?"
"Nah, just got here. Jenia."
Iris Hazel. The Saintess's Devout Life protagonist. The demonic temptress stealing countless men's hearts.
While scouting original male leads, Jenia befriended the heroine. Luckily, Iris wasn't prickly—easy to bond. At this stage, adapting to the new environment, Iris even approached eagerly.
'Guys matter, but she's the real key.'