The cover read — Introduction Manual.
Flipping through it, I found that it covered exactly what the name said: the rules, the classes, the perks of an Inner Hall student, the mystery grounds, and most importantly, the credit points.
Credit points were what anyone would expect — the currency of the Martial Hall. You need credits to borrow martial techniques, to access the mystery grounds, and to get special equipment, pills, materials, and so on. In short, without credits, the Martial Hall is just a big place with a lot of buildings.
The rules were very basic. Fights are allowed, but only on the battle stage, or as training with mutual consent and a staff member present. Life-and-death fights are not allowed, and crippling is not allowed either.
(So they can beat me, but they can't kill or cripple me. Very considerate.)
Classes run from 8 to 12 in the morning, with two different classes a day that alternate depending on when the teachers are free — Alchemy, Blacksmith, Runes, Arrays, Weapons, Combat, Cultivation, and Martial Arts. Attending is optional for Inner Hall students, since the classes are meant to build the foundation, and Inner Hall students are supposed to be past the basics already.
The perks were what made me sit up straight. Ten free credits every month, access to the first floor of the library, one cultivation technique along with one martial arts technique chosen from the second floor, and free demon meat every day.
Reading this, I couldn't help but click my tongue. These benefits alone were enough for even average hunters to want to fight me for my spot, let alone the Outer Hall students who had paid to get in.
But it was the mystery grounds that were really tempting — the real benefit of joining the Martial Hall. The manual only mentioned them in passing, so I didn't know what this Hall had, but I had already decided that a good portion of my credits would go there.
There was also a section on exams. Each year there is one final exam and four quarterly exams, and the first to third places receive heavy rewards — especially in the final exam. I read that part twice.
Closing the manual, I looked at it seriously for a while, comparing it with the notes I had written at home. Most of my plan still held, but now I had numbers to work with — ten credits a month, two techniques from the second floor, and five exams a year. If I wanted more than what was handed to me, the exams were the most direct way.
At this time my stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Thinking of the free demon meat, I opened the last pages of the manual, where there was a simple map of the Martial Hall, found the cafeteria, changed into the student uniform, and walked out.
...
The cafeteria was a big hall with long tables, and since it was already late afternoon, it wasn't too crowded. Still, the moment I walked in, a few heads turned towards me. Some of them were the same people who had seen me in the 2nd building with my bag, and now they were whispering again, looking at me like some kind of anomaly — someone who had appeared in the middle of the term, out of nowhere, in an Inner Hall uniform.
Ignoring them, I went to the counter and got a plate of rice and a big portion of roasted demon meat. You should know that demon meat isn't just tasty — it contains a little energy which helps the body adapt, and eating it regularly helps people become martial artists faster. That was why my father's shop never lacked customers. Taking a bite, I felt a faint warmth spreading in my stomach and couldn't help but nod. The cook wasn't bad, though my father's was still better.
Before I could take a second bite, a shadow fell over my table.
Looking up, I saw a tall boy around my age, maybe a year older, with sharp eyebrows and his arms crossed, while three or four others stood behind him with the kind of expression you see on people who came to watch a show.
He looked at my uniform, then at me, and said with a sneer,
"So you're the one. The one who walked into the Inner Hall without taking a single exam."
Hearing this, I swallowed my food and replied calmly,
"I am. Is there a problem?"
Seeing that I wasn't scared, his sneer deepened as he said,
"A problem? Everyone here knows you got in because of influence. Look at you — you haven't even started cultivating martial arts, I can tell. Most of us have already reached Martial Disciple stage 1, and the most promising one this year has already reached stage 4 since the start of the year. And you, who can't even sense spirit energy, are sitting in the same building as him. Do you know how many people bled to get that card in your pocket?"
The boys behind him nodded along, while the people at the other tables had stopped eating to watch.
(Martial Disciple stage 1, and stage 4 since the start of the year — so that is the first step.) I noted it down in my head. Honestly, this was the most useful thing he had said.
Hearing him out, I didn't get angry. Everything he said was true, and I had already thought about it on the way to my room. The problem was that no matter how much I talked, this would continue — today it would be him, tomorrow someone else, and the day after that, someone else again. Words don't convince people like this; only results do.
So I put down my chopsticks and said,
"You're right, I got in because of a recommendation, and I haven't started cultivating yet. Arguing about it won't change anything for either of us. So let's just spar in the next quarterly exam. If I lose, you can say whatever you want, and I won't say a word."
He was clearly stunned for a moment, since he had probably expected me to either back down or argue, and then he laughed, as did the ones behind him.
"Spar? You? Fine, I'll wait. Don't run back to your daddy before then."
Saying this, he turned around and left with his group, while the whispers around the cafeteria grew louder. I just picked up my chopsticks and continued eating. The demon meat was free, after all, and wasting it would be a crime.
(Well, whatever. I have now made a promise to a guy whose name I don't even know. At least I have a deadline.)
...
By the time I returned to my room, it was already evening. I spent some time updating my notes with what I had learned from the manual and the cafeteria, and it was only later at night that I heard the main door open.
Walking out of my bedroom, I saw my roommate for the first time.
He was handsome, lean, and suave, with a straight posture and calm eyes, wearing the same uniform as me — yet somehow it looked far more expensive on him. The way he moved, the way he looked at the messy hall as though the mess wasn't his concern at all, made me think of the sons of big noble families from the novels of my previous life. Even in this town, I had never seen someone like this.
Seeing me, he didn't look surprised. He looked me up and down once, as if he had already heard about me, and said in an even tone,
"You're the new one."
I nodded and was about to introduce myself, but he continued before I could,
"I have a few terms. Don't enter my bedroom, don't touch my things, and don't bring your trouble into this room — I heard you already found some today. Other than that, don't disturb me. Do that, and we won't have any problems."
He paused.
"I'm not looking for a friend. Nor an enemy."
Hearing this, I looked at him for a few seconds. There was no hostility in his voice, nor any warmth — he was simply stating facts, like someone used to having his terms accepted. Someone like this, sharing a room in a small town's Martial Hall, was a mystery in itself. But I had no reason to antagonize him, and a roommate who wanted nothing from me was much better than one who wanted to make trouble.
(Besides, I don't know what's behind him yet. A cautious kid from a small town shouldn't poke at things he doesn't understand.)
So I nodded and said,
"Fine. I accept."
Getting my confirmation, he gave a slight nod and walked into the left bedroom, closing the door behind him without another word — he didn't even give me his name.
Shaking my head, I returned to my room, washed up, and lay down to sleep, since there was class the next morning.
...
The next day, I woke up before dawn, and for a moment I didn't recognize the ceiling above me. Then everything came back — the letter, the Elder, the cafeteria, the roommate — and I couldn't help but smile.
Washing up quickly, I put on my uniform, took my notes, and stepped out. The door of the left bedroom was still closed, and the hall was as messy as ever. Although attendance wasn't mandatory for Inner Hall students, for me, who hadn't even started cultivating, skipping the basics would be stupid.
Checking the map one last time, I walked towards the classroom building as the morning sun rose over the West Zone, my steps lighter than they had been in a long time. Whatever I learned today, it would be my first real step on this path — a path I had chosen for myself.