In front of him was a big classroom, to his right there was a huge blackboard along with the teacher's desk.
The man was sitting there lazily, his head resting on his hand. The bags under his eyes showed how tired he was, and his messy hair plus the state of his clothes made it clear he didn't care much about appearances.
On top of his desk were some books and scattered she,ets of paper, and a few thermoses. He'd already finished three of them.
"How does his body handle that much caffeine?"
Lloyd wondered.
In front of the desk there was a small oval platform, probably some kind of arena. And behind it, long rows of wooden desks rising step by step like a lecture hall in a university, just like the ones Lloyd had seen in movies.
"Oh? Looks like someone was missing," the teacher said, his eyes landing on Lloyd. As soon as he said that, everyone turned to look at him. "Mmm, are you planning to stand there all class? I mean, nothing wrong with that, but I think you'd be more comfortable sitting."
"So that's what Mr. Roger Dubois looks like... yeah, not far from how I imagined him."
"Right away," Lloyd said, quickly heading to a seat.
There weren't many students in the Alpha class; after all, they were the elite—only twelve in total, counting him.
He spotted Anastasia sitting alone in one of the back rows. She was the only person he knew, so he went to sit next to her.
"Wait, did this guy walk into the wrong class? His uniform is clearly from the Omega class! And I don't remember seeing this commoner in the last class."
Lloyd grimaced at that voice—so smug and arrogant it was almost impressive.
He looked toward the source and met the disgusted stare of one of the students.
"Oh, this must be Oscar Nostradamus."
The boy looked like a secondary protagonist: his irises were blue, but his pupils were silver and shaped like stars. His hair was light blue, like the daytime sky, long and silky like a woman's.
"Maybe he's this annoying because of the stress of not coming out yet."
"Did you just call me a pleb? Am I supposed to be offended? Honestly, I doubt that word's even used anymore," Lloyd said as he sat down beside Anastasia—actually, he was talking to her directly.
The girl had her arms crossed, her face completely expressionless.
"Some nobles still use it, though it's a pretty outdated term," she said.
Lloyd nodded. It was an age where people were starting to realize they didn't need nobles anymore, and with the rise of the technomagic industry, anyone with skill could earn wealth and power.
Of course, nobles—who enjoyed privilege just for being born—weren't taking that very well. It showed how aggressive they were toward anyone outside their social class.
"Did he just sit next to Anastasia? Who does he think he is? The Ice Queen doesn't need some loser hanging around her," someone muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Professor! Aren't you going to do something?" Oscar shouted, already standing up.
The teacher let out a long sigh and took another sip of coffee.
"If you're going to interrupt my class, at least make it for something important, please... now, if you'll let me continue, that'd be nice. Since you're Alpha students, I can't afford to waste time, I have to give my full eff—"
"But he's not one of us! He's clearly lost or something!"
Roger's eye twitched as he gripped his cup tighter.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but the badge that boy's wearing is Alpha, not Omega," the teacher said, his voice calm but with anger clearly bubbling under the surface. "That means he has every right to be here."
Oscar looked again, glaring at Lloyd's badge like he couldn't believe it.
"There's no way he got that legitimately!" the boy exclaimed, indignant.
"This idiot doesn't take hints... well, in the novel he did something similar, but Reinhart crushed him in a duel and taught him his place. For once, I kind of get what that bastard was thinking."
"You see," the professor went on, his exhaustion obvious, "I couldn't care less. If you have a problem, you can file a complaint in the suggestion box. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to continue."
Lloyd had to hold back a laugh—he knew there was no suggestion box. In the novel, Oscar spent an entire week looking for it.
"Fine," the boy muttered, arms crossed and pouting.
Lloyd smiled. Finally, class could start.
"Alright, as I said, my name is Roger Dubois, your offensive magic instructor. But don't think this is just a practice class. This one isn't optional for a reason—we'll be covering theory too. Most of you have probably studied it already, but it'll serve as a review."
"In this class, we'll cover theory related to offensive magic. This part will count for 25% of your grade."
The man didn't even get up; he just wrote something on the small board on his desk, which immediately appeared on the big one behind him.
"Don't get too confident. Even if it's a small percentage, if you fail the exam, you fail the term," he warned.
"Oh, and even though it'll take place during the last three weeks of the term, the exam will be a surprise. So I'd advise you not to skip classes around that time... well, actually, don't skip any classes at all. Three unexcused absences in one term, and you'll be sent to the Beta class."
Some sighs echoed through the room—apparently, the idea of perfect attendance wasn't popular. But being demoted to Beta was worse.
"There's also a 10% for participation and attitude in class, and 15% for assignments I'll give you," he continued, pausing to drink more coffee.
"He's gonna die if he doesn't drink that every five minutes... maybe some evil gnome cursed him?" Lloyd muttered under his breath.
"I don't think it's right to make fun of a teacher," the girl said flatly.
Lloyd shook his head.
"I'm not making fun of him, I'm worried. Haven't you seen him? The poor guy looks like he hasn't slept in a week! Living off coffee isn't healthy. They should really let the man rest," he said, sounding genuinely concerned.
The girl tilted her head slightly, thinking it over.
"You're right. It is concerning that someone like him is teaching such a prestigious class."
"So cold... good god."
Lloyd let out a nervous laugh.
"That's not exactly what I meant, but sure."
"As I was saying," Roger continued, "between theory, participation, and assignments, that's already 50% of your grade. But don't forget—if you fail any of those parts, you won't pass the subject even if you score a hundred on everything else."
Lloyd sighed. It had been years since he last studied; going back to school felt strange.
"Hey, did you get your badge back in the end?" Lloyd asked quietly.
Anastasia nodded.
"I did. I'm sorry I haven't properly thanked you yet, but now isn't a good time either," she said.
"Oh, don't worry, I'm just glad you got it back."
"Still, thank you. If you ever need help with anything, just tell me."
Lloyd nodded, though those words sparked a dangerous little idea.
"Maybe I could ask for help with... feeding my hunger?"
"As you can imagine," the professor went on, "the rest of your grade will come entirely from practical offensive magic. You'll learn how to develop it and take part in duels. In fact, one class per week will be held in the courtyard or the training hall—no way you can all practice in here."
"Alright now, let's do a light review. I'm sure you already know this, but I'll say it anyway. Everyone is born with magical potential—the ability to defy the laws of the world."
"When you reach a certain age, between eight and twelve, you can take part in a Ceremony of Awakening. That lets you acquire a Grimoire, a mark that defines how your magic will take shape."
"There are three main types of Grimoires—or well, I like to say they can manifest in different ways: Spirits, which become an extension of yourself and grow alongside you; Egos, weapons that basically do the same thing as spirits; and lastly, the most common, Authorities—bound to a concept or element that can evolve or rather, develop further."
"Spirit users have the advantage that their companions can evolve and act independently. Egos are easier to handle but very sensitive to the user's emotions. Authorities are more complex but also much more versatile."
"I'm sure you all already know what kind of Grimoire you have, and just remember—none of you are limited. Each type has advantages, but all have unlimited potential."
Lloyd leaned a bit toward Anastasia.
"What kind of Grimoire do you have?"
Even if he already knew, he just wanted to make some conversation.
"An Ego," she answered shortly.
"So cold... guess I'll keep my mouth shut then."
"Tsk."
Someone clicked their tongue.
Lloyd felt someone's hateful gaze on him—a big guy, tall and muscular, with the face of a thug.
"What's this meathead looking at me for? If you're looking for a boyfriend, I think the blue-haired prince is single."
The professor fell silent, letting out a long sigh.
"Well, I wanted to continue a bit more, but since it's your first day, maybe you'd like something with more 'action'. I'd like to see your current skill level. Any volunteers?" Oscar immediately looked at the big guy who'd been glaring at Lloyd.
The guy stood up instantly.
"Me, sir!" he said, voice sharp like a soldier's.
"Oh no... I know where this is going. This is just like when Oscar fought Reinhart... only problem is, I have no idea who this gorilla is."
"Alright then, Lloyd, right? You'll duel against him," said the teacher, looking like he just wanted to get this over with.
"Me?" Lloyd asked, confused, though the big guy looked thrilled by the idea.
"Damn it, I only awakened my power like two days ago... am I supposed to fight someone from the Alpha class?"
"Yes. Some of your classmates seem to doubt your abilities—this is a good way to prove your worth," the teacher said.
"Why do I feel like he thinks he's doing me a favor?"
"Pfft, forget it, professor, he's probably too scared to fight," the big guy said with a smirk.
"... Fine, I'll go," Lloyd said, standing up from his seat. No way he was letting them look down on him.
"Time to teach an overconfident gorilla a lesson."