Awakening in Greenhold
Divine Era Calendar, Autumn of Year 9999, Moonshore, City of Greenhold
Greenhold Academy was more than just an institution; it was a sacred cradle of potential, a place where the city's brightest scions of noble families and wealthy clans honed their strength and intellect. To gain entry was an honor few could claim, and those who did would dedicate themselves with unwavering diligence. Success here meant prestige, power, and the promise of a future that even emperors might envy.
Yet not everyone shared this reverence.
In a sunlit classroom, rows of polished desks reflected the morning light, and the scent of ink and old parchment lingered faintly in the air. Amidst the attentive outer sect disciples, one young man remained undisturbed, slouched over his desk in a deep, almost unnatural sleep.
At the front of the room stood a young woman, her presence commanding the space without effort. Her long black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of silk, eyes sharp and green as the forest after rain, her curves a subtle declaration of both grace and strength. This was Amaya Green, seventeen, an official disciple of the academy and lecturer for the outer sect disciples. Today, however, a rare flicker of anger crossed her flawless features.
Her gaze fell upon the sleeping figure. A hush rippled through the classroom, all eyes drawn involuntarily to her. Even in anger, her movements were smooth, precise—each step measured as if choreographed by some unspoken elegance.
"This guy again! He actually fell asleep during Senior Sister Amaya's lecture!" whispered one student, breaking the tense silence. Some in the class hadn't noticed him before, but now, embarrassment and irritation mingled in the air.
Another muttered under his breath, almost envious, "Senior Sister Amaya is seriously eye candy… how could anyone fall asleep with her right there?"
Popularity, as the students well knew, was not merely due to Amaya's striking beauty. Her lectures were captivating, her knowledge extensive, and her presence alone commanded full attention. Falling asleep in her classroom was a feat of recklessness few could dare attempt.
Amaya's steps were silent as she approached him, her shadow stretching over his desk. She stood before the young man, her green eyes narrowing as she took in his relaxed, oblivious demeanor.
"Kai Dawnsworn," a soft voice came—not from Amaya, but from behind the slumbering youth.
The sound pricked his consciousness. Slowly, Kai Dawnsworn lifted his head, groaning, eyes half-lidded. In the haze of early morning sleep, his gaze wandered… and landed on two distinct peaks beneath the folds of Amaya's long teal dress.
"So big…" he murmured unconsciously, hand reaching out before his mind even caught up with his lips. His soft, almost reverent words carried in the still room, sharp as a whip. Every student froze, eyes wide, before outrage erupted like wildfire.
"What the—how can he—?!" one student hissed.
"This shameless bastard!" another spat, their collective glare striking Kai Dawnsworn like shards of ice. A chill ran down his spine as he realized the gravity of his error. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, leaving behind the… tempting distraction, only to find something far more dangerous: a pair of eyes, green as poisoned jade, locked onto him.
"Uh…" Kai Dawnsworn's mouth opened, but the words faltered. That wasn't Amaya Green speaking—at least, not from where he'd expected. The voice belonged to a girl barely fifteen, her dark eyes calm, her expression deceptively serene.
Cursing silently under his breath, Kai Dawnsworn realized he had been played. No wonder his initial impressions had been… misleading.
"Senior Sister Amaya, I…" he stammered, attempting a weak defense.
"Kai Dawnsworn," Amaya interrupted, her tone icy, cutting off any chance of excuse. "What is the history behind the establishment of Greenhold Academy?"
The question was not just an academic inquiry. Its weight carried her unspoken ire. He could feel it now—the invisible edge of her Will of Sword, slicing through the room, pricking at his skin as though he were bare before a blade.
"Three hundred years ago," Kai Dawnsworn began, drawing on the history books stored in his mind, "when the old empires fell into chaos, a commoner rose to claim the imperial throne. After overcoming countless trials, he became the Grey Emperor. Upon consolidating power, he issued orders across all territories, commanding every duke to establish martial arts academies to cultivate strength and wisdom. This is the origin of Greenhold Academy."
The official histories were clear. Yet, in Kai Dawnsworn's private, clan-taught versions, there was a name that could never be spoken aloud—taboo, forbidden. He carefully omitted it.
Amaya's gaze did not waver. "And what types of occupations are associated with development?"
Kai Dawnsworn straightened, recalling his lessons. "Development is divided into martial arts and Spell Craft arts. Martial arts cultivate warriors, knights, swordsmen, and similar paths. Spell Craft arts involve mages, alchemists, armorers… and those who can manipulate mana in any form. Naturally gifted individuals often pursue both, bridging the disciplines."
Amaya's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "It seems you've overlooked one type."
"I couldn't possibly have missed anything," Kai Dawnsworn replied, voice steady, a hint of pride glinting in his gold eyes. "The Divine Era recognizes Blade-Seers as the pinnacle of power. Those blessed with rare gifts—the conjurers, beastmasters, astrologers—all fall into this category. Regardless of the path they follow, they surpass all others."
A hush fell over the room. His words carried weight. "A Blade-Seer is legendary. Even among royal armies, a single Blade-Seer commands awe. Their power does not come from brute strength, but from the will of the stars itself, blessed by the heavens. Even the most ordinary among them is capable in both martial arts and Spell Craft, wielding strength and magic as one."
Amaya Green studied him carefully, a flicker of respect breaking through her lingering anger. Still, the frost in her voice remained.
"I didn't…" she began, though her words faltered, weighed down by the storm of emotions beneath her calm exterior.