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Chapter 1: A Prestigious Facade
NOXALLIN ACADEMY OF MAGIC AND MARTIAL ARTS.
An academy meant to nurture talent.
A place that supposedly raises the future pillars of the NOXALLIN Empire.
Pretty cool name, right?
Too bad it's a lie.
At the end of the day, this so-called academy is nothing more than a factory—one that mass-produces loyal slaves for the empire. The only joke funnier than that is the title they give to those slaves.
Imperial Knights.
Imperial Mages.
Or one title which is staying with you till you reach six feet under Heroes
Cringe.
Right now, I'm standing in front of the academy's massive iron gates, waiting for my identity to be verified so I can enter this hellhole with prestige branding.
You're probably wondering why I'm cursing this godforsaken place so much.
Well, let me explain.
This academy—this exact academy—is part of a novel I once read back when I was preparing for my high school entrance exams. I was totally hooked at the time, even though looking back now, the story was… questionable.
The plot went something like this:
The protagonist was the third son of Earl Veldoris, a heaven-blessed genius destined to reach the realm of Swordmaster. He joins the academy, dominates every practical class, collects romance flags like Pokémon, clears dungeons with an eighty percent success rate, kills his eldest brother by teaming up with the second one, and then fights—
Aliens.
Yes. Aliens.
Not demons.
They're called extra-terrestial monsters, but let's just keep it simple —aliens are aliens.
And most of the students—
"Student Edward Van Dragonia, you may pass."
A guard's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He handed me my identification along with a newly issued academy card bearing my face.
"Thank you for your hard work," I said politely and walked past the gate.
The guard didn't reply.
'Ungrateful bastard. The least you could say is 'it was my pleasure'.'
Anyway, where was I?
Ah, right. The novel.
Shitty story. Cringe names. Predictable plot.
Still… not a bad read.
Honestly, I didn't even want to be here. But being born as the heir of Duke Dragonia means personal desires don't matter. It was a matter of pride for my father—one of the seven Archmages of the continent.
So here I am.
My original plan was simple: stay just long enough to gather enough funds, then run away and start a peaceful new life somewhere far away from nobles, politics, and fate.
Too bad my allowance was suddenly reduced to five percent of what it used to be.
Looks like I'll be staying longer than expected.
I swear, the moment I return home, I'm raiding my father's treasury.
After Edward Left
"That was Duke Dragonia's heir, right?" one guard whispered.
"Yeah," another replied, his pale face framed by dark circles. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.
"I heard he has monstrous strength," said the third guard—the same ungrateful bastard from earlier.
"I also heard that just talking to him makes your muscles ache," the first guard added nervously.
"That's why I didn't reply to him," the third said. "Nobles are scary. Better safe than sorry "said the exhausted guard
"Let's just get back to work," the exhausted guard sighed. "I'm dead tired."
The three returned to their duties just as another student approached.
"Identification, please," said the ungrateful bastard.
A red-haired student wearing a jacket that practically screamed money handed over his papers.
"Noah Von Veldoris," the guard muttered under his breath.
After confirmation, they let him pass.
"This bastard didn't said thankyou or a good day" said the same ungrateful bastard.
"Like you will reply" said the exhausted guard.
"I never reply to geniuses,heard he is destined to reach the rank of swordmaster".said the ungrateful bastard with a smug on his face
Other two frowned at his smug
"Man… one genius after another, huh?" the first guard said.
"Back to work," the exhausted guard replied.
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