Ashur gave a small, playful wave toward Mirai again, lips curving.

“Still watching, princess?” he mouthed silently.

Mirai looked confused, tilting her head; she quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her sleeve. Louis’s eye twitched, but he kept his expression neutral.

The director continued.

“Layla Mustafar.”

A clear brown-skinned girl with clear pink hair. She was a very beautiful young lady with red lipstick and makeup. It felt like if it weren’t for the uniform, she would be wearing a belly dancer outfit—and she did, most of the time. From what Louis could gather, she had a kind and extroverted personality and was always behind her Lord, seemingly in love with him. She wielded a pair of scimitars while using dancing moves. She had a spirit orb and could unleash three other spirits that accompanied her in her lethal dances. Her dances also had magical abilities and could buff stats and even refresh turns—though Louis did not know how that would translate in real life, as the concept of turns did not exist.

“Ishtar Ninlil.”

A young woman with skin like burnished bronze stepped up beside Ashur. She had long, tightly braided black hair interwoven with golden threads, emerald-green eyes that almost glowed, and an aura of barely restrained violence. Her uniform was modified slightly, the sleeves cut shorter to reveal intricate golden tattoos curling up her forearms like living script. Twin curved daggers hung at her waist, and a golden circlet rested on her brow.

She was said to be one of the strongest close combatants among the younger generation of Mesopotamia, with an awakened “Blood Oath” ability that let her temporarily borrow the vitality of anyone she wounded. She had a tomboyish, aggressive personality and, besides her Lord, obeyed no one’s words. She constantly got into fights—even with members of her own house. Her tattoos originated from an Entity born within her body, the source of her herculean strength.

“Enkidu Shamash.”

Next came a lean, wiry boy with messy silver hair and calm gray eyes. Unlike the others, he wore almost no gold; his uniform was plain except for faint sky-blue embroidery resembling cuneiform script. A long staff of white wood rested across his shoulders. Enkidu was rumored to be a “Binder,” someone capable of forming pacts with ancient spirits and even lesser divinities sealed within Fantasy Fields. Quiet, observant, and dangerously intelligent. He was a great summoner-type magician. At low levels he was quite unpredictable, but the higher his level, the more creatures he could summon from the Dimensional Labyrinth—and later both control and fuse.

“Ninhursag Eresh.”

A gentle-looking girl with warm brown skin, soft hazel eyes, and long wavy auburn hair. She carried a tall shepherd’s crook topped with a blooming golden flower. Despite her delicate appearance, she was a renowned healer among the Mesopotamian nobles. Her powers could accelerate natural regeneration to absurd degrees and even temporarily resurrect plants, animals, and—with enough strain—people. Many whispered she was being groomed to become the next High Priestess of the revived temples.

“Gilgamesh Uruk.”

The name alone made several people straighten. A tall, broad-shouldered young man with tanned skin, wild golden-blond hair, and sharp crimson eyes stepped forward. He wore his uniform half-unbuttoned, revealing a chest covered in faint golden scars that looked almost like writing. A heavy red cloak hung from his shoulders, and a short golden sword—more ceremonial than practical—hung at his side.

Arrogant, prideful, and said to possess the “King’s Treasure” ability—an inherited power that let him manifest weapons and armors from a personal vault of relics his bloodline had collected over centuries. A descendant of the “Ancient Humans” discovered in the Fantasy Realm of Babylonia, which to this day made most VPI scientists wonder if they could be considered Entities or not.

A great warrior and magician hybrid overall, but with a nasty personality. His strength came with a side effect due to his “Noble’s Pride” Trait, making him sometimes refuse direct commands and act on his own—which was quite detrimental for a tactical RPG.

He glanced toward Louis, smirked, and then looked away dismissively.

“Shamhat Lilu.”

A striking beauty with pale gold skin, long platinum hair, and heterochromatic eyes—one violet, one amber. Delicate black tattoos resembling wings spread across her shoulder blades, visible through the sheer parts of her uniform’s back. She was a Charmer, able to beguile minds and emotions with voice and gaze alone. Dangerous in social situations, and even more so on the battlefield when she could turn enemies against each other. A notorious Spiralwalker and great user of the Spiral of Seduction. Highly situational and luck-based, however. But perhaps not anymore in real life.

“Tiamat Drakeheart Yggdrasil.”

The last name drew a ripple of murmurs.

A tall girl—no, young woman—stepped forward. Deep yellow and gold crystal-like scales covered patches of her dark skin, curling golden horns swept back from her forehead, and enormous bat-like wings remained folded tightly against her back. Her tail, long and spiked, dragged slightly across the stone. Crimson-gold slit-pupil eyes glared at the world with open disdain. She wore her uniform like armor, sleeves torn off, collar open to reveal more scales across her collarbone.

This was the daughter of Drakda and Amethyst—Louis’s cousin.

She didn’t speak. She simply stared at Louis for three full seconds, then snorted smoke from her nostrils and looked away.

The director finished the roll call.

“House of Mesopotamia is confirmed present.”

He rolled up the scroll with a satisfied nod.

“Now then…” Chris Bluefield’s voice boomed once more. “Before we proceed to the official welcome banquet and dormitory assignments, there is one last tradition to uphold.”

He gestured toward the center of the stage.

A massive circular platform rose slowly from the white stone floor, etched with glowing runes representing the four cardinal houses and the neutral symbol of the academy at the very middle.

“This is the Oath Stone.”

The director placed one huge hand on it. The runes flared to life.

“Every student who wishes to officially enroll must step forward, place their hand upon the stone, and swear the Sinner’s Oath. This is not mere ceremony. The stone is bound to the Divine Realm itself. Breaking the oath once sworn will result in immediate expulsion—and worse, the realm may reject you entirely, expelling your body and soul back to Earth with severe spiritual wounds.”

Silence fell.

“Only those who swear may remain. Those who refuse may leave now, no shame attached. This academy was built for Sinners, by Sinners, but we will never force anyone.”

No one moved to leave.

“The Sinners Oath was a small thing in the game that could be abused. But at the same time, everyone already must know how to easily bypass it—and so do I.”

Although the Oath Stone possessed incredible power, those who possessed a Spiral could oppose it through their own Fantasy Heart Domain. Covering themselves with it allowed them to easily bypass any oath, as their existences would be bound to a different realm.

Still, perhaps not everyone knew anyway, so it remained a good way to ensure nobody tried to kill each other… for now.

Bluefield smiled.

“Very well. We begin with the House Lords.”

He looked directly at Louis.

“Prince Louis Drakeheart Yggdrasil of Frostbane. Step forward.”

Louis felt every eye on him.

He walked calmly to the center, boots clicking against the stone. Without hesitation, he placed his palm on the cool surface of the Oath Stone.

The runes beneath his hand ignited in pale blue and silver light.

The director’s voice rang out.

“Repeat after me.”

Louis nodded.

“I, Louis Drakeheart Yggdrasil, swear upon my blood, soul, and name…”

The words echoed across the floating island.

“…to uphold the principles of the Sinners Academy. To train, to grow, to protect. To never use my power to oppress the weak or innocent. To stand against Grievances, Calamities, and all threats to this world. To treat my fellow students as comrades, not enemies—unless they first break this oath. And should I falter, may the Divine Realm itself judge me.”

The light flared brilliantly, wrapping around Louis’s arm like liquid starlight before sinking into his skin.

A small, intricate sigil appeared on the back of his hand, a stylized snowflake encircled by a dragon’s coil.

The Oath was complete.

The crowd erupted in cheers.

One by one, the other House Lords followed.

Mikoto’s oath glowed vermillion and gold.

Arthur’s burned bright azure and silver, Excalibur’s silhouette briefly appearing behind him.

Ashur’s pulsed molten gold and crimson, and for a moment the air smelled of incense and ancient sand.

Then came the rest of the students.

When it was Mirai’s turn, she hesitated only a second before stepping up. Her oath light was violet laced with black flames, her cursed soul reacting to the ritual. The sigil on her hand appeared as a coiling serpent eating its own tail.

Selene went last among the Frostbane group, trembling. Louis knelt beside her and guided her small paw to the stone. The light that answered was soft silver and shadow—gentle despite her monstrous appearance. Her sigil was a simple crescent moon cradling a tiny star.

She smiled shyly when it was done.

Once every student had sworn, the Oath Stone sank back into the floor.

Director Bluefield spread his arms wide.

“Then it is official.”

“Welcome… to the Sinners Academy.”

Thunderous applause and cheers exploded from every corner of the colosseum.

Celestina, hovering high above, let out a proud, melodic chime.

The floating island seemed to pulse in response, welcoming its newest guardians.

Louis glanced sideways.

Arthur was staring at him again, this time with open challenge in his eyes.

Ashur winked at Mirai once more.

Mikoto simply watched everything with cool, calculating calm.

And somewhere in the back of Louis’s mind, William’s old game knowledge whispered:

This is where it all truly begins.

Louis smirked faintly.

Let’s see how different reality is from the game.

He turned toward his companions.

“Come on. Let’s go claim our dormitories.”

“And then…” his eyes narrowed slightly, “…the real fun starts tomorrow.”

The first Dungeon Game awaited.

And with it, the chance to show the world exactly who Louis Drakeheart Yggdrasil had become.

—–

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep