Two weeks have passed since the entrance exam. This time has been spent by Ray studying the materials Gideon had left him, his mind absorbing the complex political and historical theories of Eldoria. At night, his small room at The Scholar’s Rest would become a crucible, as he forced his body through the agonizing, secret rituals of the Crucible Path, fighting for every fraction of a point in his Constitution stat. On the morning of the first day of the term, a somber farewell took place in the inn’s courtyard. Sergeant Borin and the three other household guards stood before Ray, their armor cleaned, their horses saddled for the long journey home. Their mission was complete.

“We will depart at first light, my lord,”

Borin said, his voice a low gravel. There was a deep, unwavering respect in his eyes that had not been there when they had left Greywood.

“Lord Alistair will be pleased to hear of your success.”

He handed Ray a small, sealed pouch of coins.

“He also… bid me to tell you that should you wish to return home for the winter holiday, you need only send a letter, and he will dispatch an escort to fetch you.”

The message was clear. This was not a temporary visit. Solhaven was now his home. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Thank you, Sergeant,”

Ray said, his voice clear and formal. He looked each of the guards in the eye.

“Your courage on the King’s Road protected us all, House Croft is in your debt.”

The men, who had faced down bandits without flinching, seemed deeply moved by the quiet, heartfelt praise from the small boy. They each gave him a respectful, soldierly bow before mounting their horses and riding out of the city gates, a small, lonely retinue heading back to a world Ray had left behind.

He and Rina then made their way up the hill to the academy. This time, they did not stop at the administration building. They followed a stream of other new students through the main gates and towards a massive, ornate archway that stood shimmering in the center of the main courtyard. It was an arch that led to nowhere, its center filled with a silvery, opaque curtain of light. A senior master stood before the arch. As each student presented their letter of acceptance, they were handed a small, silver ‘Scholar’s Medallion’ on a chain. When Ray’s turn came, the master handed him his. It was cool to the touch, engraved with the academy’s crest. At the same time, Rina was given a simple bronze brooch, a “Steward’s Crest,” that marked her as his attendant.

“Proceed through the gate, Initiate Croft,”

The master said.

“And welcome to Solhaven Academy.”

Ray took a deep breath, nodded to Rina, and stepped through the shimmering curtain of light. The sensation was like stepping into a dream. The noise and bustle of the city vanished, replaced by a clean, quiet air. He was no longer in the city of Solhaven; he was somewhere else entirely. The sky above was a perfect, cloudless azure, an impossible color that seemed to hum with latent energy. Before him lay a campus so vast it dwarfed the city he had just left. Grand buildings of white stone and polished wood were connected by wide, manicured lawns and stone pathways. In the distance, he could see lush forests, a sparkling lake, and even the foothills of a small, sculpted mountain. This was the academy’s demi-plane, a pocket dimension of impossible scale, powered by magic he couldn’t begin to comprehend.

“Gods above,”

Rina whispered, her hand clutching his sleeve, her eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s… a whole new world.”

Ray simply nodded, his own mind reeling.

This…is power!

he thought.

They were herded with the other initiates into a grand orientation hall. A stern-faced female instructor stood before them, her gaze sweeping over the crowd of nervous, excited faces. She explained the rules of their new lives.

“You have been accepted into one of the three great colleges of this institution: Valor, Arcanum, or Statecraft. Each is a path to a different form of power within the Kingdom of Eldoria,”

She began, her voice sharp and clear.

“Those in the College of Arcanum will seek to master Institutional Magic. You will be measured by the Circles of Arcane Mastery. You begin today as nothing, but with dedication, you may one day rise from a First Circle Novice to the level of a Master Mage, or perhaps even achieve the legendary rank of a Ninth Circle Grand Magus.”

Her gaze shifted to the brawnier students.

“Those in the College of Valor will forge your bodies and your will into weapons to serve the kingdom. You will strive to climb the Aegis Ranks of our Spellsword corps, from a First Rank Iron Aegis to the legendary Fifth Rank Mythril Aegis, the living heroes of the realm.”

Finally, her eyes settled on the students wearing the pin of Statecraft. The instructor paused, letting the weight of her words settle.

“And those of you in the College of Statecraft will learn the art of influence, the most subtle and often most potent of all powers. You will learn to navigate the Tiers of Influence, to understand the intricate dance of lineage, wealth, and authority, so that one day you might rise from wielding local power to shaping the very fate of the Kingdom at the national level.”

Detective: “Look at the pin, kid. Four stars inside a circle. She just finished yapping about the Circles of Arcane Mastery. It ain’t a coincidence. She’s wearing her rank on her collar for everyone to see. My guess? She’s a Fourth Circle Mage. A professional, but not top brass. Just a gatekeeper.”

The Detective’s casual assessment sent a jolt through Ray.

A Fourth Circle Mage was just a ‘gatekeeper’?

he thought, his mind immediately turning to his most powerful ally.

Then what Circle is Master Gideon?

The query, barely formed, was all the system needed.

[QUERY DETECTED. ACCESSING MEMORY LOGS: ‘FIRST ENCOUNTER – GIDEON ASHWORTH’. DISPLAYING VISUAL RECORD.]

The grand orientation hall faded from Ray’s vision, replaced by a memory, sharp and clear. He was a younger boy again, standing in the dusty great hall of Greywood Keep. The memory was of a man with unruly graying brown hair and kind eyes magnified by spectacles, more like a distracted librarian than a figure of power.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

But this time, with his new context, Ray’s attention was drawn to a detail he had completely overlooked as a younger, more naive child. There, on the high collar of Gideon’s dark, scholarly robes, was a small, silver pin, identical in design to the instructor’s. It was shaped like a circle, and etched within it were six brilliant stars.

The memory faded. Six stars. A Sixth Circle Master Mage . The revelation was so staggering that his internal committee erupted.

Conman: “Whoa, whoa, whoa! A Sixth Circle Master? And we conned him into being our ally by accident?! Kid, your dumb luck is a superpower all on its own. That’s not just a powerful ally; that’s a royal flush you pulled from the bottom of the deck!”

Courtier: “Luck was a factor, but our performance was key. We have secured a high tier political asset through a masterful deception. His value as an ally has just increased tenfold. We must cultivate this relationship with extreme care.”

The instructor lowered her voice as if warning them and continued explaining.

“These are the paths of power available to you. But they are not given; they are earned. Your life here will be governed by the academy’s currency, Academic Marks, and your initial allotment, based on your exam scores, has already been credited to you.”

She also explained the various ways to earn more through academic excellence, commissions from other students on the public notice boards, and, for the truly exceptional, by breaking records in the ‘Halls of Preeminence.’

“Your Scholar’s Medallion is your key to everything,”

The instructor explained, her voice sharp.

“It is your identification, your room key, and your ledger. With it, you will pay for your lodging, your food at the dining halls, and, most importantly, your classes. You are free to enroll in any introductory course you wish without any charge, but for the following intermediate or advance course you will have to pay for it with your academy marks. Be warned: Marks are a precious resource. Spend them unwisely, and you will find your time at Solhaven short and unpleasant.”

She continued discussing more details about the academy and after the orientation, the students were dismissed. A low hum of excited chatter filled the hall. Ray held his new medallion.

System, can you interface with this?

Ray thought as he was examining the medallion.

[ANALYZING… Simple enchanted artifact detected. Mana-based. I can access its public interface.]

A new screen, simpler and more elegant than his own system’s, seemed to project itself from the medallion into his mind’s eye.

[STUDENT: Ray Croft]

[COLLEGE: Statecraft (Undeclared Scholar)]

[ACADEMIC MARKS: 50]

Ray looked at the information and the ‘Underclared Scholar’ tag then he remembered the scene at the end of the entrance exam after Lorian handed out the results. He had advised the ones that have passed that they have assigned them to a college and recommended they focus on improving where they excel. Lorian then especially mentioned Ray that they couldn’t assign him to any college as even the students in the College of Statecraft had to take some magic classes so they tag him as such, making him known as an anomaly.

Then he looked at his Academic Marks, fifty. It sounded like a decent number, until he accessed the registry for student housing. The luxurious private suites cost thousands of Marks per term. Even a standard shared room in the College of Valor or Arcanum cost two hundred. The only thing in his price range was a single, spartan room in the oldest, most remote dormitory, usually reserved for scholarship students with no family backing. It cost exactly forty-five Marks for the term, leaving him with a paltry five for food and supplies.

As they were leaving the hall, a large, barrel-chested boy deliberately bumped into him. It was Darian Varrus, the Valor initiate from the exam day, his new silver sword pin gleaming on his tunic.

“Watch where you’re going, bookworm,”

Darian sneered.

“Oh, wait, you’re the ‘Undeclared Scholar,’ aren’t you?”

“I suppose that’s what they call someone who’s too weak to fight and too dull to cast a spell.”

Before Ray could even formulate a response, a clear, witty voice cut through the tension.

“Oh, leave him be, Darian.”

“He’s probably just trying to calculate the precise angle of your knuckle-dragging gait.”

“It’s a complex equation.”

The big boy, Darian, turned to see a girl with sharp, intelligent brown eyes and a confident smile. She wore the pin of the College of Statecraft. Darian flushed red.

“Mind your own business, Vance.”

“He is my business,”

She replied breezily.

“We intellectuals have to stick together, after all.”

“Now run along, I think I hear the grunting-and-hitting-things bell about to ring.”

Darian, clearly not equipped for a battle of wits, simply grunted in frustration and shoved his way through the crowd, his friends trailing behind him. The girl turned to Ray, her smile genuine now.

“Eliza Vance,”

she said, offering a hand.

“A pleasure to meet the anomaly in person.”

“Anyone who can make Master Lorian’s face twitch like that is a friend of mine.”

Ray shook her hand, a small, grateful smile touching his own lips.

“Ray Croft.”

“Don’t mind him,”

Eliza said to Ray with a grin.

“His father bought his way in with a massive ‘donation.’”

“He’s furious that a merit-based student like you is getting all the attention.”

“She tapped her own medallion.”

“I’m in the Fenwood dormitory. Where are you headed?”

Ray consulted the interface.

“Cormorant Hall.”

Eliza’s smile faltered for a second.

“Oh. That’s… on the far side of the lake.”

“It’s a bit rustic, I hear.”

She quickly recovered.

“Well, I’m sure it’s quiet!”

“Perfect for studying.”

“I’ll see you at the introductory rhetoric lecture.”

She gave him a cheerful wave and disappeared into the crowd.

Ray and Rina spent the next hour navigating the vast campus. After asking for directions three times, they finally found Cormorant Hall, a grey, ivy-covered stone building that looked ancient and forgotten compared to the gleaming halls of the other colleges. Their room was small, sparse, and overlooked the kitchens. It was a clear, calculated message:

“You may be a prodigy, but here, you start at the bottom.”

As they were arranging his few belongings, Ray felt a sudden, prickling sensation on the back of his neck the Survival Instincts he had gifted Rina, now echoing back to him through their strange connection. He looked up. Standing in their open doorway was a young woman. She was sixteen now, poised and dressed in the formal robes of a senior student of the College of Arcanum. Her watchful, intelligent eyes were the same ones he remembered from a tense dinner party four years ago. It was Kaelen Thorne.

On the high collar of her robes, a silver pin glinted in the dim light. It was a simple circle, but within it were etched two small, stylized stars. Ray recognized the design from the orientation instructor’s pin.

Detective: “Same design, fewer stars. Two stars for a Second Circle Mage. She’s not just a senior student; she’s a recognized Apprentice-level practitioner. Competent, but not yet an Adept. This is her official standing.”

“It has been a long time, Ray Croft,”

She said, her voice a cool, neutral melody. Her gaze swept over the spartan room, then back to him.

“I see the fortunes of your house have… changed.”

Her face was an unreadable mask. Was she here as a friend? An enemy? A messenger? The ghost from his past had just walked onto his new stage, and he had no idea what part she was meant to play.

“Lady Kaelen,”

He said, offering a small, respectful bow.

“It is a surprise to see you here.”

“I was surprised to hear of your acceptance,”

She replied, her gaze sweeping over his spartan room before settling back on him.

“Especially given the… circumstances… of our last meeting.”

“You seem to have made a remarkable recovery.”

It was a probe, a delicate test to see if he would acknowledge the shared trauma of that night. The Scheming Courtier in his Ambient Presence immediately advised caution. She is fishing for information. Acknowledge nothing.

“The maesters were very skilled,”

Ray said simply, his face a blank canvas. Kaelen’s lips thinned into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. She was not dealing with a normal eleven-year-old.

“Indeed,”

She said,

“The academy is a place of many challenges, for a boy of a minor house, especially one with no magical talent, it can be particularly… difficult.”

“You will need allies.”

Was that an offer, or a threat?

Ray thought.

“I will endeavor to do my best in my studies,”

Ray deflected.

“See that you do,”

she said, her tone softening almost imperceptibly.

“Not all rivals announce themselves as loudly as Darian Varrus.”

With that cryptic warning, she gave a slight nod and was gone, leaving Ray and Rina in a stunned silence.

“Who was that?”

Rina whispered, her hand instinctively going to the Steward’s Crest on her dress. Her Survival Instincts were humming, a low thrum of unease.

“I felt… a great sadness from her… and danger.”

“An old acquaintance,”

Ray said, his mind racing. Kaelen had just delivered a warning. She had told him there were other, quieter threats in this place. The game was more complex than he knew.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep