Chapter 199

The next day arrived wrapped in noise and color. The academy’s grand hall brimmed with excitement, a low hum of anticipation buzzing through the air like an exciting flash skill. Nearly everyone was energized by the ceremony, nearly everyone except Suri, who was being half-carried, half-dragged by Rin after a long night of patrol duty.

Kana glanced sideways at Rin as they walked. Her steps were steady, posture straight, breath unlabored as if Suri was light as a feather. Kana’s brow creased.

Why is her HP so high? Kana thought Rin was known to use several mind-type skills. 

Is she really a tank type? Kana wondered, the thought lingering like grit between her teeth.

After they seated, Kana gazed around and finally found them.. the boys were unexpectedly on the front row near the stage.

Then she looked at the stage. Of course.

“Good morning, fellow students.”

The voice was gentle, but it carried effortlessly across the hall, amplified by the enhancement stone embedded at the center of the stage. Elle York stood there, hands folded neatly, her smile bright enough to pull attention toward her like gravity. As usual, there was an odd liveliness to her presence, as though the air itself perked up when she spoke.

“We will begin today by awarding the prizes from fifth place to first place for the annual student tournament,” Elle continued. “Afterward, Principal Light will make an important announcement.”

A ripple of excitement ran through the hall.

“Let’s begin with our fifth-place reward, the [Zephyr Glove], will be received by Moth of Gick Town. Fourth year, Silver Class.”

A tall, lanky student rose from his seat and strode onto the stage with practiced ease. There was no nervousness in his movements, no hesitation. He had stood on stages like this before. Being part of the student council had its perks.

Principal Light handed over the glove. Moth bowed once, crisply, then departed without lingering.

“Our fourth-place reward is the [Staff of Eyner]. This will be received by Mica of Trek Town.”

The applause this time was noticeably weaker. Many in the audience knew it. Without the defeat at the hands of the Lightning Group, Mica’s team could have climbed higher. The what-if hung unspoken in the air.

Mica stepped onto the stage, shoulders drawn in, the wild sharpness she had shown in battle nowhere to be seen. She accepted the staff with a timid nod. Beside her, Shai looked like she might burst with pride, tail swaying back and forth.

Mica leaned in and whispered something to Elle.

Elle blinked, then smiled wider. “Mica’s—ah, I mean Shai’s group has decided to sell the staff. Those interested may speak with Mica and make an offer.”

A murmur rippled through the hall.

“Our third-place reward,” Elle continued, “the [Ancient Ring of Erat], will be received by Yuri of Mino Village.”

Yuri was already near the stage. She moved forward stiffly, posture formal, as if following invisible drill commands. She accepted the ring, forced a polite smile, bowed, and left without a second glance.

“She’s too stiff,” Suri muttered. “Just like Kana.”

“That’s normal,” Rin replied calmly. “What’s unusual is not being affected by anyone. Like you.”

She tilted her head. “And when did you wake up?”

Suri’s ear twitched. “Did you just insult me?”

“No,” Rin said quickly, patting Suri’s head. “That was a compliment.”

“For our second-place reward,” Elle announced, “the [Necklace of Zaul]. Received by Hig Floss, fourth year, Gold Class.”

Suri leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Look at that necklace. Looks like it won’t rust. Ever. That thing is crying right now.”

Kana raised a brow.

“It wants to be on my neck,” Suri finished solemnly.

Kana couldn’t entirely disagree. Dungeon items that were both powerful and beautifully crafted were rare. The necklace was thin, elegant, silver laced with a faint blue gleam whenever it caught the light. Kana remembered its effects clearly. Intelligence increased by ten. Mana regeneration boosted by twenty-five percent.

If the [Ancient Ring of Erat] didn’t exist she might still join the tournament because of [Necklace of Zaul].

“We should try to buy it from them,” Kana said suddenly.

Rin and Suri turned to her at the same time.

“You’re serious?” Rin asked.

“Who’s going to wear it?” Suri demanded.

Kana sighed, already tired. “You are, Suri.”

Suri’s posture straightened instantly. “No turning back on words.” Her grin sharpened. “I’ll get that guy’s secrets.”

Kana smacked the side of her head. “We’re buying it peacefully.”

“Just in case your plan doesn’t work,” Suri said cheerfully, “we’ll buy it my way.”

Kana paused, weighing the consequences. Rin noticed immediately and it might escalate to something else entirely.

She shook her head. “You do realize Principal Light can expel you from the academy, right?”

“Ohh…”

The sound rolled through the grand hall like a slow wave crashing against stone. It was not shouted, not cheered. The students were in awe. At the center of the stage, encased in a seamless shell of transparent glass, rested the spear of General Kavel.

Even unmoving, even sealed away, it dominated the space around it.

The shaft was dark, almost obsidian, threaded with faint crimson veins that pulsed slowly, like a sleeping heartbeat. The spearhead itself was long and narrow, forged into a shape that looked perfectly crafted.

Kana felt it before she fully registered the sight. A pressure behind her eyes. A subtle tightening in her chest. Not hostility. Not hunger. Authority.

This thing had been used to end battles.

She exhaled slowly.

A dungeon item. No doubt about it.

Not the kind meant for a standard [Spearman], either. The description alone made that clear. If evolved classes truly existed, then this weapon would only acknowledge someone who had crossed that threshold. An evolved type of [Spearman]. 

Requirement: Insufficient level

Kana still remembered the last part of the description. The [Appraiser] probably had not enough level to view it.

Which explained everything.

The northern fortress hadn’t donated it out of generosity. They had donated it because no one could wield it.

A powerful spear with no hand worthy of holding it was little more than an expensive relic. Better to place it in the academy, where it could inspire, intimidate, and quietly remind everyone of what true power looked like. Or maybe they were hoping someone would use the spear eventually.

“This year’s first-place reward,” Elle announced, her voice careful, respectful, “will be received by Anti Skill Group!.”

Several students stepped forward together, Chelle Pint among them. The moment the glass casing was removed, the change was immediate. The air seemed to thicken. Even the enhancement stones hummed faintly, reacting to the dungeon item’s presence.

Chelle grunted as she tried to lift it.

Her arms trembled, boots scraping slightly against the polished floor as she adjusted her grip. Two others hurried to help stabilize the shaft, their faces tight with strain. Even divided between them, the spear looked reluctant to be moved, as though the ground itself objected to letting it go.

The crowd watched in rapt silence.

Kana’s ear twitched. She swore she could hear Boris badmouthing her for not choosing the spear.

……

Principal Light stepped to the center of the stage.

For a brief moment, the noise of the hall seemed to soften around him, as if even the walls had learned to listen. His white hair fluttered when he turned, catching the light, and with it he looked every bit the ancient scholar pulled from a history tome. Not frail. Seasoned. The kind of man whose words tended to leave marks.

He cleared his throat.

“This generation of students,” he began, voice steady and unhurried, “is… quite talented. And very smart.”

A ripple moved through the crowd. Pride, suspicion, curiosity. Praise from the principal was never given lightly.

“We have spent a great deal of time asking ourselves a question,” he continued. “What can we do better? How do we properly guide the current generation, and those who will follow after you?”

He paused, letting the silence stretch.

“Thanks to certain students,” he said at last, “we have finally arrived at an answer.”

Kana cursed softly under her breath.

She didn’t need [High Awareness] for this. She felt it. That subtle shift in attention. That brief, unmistakable glance angled just slightly toward her section of the hall.

“As you all know,” Principal Light went on, “the first-year copper-class students have shattered our existing class structure.”

Murmurs broke out immediately.

“They possess fewer classes,” he said, raising a hand to calm the noise, “and yet, for reasons we can no longer ignore, they have risen to the top. Physical classes. Non-physical classes. Every one of them is a badge holder. And from among them came two gold badges.”

The murmurs grew louder.

“Because of this,” he continued, unfazed, “we anticipate that future enrollees may attempt the same strategy. Intentionally performing poorly in the first assessment in order to enter a lower class and take advantage of freedom there.”

Kana exhaled slowly through her nose.

So they did notice.

“Therefore,” Principal Light said, voice firming like stone set into place, “effective immediately, students will no longer be allowed to request a class change on their own.”

A wave of shock rippled through the hall.

“Instead,” he said, “class changes will occur once a year. Officially. Under academy supervision.”

Somewhere behind Kana, someone muttered a curse.

“And that is not all.”

The hall quieted again, tension tightening like a drawn bowstring.

“Beginning next year,” Principal Light announced, “we will introduce a new class.”

He let the words hang for a heartbeat.

“It will be called the Mythril Class.”

The reaction was immediate. Gasps. Whispers. Sharp intakes of breath.

“This class will consist of only twenty students,” he continued, “selected from the top twenty rankings of each year.”

“There are… perks,” Principal Light added, and for the first time, a faint smile touched his lips. “One of them is freedom. Mythril-class students will not be required to attend regular classes, so long as they pass the examinations on exam day.”

That did it.

The hall erupted.

Freedom in the academy was rarer than dungeon items. Even nobles leaned forward now, eyes burning with interest.

“Oh,” he added calmly, as if discussing seating arrangements, “next year’s copper class will have more classes than silver. Gold class will have fewer classes than silver.”

The chaos somehow intensified.

Kana rubbed her temple.

So not only did they close the loophole, they reinforced it with spikes.

“Make sure to read the updated student handbook before enrolling next year,” Principal Light concluded. “That will be all.”

He stepped back.

The hall exploded into noise.

“That’s… complicated,” Rin muttered beside Kana, staring blankly at the stage. “I don’t think I can even make it to gold class anymore. And now there’s Mythril?”

Kana almost let out a chuckle

If the copper-class students truly understood what they had already become, they wouldn’t be worried about gold or silver. They were already stronger than most third- and fourth-year students. The level gap was probably five or more levels.

They noticed us after all. Was it back then? When they purposely almost fail every assessment.

Getting more freedom might be good news but getting more attention was always bad news.. But Kana realized they were for some reason getting a lot of attention even in copper class.

When did that start to happen?

Post note:
Kana's wish will be shown soon(decided to break the scene with the king)

Not just Kana. Looks like all the trio will get promotion class soon?
Happy holidays!
Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂