ALL NOVEL Chapter 31 – Trouble in Orientation
The ground beneath us trembled slightly as the golden sandboard slid to a stop, letting us land right in front of the academy’s grand entrance. The towering spires of the castle loomed above us, catching our attention and casting shadows over the courtyard.
“Made it just in time,” Iaskin chuckled, but there wasn’t much time to appreciate the sight.
“Better hurry up,” Riasmin’s sharp voice cut through. She glanced at me, nudging me toward the hall where Nebula was already running toward. “Go on. We’ll catch up after the speech.”
I gave a quick nod, and with that, Nebula and I rushed ahead, leaving behind Riasmin, Iaskin, Lilian, and Mirella. The grand doors of the hall swung open as we slipped inside, the low murmur of hundreds of students buzzing around us.
We joined the sea of bodies that filled the vast hall. A few hundred students from all corners of the continent stood shoulder to shoulder, each dressed in their finest robes or armor, their family crests gleaming under the soft light of the chandelier. This was the type of place where people with bland outfits stood out, rather than those with expensive ones. Indeed, I noticed a few commoners among the crowd, and the nobles were already looking down at them.
They’ll have to get used to that, I noted as I looked around more. The architecture was more impressive than anything I remembered from Iskandaar’s memories. Perhaps only the Imperial Castle would be able to match it?
Vaulted ceilings arched high above, and intricate carvings lined the walls, depicting scenes from ancient battles. The sheer scale of the place seemed to announce that – this wasn’t a mere school. It was a fortress of knowledge, a hub of power. A Legendmaker.
I heaved out a sigh, feeling the weight of expectations in the air. All around us, noble kids stood tall with their heads held high, exuding arrogance, pride, or, in some cases, sheer intimidation. I didn’t feel intimidated, but my fiance seemed a little worried, she was sweating.
“Relax, they’re just kids,” I told her, although I doubt that helped. She just ignored me, and I shrugged, returning to observe the area.
In this place, one could spot the children of Dukes from a mile away. The ones with different nations’ royal bloodlines? Even further. One figure, in particular, caught everyone's attention— a tall, elegant girl with skin as pale as moonlight and a long, serpentine body coiled beneath her.
“Hard not to feel nervous in the presence of people like her. That’s… the Naga Princess,” Nebula whispered next to me. “From the distant continent in the southeast. I’ve heard stories about her people.”
My eyes flicked toward the Naga as she made her way through the crowd, her golden eyes glinting like jewels in the dim light. She wasn’t trying to draw attention— she didn’t need to. People naturally stared at her, too fascinated or perhaps too terrified to do anything else.
“Yeah, I guess,” I muttered, though rather than nervous I merely felt curious. I was aware of her story, she wasn’t as scary as she looked. About then, the sound of an old man clearing his throat filled the hall. Everyone glanced up at the stage where an old man stood. When did he get there?
His beard was long and white, like freshly fallen snow, and his robe shimmered with an intricate pattern. He wore a small, easygoing smile, yet his presence commanded the attention of every soul in the room.
[Level 175]
That was… the Principal. Ardath Valenwood.
Crossing the 3rd Ascension meant I could peek into the level of people five ascensions above me. Starting Level 150, was the 8th Ascension, and so my [Insight] skill could see his level. Number wise alone he was powerful—very powerful.
“Welcome, students, to the Waybound Academy.” As the crowd settled, the Principal’s deep, booming voice filled the hall. “Today, we…” He began with the usual stuff—honor, duty, the importance of respect between local and foreign students, and other boring stuff. The words rolled off me as my mind wandered.
Nebula, though, hung on to every word, watching the Principal like a hawk. Her posture was perfect, as always. I glanced sideways at her, then back at the Principal. She’s so stiff, gosh. My attention drifted to the students around us. Some whispered amongst themselves, still stealing glances at the Naga Princess, while others looked tense, anxious about what was to come.
“Students from all across the continent, and even beyond, have come here. It is my honor to greet you young seeds, brimming with the desire to learn. In Waybound, no matter if you’re a [Mage], [Knight], [Alchemist], or anything similar, we have guidance for you,” the old man said, smiling at the student body.
The Principal’s speech dragged on, and I tried to pay some attention. A minute later, I found myself growing bored again. Why was I going through some school speech again? With an internal sigh, my thoughts shifted to what lay ahead. What would this place throw at me?
…I clenched my jaw slightly, remembering what I was here for. The clock was ticking. My eyes began to drift again, and this time with purpose. I was trying to spot a patch of reddish-orange hair, but I couldn’t find it.
“And now,” the Principal’s voice cut through my thoughts, finally moving on from the boring parts. I would like to recognize a select few among you—students who have earned a Letter of Recommendation due to their exceptional talents and skills.”
The crowd murmured as he gestured for those with letters to come forward. I cleared my throat, moving from my spot.
Nebula blinked, startled. “Where are you going?”
I paused and looked at her. So her father really didn’t tell her? “Well,” I pulled out a letter from my pocket, giving it a little wave as she stared blankly. “Remember when you asked if I was worried about the entrance exam?”
She stared at me, her eyes blank. I left her behind, making my way toward the stage. I walked through the crowd, and the eyes of dozens— no, hundreds— of students followed me, curiosity and confusion mixing on their faces.
I reached the stage, watching four other students step forward. Each of them held a distinct air about it. All of them were characters I recognized, people I knew from another lifetime. They exuded a sense of confidence, power, and mystery. Even amongst the elite, the Naga Princess stood tall—literally. Her towering, serpentine body coiled around itself as she moved up to the stage, stealing the attention from the others without even trying.
The crowd murmured, whispering about the Naga Princess and the other recommended students including myself. I felt a few eyes still lingering on me, confused as to why I was standing among these fine people. Not that it bothered me. I was used to it, and it was amusing.
I reached the stage first, joined by Prince Alaric Roshmar, who shot me a calculative look. The Naga Princess was next, and two others joined us right away. I couldn’t help but wonder how this would all play out.
“Great, all five are here,” the Principal’s voice rang out, cutting through the low hum of murmurs in the hall, as he took a look at us. “These are the students who have earned the Academy’s prestigious Letters of Recommendation. I am sure you all know what that entails. This is the first time in the Academy’s history that five students have received it in a single year. So allow me to introduce them to you, although I’m sure they’d make themselves known soon regardless.”
His hand gestured toward the first student in line—Alaric Roshmar. The youngest prince of the Roshmar Kingdom stood tall, his sharp features set in a calm, confident expression. His presence exuded authority and control, and he exuded royal composure. These gossip-loving nobles indulged in whispers immediately, the name Roshmar causing a stir among the students.
“Alaric Roshmar,” the Principal announced, “Prince of Roshmar and master of enchantment magic.”
Alaric’s cool demeanor didn’t falter under the weight of their stares. He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, but his eyes remained steady, scanning the crowd as if already judging them. The crowd continued to murmur, impressed by the foreign prince’s reputation.
The Principal moved on. “Next, Solara Fenixia, Duchess of the Phoenix Duchy.”
The girl who stood beside Alaric had hair that shimmered in shades of orange and red, as if aflame. My eyes remained locked on her for a long minute.
Behind her, a pair of fiery orange wings were folded, their feathers catching the light. Ironically, her expression was calm, placid, as if she were made of ice. She met the eyes of those watching her, but the weight of her gaze hinted at something deeper that none of these students had.
Solara Fenixia. The last of her kind, a human with phoenix blood, the sole surviving member of the Fenexia Duchy, and therefore the Duchess of Fenixia, although that title was as good as nothing now. The crowd of students, mostly nobles, had definitely heard her story before. They whispered at the sight of the once profound family’s last blood, though this time there was a sense of awe mixed with caution.
The Principal’s voice continued. “From the distant lands beyond the endless sea in the southeast, I present Princess Sathari Nezehra of the Naga Kingdom.”
The Naga girl slithered forward, her serpentine-lower body moving gracefully. Her scales gleamed a deep purple, almost black in some places, giving her an aura of power and mystery. Long, sleek green hair cascaded down her back, and her golden eyes glinted as she surveyed the students before her.
Her presence was dominating, as her snake tongue flicked out as if tasting the air. The crowd didn’t seem to know what to make of her, and tension rose in the room as people exchanged glances. Her exotic appearance alone set her apart from the rest, but it was the way she moved—silent, like a machine—that left an impression.
“And now,” the Principal’s gaze shifted to the young man beside me who I’d been trying to ignore. “The Crown Prince of Ethenia.”
The hall practically erupted.
The prince stepped forward, and cheers instantly filled the room, especially from the girls in the crowd. He had blonde hair that seemed to shine like gold, and his entire presence screamed royalty. He wore his status like a cloak, and with a confident grin, he waved to the audience.
“Orion Ethenar, Crown Prince of the Ethenia Empire,” the Principal confirmed.
“Oh my god, he’s so… he’s so dreamy!”
The girls cheered louder, a few of them blushing as they watched him. He had the kind of princely charm you’d expect from a storybook hero, and the way the students fawned over him was almost comical. This… was what I meant when I complained about the academy setting in that bad review of mine.
Wasn’t this—
“Ah, I am imagining a naughty, adulterous relationship with the future Emperor… kyah~! Someone stop me!”
“....”
Wasn’t this too much? Even if he was the prince, the Main Character of Arcane Crown.
“Thank you, everyone,” the prince bowed a little and backed off with a charming smile. I watched him silently.
Usually in stories, games, or novels, the protagonist was someone who struggled. However, this guy had everything good going for him. He was not some youngest prince struggling for the throne, not someone with weak powers, not someone ugly… This was one of my complaints when playing the game. He was too perfect from the beginning.
Finally, the Principal’s gaze landed on me, forcing me to focus. “And lastly, Iskandaar Romani, the third son of the Romani Family, and… the grandson of Sikandar of Erebia.”
The moment my name left his mouth, the cheering and excitement died down. I watched, a little disappointed as silence spread across the hall like a thick fog. I could hear the questions in their stares as students exchanged confused glances, unsure why I was standing with the rest of them.
“The Romani Trash?” someone whispered.
“Even if he’s the grandson of Sikandar, why is he there? His siblings didn’t get a Letter,” another person said, sounding like he was losing his mind.
I caught a few glares, a few sneers, but I kept my head high, standing tall amongst the others. The other recommended students didn’t react much, keeping their expressions composed. All except for the Naga princess, Sathari. She tilted her head slightly, her snake tongue flicking out again, her eyes sparkling with confusion. Even Alaric kept track of things in Ethenia, but since she was from too far a land, she must be confused about why people were hating on me.
I heard a soft murmur from the crowd below. “Hey, isn’t he kinda handsome though? He doesn’t fall short standing beside the prince.”
“Shh!” Came a harsh reply from beside the girl, probably her friend. “That’s the Romani Trash! Sure, he looks good, but how can he compare to the prince? Your taste in men is gross.”
Another girl spoke up, her voice quieter. “Didn’t you hear about the incident with him and the Carlstein young master? They were framing the Romani young master. Maybe he’s not as bad as the rumors say…”
“Shut up, commoner girl.”
I ignored them. I’d heard worse, and their opinions didn’t matter. Although it did bother me that someone who defended me got insulted. I breathed in. I was here for a reason, so let’s stay calm. Let them murmur. Let them wonder. It was none of my concern.
“These five, regardless of what some of you might think of them, have been recommended by important people,” The Principal continued speaking, and he followed it by listing off our achievements, our noble backgrounds, and our potential. However, when it came to me, he mentioned my grandfather and mother more than my own achievements—as I practically had none. Most students seemed to accept that each of us had earned our place—except for me. I could still feel the lingering doubt in the room.
“Let us move on to the important part now,” the Principal’s voice rose once more, “aside from these five, the rest of the students will undergo the academy’s entrance test.”
Before the students could react, he raised his hand, and a soft glow enveloped the stage. “Good luck, everyone.” Beneath the students in the crowd, a massive magic circle lit up, its intricate runes spinning as energy surged beneath the floor. The students began to vanish one by one, teleported away to undergo the test.
I watched as they disappeared, leaving only us, the recommended students, standing on stage. There was a moment of silence as we remained behind, the faint hum of magic still in the air.
It didn’t take long for one of the recommended students to break the silence. It was awkward to just stand beside each other in silence, after all. However, it bothered me who had spoken.
The Crown Prince, Orion, turned to me with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, Romani, I hear you’re a bit of a mystery. Odd growth rate and stuff. What’s up with that?” His tone was light and playful, but there was an edge to it. “A former trash, now standing here with the best of us. Quite the story.”
I met his gaze, unbothered. “Something like that.”
He chuckled, “How interesting,” and stared at me for a moment.
I shrugged, glancing at the fading glow of the teleportation magic. “You could say that.”
I didn’t want to get close to him. He was the ultimate reason why the Romani Family fell in the game. Sure, the main cause was one of the girls he would be with in the future, but he could have prevented it if he wanted to. But he didn’t bother to. He was the type of person I disliked.
We stood there in silence, waiting for the other students to return, their fates now determined by the academy’s entrance trial, while mine was determined by the kids around me. This world’s fate hung on their, and consequently my own, shoulders.
****
We stood there in silence for a while, the air heavy with anticipation. A few minutes passed before the first wave of students began to return. One by one, flashes of mana filled the hall, and students reappeared in clusters, some clutching their sides, others barely able to stand. Their complexion was pale, and their faces showed signs of strain.
It was evident that the entrance test had been challenging.
Along with their returning forms, a number formed over their heads.
[200]
[330]
[600]
It increased as time passed. I scanned the students, looking for someone. She didn’t appear. It took a long time, until finally, Nebula emerged from the glow, her clothes splattered with blood. She was breathing heavily, but there were no visible injuries.
The number [9,200] hovered above her head, glowing faintly in the air.
I felt a sense of relief seeing her standing, although I knew she’d have been fine regardless. The students were teleported to a magically simulated battlefield, where they were granted points based on how many monsters they managed to kill.
Above each student, their final scores floated like judgment in the air. Most of them had numbers under 5,000, with only a few managing to push past that. Nebula’s score was the highest by far, her sheer willpower and abilities shining through.
However, the majority of the students were clearly overworked. The exhaustion, the injuries, the struggle—they had all been pushed to their limits. Even Nebula was panting for breath.
Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out from the crowd.
“Why… why didn’t he have to take the test?!”
I glanced toward the source, narrowing my eyes. It was a boy with purple, slit pupils and short black hair. I recognized him: Kael Drakovar, the youngest son of the Black Draconia Duke. He had fiery eyes and an arrogant posture. The little draconic blood in his heritage was clear in the slitted pupils and faint scales around his temples.
The number [7,450] floated above his head.
“That’s Iskandaar Romani!” the boy snarled, his voice filled with venom. “I’ve heard about him. He’s a loser who couldn’t even walk a year ago!” His words pierced through the hall, and the tension that had been simmering finally reached a boil.
Murmurs spread through the room like wildfire. Confusion gave way to hostility as students began to glare in my direction, whispers turning to angry demands. The atmosphere thickened with distrust and jealousy, the same old story replaying itself in a new setting.
“True, why didn’t he have to take the test?”
“Who gave him a recommendation?”
“I knew it. That is the Romani trash.”
I sensed their gazes on me, the burden of their assessment bearing down. The murmurs had grown audible, enough for even the Principal to visibly squirm. Despite this, he chose not to step in. Maybe he was curious to see how the situation would unfold. I could understand that. Even the professors, observing from the upper level of the mansion, hidden behind shadows and only visible to my Demonic Sphere, appeared invested.
The tension was intense, and I could sense the hostility growing with each passing second. My hand twitched at my side, but I kept my face calm, refusing to react. I’d been through this before. The weight of failed expectations, the sneers of those who thought they knew me.
But just as the atmosphere threatened to spiral completely out of control, prompting me to part my lips, a soft cough echoed through the hall. The feminine voice cut through the noise like a blade.
The murmurs ceased almost instantly, as every head in the room turned toward the source.
A figure stepped forward, her movements slow. It was a tall and graceful woman with an undeniable presence. Her purple eyes gleamed beneath the soft glow of the hall’s lights as her light brown hair cascaded down her back.
“Uh, who’s that?” someone whispered.
“Do you live under a rock? That’s the Chancellor, Amelia the Dragon… whoa, she’s gorgeous.” Another voice replied as if she was ready to fall to her knees.
Amelia Duskleaf.
The Chancellor of the Waybound Academy.
The woman had lied to me that time when she showed me her Professor ID. She wasn’t some mere professor, even if she indeed taught Dragon Tongue Magic—to the zero students who could learn it. In truth, her position was much higher in the Academy.
An 8th Ranked Mage, renowned across the continent for her mastery of Dragon Tongue Magic. She’d been the academy’s chancellor for decades, one of the powerhouses that kept the city safe. Her reputation wasn’t just built on power, in fact, the Principal was slightly stronger than her despite being lower positioned. She held this position for multiple more reasons.
She made her way to the stage, her steps unhurried, yet resonated with authority. Reaching the front, she stopped, her calm expression never wavering as she addressed the room.
“The letter,” she began, her voice clear and firm, as she smiled, “was given to him by… me. After I’ve assessed him worthy of it.”
In response to those heavy words of implications, only thick and suffocating silence followed. The murmurs died immediately as her gaze swept across the students, her eyes narrowing as if daring anyone to challenge her.
“Does anyone have any objections?” she asked, her tone still soft, but the weight of her question undeniable.
No one dared speak.
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, the once fiery anger of the students doused by the sheer presence of the Chancellor. The Draconia boy, who had been so vocal moments earlier, now stood frozen in place, his mouth slightly agape, his earlier bravado nowhere to be found.
A boy chosen by the Dragon herself. How could he be trash?
The Principal remained silent, watching the exchange with an unreadable expression. Even the professors above seemed to step back, their own whispers gone. No one was willing to argue with an 8th-ranked Mage, who was also their chancellor.
Amelia’s gaze lingered on the crowd for a moment longer before she smiled. “I’m glad,” she said, "However, I understand that my words alone may not be sufficient to please all of you. With that in mind, I’ve prepared a small test for the recommended students too."
Ah, this was the part she had told me about in the letter. I held back a smile.
