Inside, the seating arrangement was a perfect map of the family’s current tension. Garret sat stiff-backed and brooding; Isolde was poised and quietly judgmental; and little Niva alternated between staring out the window and hugging Ray’s arm like a barnacle.
Across from them sat Elaine Avery. Even in a moving carriage, her posture was perfect. Her traveling gown shimmered with silver thread, catching the light with every breath she took. The silence between the houses was thick, but Elaine broke it with the practiced ease of a natural diplomat.
“We should discuss what awaits you at the Academy,” she said, folding her hands over her lap. “It is best to understand the landscape before we arrive.”
Garret grunted, his gaze fixed on the passing forest. “Landscape meaning nobles with too much pride.”
“And too little thought,” Isolde added, her voice sharp as a needle.
Elaine’s smile remained polite. “I wouldn’t disagree.”
Niva tugged on Ray’s sleeve, her eyes wide. “Will it be pretty?”
“Beautiful,” Elaine assured her, her voice softening. “Old stone towers. Grand halls. Training grounds that have shaped heroes for centuries.”
Ray leaned in, his "Gamer HUD" practically begging for more lore. “What about the divisions? Father said there were several.”
Elaine nodded, her expression becoming more academic. “There are four main branches: Knight, Mage, Scholar, and the Engraver Division.”
Isolde arched a brow, a flicker of pride crossing her face. “I will be entering the Mage Division.”
Ray blinked. Isolde rarely volunteered information unless it served to remind him of her superiority. “And you’re in the Knight Division?” Ray asked Garret.
Garret just gave a non-committal grunt, but the answer was obvious.
“Most noble heirs are in the Knight Division—close-range fighters,” Elaine explained. “There are some like Isolde who can manipulate energies outside their bodies through the use of external sigils, but they are not as common as knights.”
“So, long-range casters with wide-area effects?” Ray puffed out his chest. Finally, something he understood—Range classes vs. Melee.
“More or less,” Elaine said. “And then… there are the Engravers.”
Her smile didn’t waver, but Ray saw a glint in her eye that made his spine tingle.
“Some of the most brilliant minds in history came from that division. Their methods are… unconventional, but effective. There are no barriers to joining—status and wealth mean nothing there. If the talent is discovered, the Academy takes them. Knights are as common as rocks on the road, Mages are a gold mine, but Engravers are diamonds.”
Garret stretched his legs, a smirk playing on his lips. “Ray’s on the Knight path. So he’s a rock on the road.”
“You’re a knight too, so don’t talk!” Ray snapped back.
Garret scowled, and Ray immediately deflated, remembering his brother’s "Synchronization" from the festival. He wasn't just a rock; he was a very small pebble compared to Garret.
Elaine continued, her tone becoming more serious. “Noble heirs begin training young, but the Academy formalizes it. You will be surrounded by rivals whose houses expect nothing less than excellence. Alliances are formed there, Ray. Reputations are built—and failures are remembered.”
Ray swallowed hard. The "Academy Arc" was starting to sound less like a fun school setting and more like a high-stakes PvP zone.
Niva offered him a small, wilted flower she’d been hiding in her palm. “For luck, Ray-Ray.”
He nearly melted, his nerves softening for a brief moment. “Thank you, Niva.”
Elaine watched the exchange, her expression softening by a fraction.
Then—
Tap-tap.
The carriage slowed, the heavy rhythm of the road breaking. A muffled, melodic voice called from outside, “Lady Avery! Update!”
Elaine lifted the curtain with delicate fingers. Outside, riding a pristine white mare with effortless balance, was a woman who looked more like a moving treasure chest than a soldier.
Ray’s jaw nearly hit the floor. He was used to the "Heavy Armor" meta of the Melborne knights—all dented plate and scarred leather. Sera Lorne was the opposite. Her ash-gray hair was a cascade of gold clips and gemstone pins that caught the sunlight in tiny starbursts.
It wasn't just a few rings, either. Her fingers were adorned with bands of delicate filigree, some set with teardrop emeralds that pulsed with a faint, internal light. Multiple bracelets—gold bangles, silver chains, and even a string of iridescent pearls—chimed softly against her wrists as she held the reins. Most striking were the small, rhythmic bells attached to her boots and the jeweled clasps at her belt that looked more like artifacts than accessories.
Sera Lorne. Elaine’s personal knight.
“Sera,” Elaine said. “Report.”
Sera bowed atop her horse, her jewelry chiming like a soft, expensive wind chime. “The road ahead is clear, my lady,” she said, her voice like silk. “No bandit traces, no beasts. The next village is two hours out.”
Garret whispered under his breath, “How does she fight in all that gear? The jingle alone would give her away.”
Sera’s golden eyes flicked toward the carriage window, her pupils narrowing with a predatory focus that made the jewelry feel suddenly like a threat. “I don’t get hit,” she said lightly. “And the chime? It lets them know exactly where their death is coming from. Problem solved.”
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Garret shut his mouth. Ray exhaled as the curtain fell, stunned by the sheer "flashiness" of the woman.
“Why does she have so much jewelry on her?” Ray asked.
“She likes jewelry,” Elaine offered with a tiny, amused smile. “She says the weight of the gold helps her keep her balance. And she finds the sound... meditative.”
As the carriage continued, Ray began to notice the pattern. Sera wasn't just "flashy"; she was meticulous. Every time the wheels skipped over uneven stone, she materialized at the window. Her bells, which chimed with her horse's stride, fell into an eerie, absolute silence whenever her eyes locked onto the treeline.
She wasn't a guard; she was a falcon watching over a nest.
“Does she always act like that?” Ray whispered.
“She is meticulous,” Elaine said, not looking up from her book.
“She’s paranoid,” Garret muttered.
“No,” Elaine corrected. “She is… invested, and she has made an oath to me.”
Ray felt Sera’s gaze sweep over him—a cold, measuring weight. It didn't feel hostile, but it certainly wasn't friendly. She was a beautiful, jingling shield, and Ray suddenly realized she would eviscerate anything that so much as breathed wrong in Elaine’s direction.
Elaine lifted the curtain a second time. “Sera.”
The knight appeared instantly, as if she had been riding in a blind spot just inches away. “Yes, my lady?”
Elaine slipped a folded note between her fingers—discreet and precise. Sera read it in a glance, a faint, sharp smile touching her lips that made her gemstone earrings dance. “At once.”
She tucked the paper into a jeweled clasp at her waist and galloped ahead, her bells chiming softly as she vanished into the dust.
“What… was that about?” Ray whispered.
Elaine didn’t look up. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Ray leaned his head against the carriage window, watching the trees blur past. His heart buzzed with a ridiculous, familiar anticipation.
The Academy Arc...
In every game he’d ever played, this was where the real plot ignited. He could practically see the quest log updating in his mind:
- Mini-Arc #1: Survive the "Welcome Ceremony" (and the inevitable noble insult).
- Mini-Arc #2: Earning the "Special Training Quest" from a mysterious professor.
- Mini-Arc #3: The "Field Trip" (someone always cries).
- Mini-Arc #4: The "Midterm Tournament"—his big power showcase.
Ray grinned to himself. Actually, I already have the smug rival. Rowen Vernhard. The guy practically lived for marble pillars and dramatic declarations. He’d already issued the challenge; all Ray had to do now was show up at the Academy and deliver the inevitable beatdown. It was the perfect setup for a "Rank Up" quest.
Ray grinned to himself. Bring it on. He had been preparing for this his entire second life.
As the sun dipped low and shadows stretched across the trail, the carriage finally slowed. “We camp here!” the driver called.
Ray stepped out into the clearing. The air was crisp, smelling of pine and damp earth. A small firepit crackled to life as servants unpacked supplies with practiced speed. Sera returned from her final patrol, her jewelry whispering with each step, and took her place behind Elaine with the quiet vigilance of a hunting hound.
Garret barked orders at the servants pitching tents, clearly enjoying the authority. Isolde sat near the fire, her face illuminated by the flickering orange light as she flipped through a tome. Niva, seemingly immune to the tension, sat in the dirt arranging pebbles into tiny circles.
Ray sat on a fallen log, watching sparks drift upward like dying stars. Elaine approached, hands clasped behind her back.
“You seem deep in thought,” she said.
Ray straightened his posture (instinctively, now). “Just… thinking about tomorrow. And the Academy. And whether I’ll embarrass myself.”
“You will,” Garret snorted from across the fire. Ray threw a pebble at him; Garret dodged it without even looking up.
Elaine hid a small smile. “Embarrassment is temporary. Reputation can be shaped. You will grow into your place. You did fine with your assessment back at the estate, so you should do fine at the Academy.”
“Really?” Ray asked, his "Protagonist Resolve" flickering with hope.
“Of course,” Elaine replied. “What you did back at the estate was essentially a preliminary evaluation. A mock test. The Academy’s methods are similar—just harsher.”
“That… actually helps,” Ray admitted.
Sera tilted her head, her gemstone earrings dancing. “Confidence comes with experience. And pain. Preferably someone else’s.”
Ray still couldn’t tell if the jewelry-clad knight was joking, but before he could ask, Niva ran over and proudly held up her pebble circle. “Look! It’s a flower!”
“It’s beautiful,” Elaine said warmly, her detachment melting for a brief, genuine second.
Ray smiled. For a moment, the war, the "Academy Arc," and the crushing weight of the Melborne name felt far away. He was just a boy by a fire with his family.
Then—
Rustle.
A faint sound from the treeline.
Ray’s head snapped up.
Another rustle. Louder. Leaves shivered. Garret straightened, hand instantly on his practice sword. Isolde shut her book, her posture stiffening into a brittle line.
Sera’s jewelry chimed as she stepped forward, her body dropping into a state of perfect, predatory balance.
“Sera?” Elaine’s expression hardened.
“Multiple signatures,” Sera’s voice dropped, turning cold. “Fast. Closing in.”
The servants froze mid-motion. The rustling swelled into a chorus of snarling, and suddenly, eyes appeared—dozens of yellow eyes cutting through the dark forest. A pack of beasts burst from the trees, claws tearing the ground as they charged.
Ray’s heart thundered in his chest. This was it.
Then—
Ping.
A system window snapped open before him, glowing with an impossible blue light:
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
QUEST: FIRST WAVE
Objective: Defend the camp from the Beast Swarm.
Reward: Skill Unlocked — [Analyze]
Failure: Injury or death.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Ray stared, his breath catching. A skill. His first real skill.
Around him, the camp exploded into a practiced, defensive rhythm. The Melborne guards didn't hesitate; they moved as a single, iron-clad unit, boots thumping against the dirt as they formed a tight semi-circle around the wagons. Shields were slammed into the earth, and the sharp shing of steel being drawn echoed through the clearing. Two guards took the flanks, torches held high to push back the shadows, while the others leveled their spears toward the surging yellow eyes.
Sera drew a pair of slender blades decorated with diamond-like edges, her jewelry ringing softly as she moved. “Lady Avery, stay behind me.”
Elaine nodded, sigils already flickering beneath her sleeves. Garret barked, “Ray! Don’t you dare—”
Ray wasn’t listening. His hands trembled, but something inside him clicked—a feeling of inevitability. This was it. His first real fight. His first real progression. His first real step into this world.
The beasts lunged.
Ray stepped forward.