Chapter 40: The Stage Is Set

Draekon stretched his arms overhead, feeling the satisfying pop of his shoulders as he surveyed the crowd milling around the academy courtyard. The air buzzed with pre-ceremony energy—students laughing, nervous chatter, the smell of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor cart mixing with the crisp morning breeze.

What's up with these suckers?

His eyes landed on the Sun Empire heirs, scattered throughout the courtyard like pieces of a broken formation.

And they were doing... common stuff.

Darius had set up a small wooden stall near the fountain, displaying handcrafted items arranged neatly on a cloth. Miniature swords with water flowing inside the carved blades, their binding runes glowing faintly. Wood-carved dragons with intricate scales. Small keychains shaped like phoenixes and griffins. ​

Students clustered around the stall, picking up items, examining them with genuine interest.

Beside him, Michael stood hunched over a small lockbox, counting coins with hollow cheeks and baggy eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days—

Draekon wandered closer, picking up one of the wooden swords. Water swirled inside the transparent resin blade like a miniature river trapped in glass. The craftsmanship was actually impressive—delicate runes etched along the hilt, the balance perfect despite being decorative.

"How much for this?" he asked, turning it over in his hand.

Darius looked up, recognition flickering in his tired eyes. "Five silver."

Draekon chuckled, fishing the coins from his pouch. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Darius said quietly, voice lacking its usual energy.

Draekon pocketed the wooden sword, his mind already running calculations. Does this even matter? It's just a trinket.

Still, he was tight on money himself. Couldn't spend too much after buying that gift for Serina. He had maybe a hundred gold left in his personal funds—enough to last the month if he was careful.

Let's see...

He turned, scanning the crowd for familiar faces, and immediately regretted it.

"Thank you so much, Ashen!"

Serina's voice cut through the ambient noise like a bell.

Draekon's gaze locked onto the scene unfolding near the academy's ornamental garden.

Serina stood there, holding her wrist up to the light, admiring a new bracelet. It had a sleek silver frame with ivory pearls embedded along the band, and—Draekon's eye twitched—dark energy visibly flowing through the gems like liquid shadow.​

Ashen stood across from her, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, white hair catching the sunlight. "It's good for mana regeneration," he muttered, voice low but audible. "Figured you'd need it with all the research you're doing."

Serina's cheeks flushed pink. "Thank you, but... I can't believe you got me something so expensive."

"Well, I had to," Ashen said quickly, his own face reddening. "As friends, I mean. I need to be... a good one."

Both of them blushed harder, standing there awkwardly, neither quite able to meet the other's eyes.

BLURFS—

Draekon doubled over, hand clamping over his mouth, stomach heaving.

"You okay, Draekon?!" Steve nearby—grabbed his shoulder. "Gods, are you vomiting?! Should I call—"

"No, I'm fine," Draekon gasped, waving him off. He straightened, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "I'm okay. Just... saw something too disgusting for human eyes."​

Friends. Right. Sure. That's what we're calling it now.

He forced himself to look away, scanning the crowd for literally anyone else to focus on.

The courtyard was packed now, students streaming toward the Grand Ceremonial Hall in waves. Draekon let himself get swept along with the current, picking out familiar faces as he moved.

Lyralei.

He saw her first—tall, unmistakable, black hair falling past her shoulders like a dark waterfall. She walked alone, expression blank.

Of course she's been avoiding me.

Ever since the Heart Duel, she'd treated him like he was the plague. Which... shouldn't have been the case, right? They'd both failed the conditions. The duel ended in a draw.

But she was acting like he'd done something unforgivable.

Am I doing something wrong?

Draekon's jaw tightened.

No. He wasn't.

But the butterfly effects kept stacking up. Events diverging from the game's script. Characters acting differently than they should. He couldn't rely on memorized dialogue options anymore—couldn't just pick the "right" response from a list and watch the affection meter tick upward.

He still knew their favorite foods, their hobbies, their backstories. But now he had to actually interact with them. Read social cues. Respond naturally.

I have to play it safe. No more risky moves until I understand how far things have derailed.

After all, the Romantic Quest line was critical to his survival.

He pulled up his quest log with a mental command, the translucent blue text appearing in the corner of his vision:

【QUEST LOG】

Main: Chapter 2 – I Choose You!!

Side: Build Harem [0/7] (FAILING)

-Lyralei Valen

-💢 [□□□□□□□□□□] 0/100 - Hostile/Avoidant

-Status: Grand Duke's Daughter, Agni's Fiancée

-Last Interaction: Heart Duel (Failed/Draw)

-Trend: ━ Stagnant

-Note: "Why does he keep looking at me like that?"

-Serina Frostwind: Upcoming

-Hidden: ???

Zero. Out. Of. Seven.

Draekon sighed, dismissing the screen.

One step at a time. Fix what you can fix. Starting with Serina.

The Grand Ceremonial Hall was massive—vaulted ceilings that stretched three stories high, enchanted chandeliers floating overhead like constellations of golden light. Rows of cushioned seats filled the space, enough for three hundred students easily, with room to spare.​

Friend groups clustered together naturally. Heirs sat with their respective factions. Commoners grouped near the back. Draekon found his spot with Serina, Ashen, Orange, Lara, and Steven.

He slid into his seat beside Serina, who was still fiddling nervously with the bracelet Ashen had given her.

"Congratulations," Draekon said, voice warm, genuine. "You're going to make a fine researcher. I'm sure of it."

Serina looked up, startled, cheeks still pink. "Oh—thank you! I just hope I don't mess it up—"

"You won't," Draekon said firmly. Then he reached into his bag, pulling out a carefully wrapped package. "And I believe this should help."

He placed it on her lap.

Serina blinked, staring at the bundle like it might explode. "Draekon, you didn't have to—"

"Just open it."

She did, fingers fumbling with the cloth wrapping. When the object inside was finally revealed, her eyes went wide.

A staff.

Not just any staff—it was carved from pale ashwood, inlaid with silver runes that pulsed faintly with mana. At the top, a spherical mana crystal sat cradled in a framework of woven metal, glowing softly with internal light.​

Serina's hands trembled as she lifted it. The moment her fingers closed around the shaft, the runes flared brighter, responding to her mana signature.

"It has mana storage built in," Draekon explained, watching her reaction carefully. "Small mana stones embedded throughout the structure. Should double what you can hold in your body."

Serina's breath caught. "Double...?"

Ding.

【RELATIONSHIP AFFINITY SYSTEM】

Serina Frostwind
💚 [■■■■■■■■□□] 75/100 - Warm/Grateful
Status: S-Class Researcher, Talent Advancement Program
Last Interaction: Gifted mana-storage staff
Trend: ▲ Increasing
Note: "He believes in me more than I believe in myself."

Alright. Draekon allowed himself a small smile. Now her Chain-Strike Quest should trigger soon. That'll be the next major string to tie down.

Ashen, sitting on her other side, looked between the bracelet on her wrist and the staff in her hands, his expression unreadable.

Professor Marcus's voice boomed across the hall, amplified by magic.

"Students! Please settle down!"

The crowd noise died like someone had flipped a switch.

Professor Marcus stood at the center of the raised stage, hands clasped behind his back, his face stern but not unkind. "Welcome to the Results Announcement Ceremony. I know you're all eager to learn your placements, so I won't waste time with long speeches."

Murmurs of relief rippled through the crowd.

"As you know," Marcus continued, "students will attend classes based on their individual scores—combat and theory. A student with C-Class combat and S-Class theory will attend both respective courses. Your class assignments are not permanent. Performance throughout the year will determine promotions or demotions."​

He paused, letting that sink in.

"This year, I'm pleased to announce that we have an unusually high number of S-Class placements. The quality of this year's freshmen is exceptional, and I look forward to teaching many of you personally."

Polite applause.

"Now," Marcus said, his voice taking on a more formal tone, "we will begin the reward ceremony for the top three rankers in both written and combat exams. Presenting the awards will be Priest Ingram of the Temple of Light."

A young man in white and gold robes stepped forward, his face lined with age but his eyes sharp and clear. He carried a velvet cushion bearing three medals.

"First," Marcus announced, consulting a glowing parchment in his hand, "combat results."

The hall went silent.

"Breaking the record previously held by Student Aurora..." He paused for effect. "Student Cassius of the Moon Empire. Six thousand, one hundred thirty-six points( 6,136 ). S-Class placement. First prize."

The crowd exploded.

Applause, cheers, gasps of awe. Students from the Moon Empire section stood, clapping wildly, shouting Cassius's name like he'd just won a war.

Cassius stood from his seat near the front, expression calm. He made his way to the stage with unhurried steps, white hair falling into his sharp grey eyes.

Priest Ingram smiled warmly as Cassius reached him. "You are capable, young one. Why such a worried face? Believe in yourself."

Cassius blinked, then frowned slightly. "I always believe in myself."

"Good," Ingram said simply, placing the Mithril medal—five inches in diameter, half an inch thick, suspended on a gold-threaded cord—around Cassius's neck.​

Cassius bowed slightly.

"Next," Marcus continued, "Student Aria. Two thousand, five hundred points."(2,500 points).

The focus shifted to Aria, who was still clapping enthusiastically for Cassius, her gaze following him with obvious mischief.

Professor Helena, standing off to the side, nodded approvingly. She made it into S-Class by splitting points from the encounter with Whisper Jr..

Aria stood, bowing deeply before approaching the stage. She received her Platinum medal with grace, her movements elegant, practiced.​

The Moon Empire heirs erupted in applause, their section of the hall a sea of clapping hands and approving nods.

Across the aisle, the Sun Empire section was noticeably quieter.

Michael, sitting with bags under his eyes so deep they looked like bruises, bit his fingers. "If we'd gotten those medals, we could've sold them for money," he hissed under his breath. "Damn it..."

He turned to Darius, voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. "Our ladies don't use their overwhelming strength in combat—only fit to use it in closed rooms."

Darius's face went pale. "Come on, man, I know you're upset, but don't dig your own grave!" He clamped a hand over Michael's mouth, glancing nervously toward where Lyralei sat.

Lyralei's black eyes locked onto them with a death stare so cold it could freeze fire.

Michael hissed like a feral animal, struggling against Darius's grip.​

"Third place," Marcus announced, "Student Serina. Two thousand, four hundred eighty points (2,480)."

The spotlight swung to Serina.

She froze.

Every head in the hall turned toward her.

Serina's face went from pale to bright red in the span of a heartbeat. She stood on shaky legs, stammering, "I—I'll do my best! I promise!"

Applause surrounded her, warm and genuine.

Draekon clapped beside her, grinning. Ashen joined in, his expression proud.

Serina stumbled toward the stage, received her Gold medal from Priest Ingram with trembling hands, and barely managed to bow, face steaming like a boiled lobster.​

"Now," Marcus said, "for the written exam results."

The hall tensed again.

"Student Draekon. Ninety-nine out of one hundred. A near-perfect score."

There it is.

Draekon stood smoothly, grin spreading across his face. That's how it's supposed to go.

He made his way to the stage, ignoring the stares, the whispers, the weight of hundreds of eyes.

Priest Ingram smiled as he approached, placing the Mithril medal around Draekon's neck. "You carry a great responsibility as the Hero of this generation. The Temple of Light will always have its doors open to you."

Draekon bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Priest Ingram."

His eyes caught Cassius's face on the stage.

The Moon Empire prince's expression twitched—just barely—before he forced it back into neutrality.

I can't wait to see your face when they call your name.

"Next," Marcus announced, "Student Cassius. Ninety-eight out of one hundred."

Cassius's face twitched again.

He stood, walked to the stage, and accepted his Platinum medal with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

This is unacceptable. That fucker didn't just ruin my entrance—he ruined my perfect record.

Draekon nodded approvingly from where he stood. Yeah. That's the look I wanted.​

"Third place," Marcus continued, "Student Serina. Ninety-five out of one hundred."

Serina again—still red, still steaming—and repeated mechanically, "I'll do my best!"

She received her second Gold medal, head bowed, completely fried from the attention overload.​

In the Sun Empire section, Suzzy chewed on an apple, voice muffled. "Moon Empire completely outclassed us. To think the only rank we got was third place—and by a commoner, no less."

Ignatia sat beside her, expression unchanged. "We gained ground as well. Serina's performance will bring massive support to our program. But yes... we need to save face. In His Majesty's absence, we can't afford to dishonor him."

Her heterochromia eyes flicked toward the stage, calculating.​

"This concludes the award ceremony," Professor Marcus announced. "And now... let the Freshers' Party commence!"

Cheers erupted throughout the hall—students leaping to their feet, applause thundering like a storm.

Music began playing from enchanted instruments floating near the ceiling. Tables laden with food materialized along the walls, spread with roasted meats, pastries, fruit arrangements, and glowing magical drinks.​

The celebration began in earnest.

Cassius stood motionless on the stage, staring out at the sea of students with unreadable eyes.

Roka stood from his seat, sneering. "Waste of time," he muttered, walking out.

Ashen sat with his hands pressed together, eyes closed, expression serene but distant.

Lyralei stared at the empty stage, face blank, thoughts hidden behind a mask of indifference.

And Draekon?

Draekon's Dragon's Bracelet flared with golden light, warmth flooding his veins.

His eyes sharpened, blue irises glowing faintly in the dim light.

Alright. The stage is set. Each character is on the floor.

He grinned, slow and confident.

But only the main character will take it all away.

Author Note:
I remember winning my first gold medal at chess tournament.