…Looks like my academy life is already screwed.

At first, I denied it.

‘Does this even make sense!?’

I wanted to shout it out loud, but I hated drawing attention, so I just bottled the anger up inside.

This can’t be happening. How could I possibly be in the Combat class?

The Combat class is for guys like that one over there—full of muscle and obviously strong at a glance!

‘Yeah, the card must be broken. Right?’

There had to be a mistake. A card malfunction was my last hope. I went back to that instructor with the long blond hair and said,

“The card is broken, Instructor.”

I spoke in a low voice.

The reply I got was, “That’s not possible, student.” The instructor was firm.

I hated making a scene and drawing attention, but this was about my entire academy life. If I didn’t fix this now, there wouldn’t be another chance.

I gritted my teeth and asked for one more. A few students and instructors looked at me. Uncomfortable.

The instructor reluctantly gave me a new card. I stood right there and waited another 10 seconds…

“Same result. Damn it.”

No change in the result.

No escape. I was assigned to the Combat class.

I was pissed.

‘Why the hell me?’

To explain myself—I’m a member of the Blackfire family, long known for dark magic. My total strength, agility, and stamina don’t even add up to 10. I’ve got zero talent for physical combat.

My only decent trait is slightly above-average mana, and my specialties are dark magic. Though I can’t let anyone find that out…

“Move it—!”

Gilliot’s shout snapped me back to my senses.

I was suddenly in the middle of a moving crowd. Someone bumped my shoulder as they passed.

—Tch. You’re in the way.

—Why are you just standing there like an idiot?

Rough guys muttered something as they passed.

“Ugh…”

It’s chaos. With 300 students, it’s all a blur. Guess now’s not the time to dwell on my misery.

Before I knew it, I was stuck in the middle of the two lines forming for the Combat class students.

Everyone looked big, bulky, and strong.

Then suddenly a thought popped into my head.

‘Wait a sec… if this is Combat class, Ackerman should be here too, right?’

Not just Ackerman. The Combat class was full of named characters. Lü Bu Ponte, Flame Spear Cain, Divine Archer Hoya, etc.

Excited to see game characters in real life? Absolutely not. Around Ackerman, trouble is constant. It’s always like that around shonen protagonists.

In short, this spells disaster for my peaceful academy life. I can’t have that.

Scanning the students ahead, I see it.

That red hair belongs to Ackerman.

The protagonist of Warrior Kingdoms, without a doubt.

‘Ha. This is a pain. I really can’t afford to get involved with the main character.’

My plan was ruined from the start. Still, let’s try to stay positive. There’s always a way out.

‘The key to a peaceful academy life is to stay as far away from Ackerman as possible.’

That’s the top priority.

I must not catch the protagonist’s eye.

“Okay! Let’s get moving then.”

Gilliot, now down from the podium, spoke.

---

The students assigned to the Combat class followed Instructor Gilliot to the Combat lecture room.

There were 94 new students in the Combat class. That’s about one-third of the 300 students—quite a large group. With so many, it’d be easy to blend in. Actually, that’s a good thing.

The Combat lecture room didn’t have a single desk. Just a bunch of training wooden dummies and all kinds of weapons. Pretty obvious what goes on in here.

As expected from the Combat class, known for the worst sweat smell in Warriors Academy. Intense doesn’t even begin to describe it.

‘Already feeling suffocated. Tch…’

I still couldn’t believe this was real.

“Alright, attention—!”

The Combat lecture room was smaller than the auditorium. So even without magic amplification, Gilliot’s voice filled the room.

The scattered Combat class freshmen fell silent at his command.

“Let me properly introduce myself again. I am Gilliot, head instructor of the Combat class. You may think of me as your parent from now on. Welcome!”

Thunderous applause!

Maybe because only Combat students were gathered, the clapping was full of force.

For some reason, his voice had this chest-swelling charisma that made you clap without even thinking. A strange power.

“First, we’ll take attendance. Since it’s the first day, we need to at least match names to faces.”

“Yes!”

Gilliot poured mana into a magical device that displayed the student roster. A glowing orb floated up, projecting a hologram.

It synced with our student IDs and displayed the info of all the Combat students.

“Adam Midna?”

“Yes!”

“Good energy.”

Gilliot called the names, and the students responded loudly. Fitting for the Combat class—everyone was brimming with energy.

“Ackerman Breed.”

“Hoya Tabanta.”

“Cain Abella.”

“Ponte Christo.”

Names of famous Combat class characters began to roll out. I committed their faces to memory. These are the ones I must avoid at all costs.

The roll call continued. The fewer names left, the more nervous I got. There’s no way people would react well when my name came up.

And finally—

“Aren Black… Blackfire?”

My name was called.

Gilliot’s face, previously pleased with the energy of the students, stiffened instantly.

If the head instructor reacted like that, how do you think the students responded?

The Blackfire family is like a tale passed down in fables now. Something that only exists in stories, not in real life…

A family that worshiped demons and researched dark magic 100 years ago.

At first, everyone was surprised and in disbelief.

—Blackfire? Did the instructor just say Blackfire?

—Wasn’t that just a legend? It’s real?

—Must be a different family with a similar name. I heard the real one was wiped out.

—What are you talking about? Who else would use the name Blackfire? It’s one of a kind. And who’d even dare to use that name, knowing how disgraced it is?

—So who is it?

A family that hadn’t left its estate in 100 years. No one knew what I looked like.

“Ahem! Quiet! Aren Blackfire? Where are you?”

“…Here.”

I answered calmly, without changing my expression.

Gasps and wary glances poured in. At the same time, the physical distance between me and the others grew. The students around me stepped back.

—Whoa, look at that face. He really does look like a vampire. That’s Blackfire?

—Hey, how did a Blackfire even get into Warriors? Didn’t the legend say they were under probation for 100 years?

—That was probably over by now, idiot.

—Wow, is this real?

—Wait, isn’t the Blackfire family known for dark magic? Why’s he in Combat?

—Don’t know, damn. Feels cursed. Didn’t know that family still existed.

—Do they still worship demons?

—Yeah, we better stay away.

After surprise and wariness came open disgust. Everything was playing out exactly as I predicted.

Guys, I can hear you.

The attention was overwhelming. I just wanted to hide somewhere. My [Gloomy] personality was rising to the surface.

But I kept my head high and my shoulders straight. It’s times like this when you can’t show weakness. My [Noble-like] personality quietly lent its support.

I maintained my composure. Once, my family had been prestigious. I desperately tried to preserve that dignity still lingering in my body.

‘Not bad. If I end up labeled as someone you shouldn’t mess with, no one will bother me.’

Then I’d be halfway to achieving my goal of quietly attending the academy. It would’ve been even better if I had ended up in the Magic class, though.

Gilliot compared my face to the holographic screen, then called the next name.

He treated me just like any other student, as if nothing unusual had happened. I appreciated that. I’d been slightly worried he might tell me to leave.

The commotion settled, and the Combat class roster check ended.

“We’ve got 94 freshmen in the Combat class. Good. Now! I’ll go over today’s schedule. It’s the first day, so it’ll be short—don’t worry too much.”

“Yes!”

Everyone focused on Gilliot again like nothing had happened.

Then Gilliot pointed with his thick fingers toward the equipment area.

“First, you’ll be issued personal gear. You must wear it during all sparring or training sessions. If you lose it or show up without it, you’ll get 2 points deducted. At 10 points, you’ll be assigned to free external missions—so be careful. Understood?”

“Yes!”

The answers were loud and steady.

I lined up to receive my gear. The protective gear was loose on my skinny body.

‘All the others are so muscular…’

They looked like they’d already finished training to perfection. No surprise—these kinds of people are probably monsters who trained from a young age to enter the Combat class.

Excelling at Warrior Kingdoms Academy and becoming a renowned figure is one of the greatest honors in the Kingdom of Eonia, so the desire for education burns hot.

The Combat class freshmen donned their protective gear and stood in two lines.

Head Instructor Gilliot and another instructor stood with their hands behind their backs, observing the students.

“The new recruits look good.”

“Right? I’ve got high hopes for this batch.”

Gilliot’s gaze passed over the students, briefly stopping on me before moving on.

‘Did he just pause on me?’

Was it just curiosity because I’m a Blackfire? Or maybe he didn’t like that this scrawny, odd-looking guy—who clearly had no connection to physical training—was now standing in the sacred domain of sweat, the Combat class.

‘Forget it. Just aim for the middle. And don’t get involved with Ackerman.’

I kept repeating my goal in my head.

“Everyone geared up?”

“Yes!”

“Good strong answers. Now! Lastly for today, we’ll be selecting personal weapons.”

The mood among the freshmen suddenly heated up. It was time to pick weapons—the highlight of the Combat class.

Everyone began selecting the weapon they were most confident with.

Then it was my turn.

As I stepped forward, everyone fell silent as if on cue.

‘This is so uncomfortable…’

Half curiosity—‘What’s he going to pick?’—half suspicion—‘Ugh, dirty Blackfire!’—probably what their eyes were saying.

To keep from showing my discomfort, I walked with as much dignity as possible, my eyes fixed only on the swords.

「Aren Blackfire. Male. Age 20.

Born with sword talent. Strongly inherited the blood of the Blackfire family’s founding patriarch. Assigned to the Combat class.」

No matter what, if I was born with sword talent, I had no choice. The class card wouldn’t lie, right?

Murmur murmur.

As I reached for a sword, the students stirred like they had seen something disgusting.

They probably found it funny. A descendant of the family infamous for dark magic, now picking up a sword? They were likely wondering how ridiculous it’d look—eager with schadenfreude in their eyes.

‘Hmph.’

Think whatever you want, you punks.

I boldly gripped the sword.

The moment it settled in my hand, I felt a jolt. Not a physical sensation, but something like an emotional connection.

It felt natural, familiar—like I had spent countless years with the sword. It fit perfectly in my grip.

‘Is this what they call good hand-feel?’

Even though it was my first time holding a sword, it felt like an extension of my body. But my arms were still like sticks, so wielding it properly still seemed difficult.

Moments later, my status window changed.

Name: Aren Blackfire
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Personality: [Gloomy] [Noble-like]
Specialties: [Dark Magic] [Blackfire: Family Secret Technique] [Descendant of the Sword Saint]
Stats: [Strength: 3] [Agility: 3] [Stamina: 2] [Luck: 1]
Mana: [20/20]

A new specialty had been added.

[Descendant of the Sword Saint]

What the hell is this? Whatever it is, it must explain why the sword felt so natural in my hand.

‘I’ll check it later when I’m back.’

I sheathed the sword with a fluid motion and returned to my spot.

Only then did the students finally look away from me.

“Looks like everyone’s picked their weapons.”

Once all students had chosen their main weapons, Gilliot spoke again.

“Tomorrow, we’ll divide into groups through one-on-one sparring. Don’t stress—it’s just a simple test. Just because you start in Class A doesn’t mean you won’t end up in Class C by the end. Same the other way around. So, come to tomorrow’s class with a light heart. Understood!?”

“Yes—!”

“Questions? …Save them for tomorrow. That’s all for today. Dismissed!”

Coolness! No Q&A time! Cheers erupted from the students.

That’s why players liked Gilliot and called him a favorite NPC. I did too.

I quickly took off my gear and packed my bag.

‘Let’s hurry back to my room.’

I was mentally drained.

Ending up in the Combat class on day one was bad enough—drawing aggro just from my name made it worse.

My [Gloomy] trait was terrible for handling this kind of situation. I needed to rest ASAP. And revise my plans quickly.

While the other students were busy chatting with friends or making new ones, I quietly headed toward the exit.

“Hey!”

Someone seemed to call me. A girl’s voice. I ignored it and kept walking.

She called again. Still, I kept walking. I remembered that voice from roll call—I couldn’t get involved.

“Aren Blackfire!”

The voice was now right behind me. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I turned around.

There stood Cain Abella—one of the named characters and a heroine candidate.

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