Arthur and Isoreth didn't exchange many words during the rest of the orientation, but the sheer weight of her presence next to him was impossible to ignore. The tension in the back row was palpable, especially since half the class kept stealing hostile glances back at them.
The academy hadn't just separated the tracks but also swapped out the instructors too. Instead of Mrs. Alger, a tall, painfully thin man with a profoundly bored expression stepped up to the podium.
"Name's Mr. Touchimani," he announced, his voice a flat, unenthusiastic drawl.
According to his brief introduction, he was a veteran combatant who had retired as a Silver-tier Summoner. He spent a solid three minutes casually praising himself, claiming he easily could have pushed into the Gold tier if he wanted to, but had decided to retire early to spend time with his kids.
Arthur mentally scoffed, leaning his chin on his palm. Kids. He couldn't imagine himself ever dealing with that. To him, children were just noisy, constantly nagging little creatures that spawned into the world for the sole purpose of being an expensive, exhausting burden. No thank you.
As he shifted in his seat, his eyes involuntarily drifted over to his right. Isoreth was leaning forward slightly, resting her elbows on the desk. The movement offered Arthur a dangerously perfect view of her cleavage, the flawless, pale curve of her skin and the mesmerizing, rhythmic rise and fall of her breasts.
Now those, Arthur thought, a dark, appreciative smirk forming in his mind, right there are creatures that could never bore me.
He caught himself before his gaze became too predatory, snapping his eyes back to the front of the room just as the instructor tapped a piece of chalk against the digital board.
"Alright, let's skip the administrative garbage and get into it," Mr. Touchimani said, crossing his slim arms. "Today, we start by re-evaluating what you idiots think you know about summons. So tell me... what exactly is a summon to you?"
A few eager hands instantly shot up into the air from the front rows, with Christoffer and Sidwig practically falling out of their chairs to get noticed first.
Mr. Touchimani sighed, pointing a lazy finger toward a girl in the second row. "You. Enlighten us."
"Summons are manifestations of localized mana shards derived from captured rift essences, Sir!" she recited perfectly, reading straight from the standard textbook definition. "They are split into three primary classifications: Beast-type, Elemental-type, and Construct-type. They possess no true free will and are entirely bound to the summoner's core strength and Fortitude rating."
"A perfect, textbook answer," Mr. Touchimani muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And entirely incomplete. That's the civilian trash they teach you to pass standard exams."
He leaned against the podium, his bored eyes suddenly sharpening as he scanned the room, stopping directly on the back row where Arthur and Isoreth sat.
"A true summon isn't just a spell, it's a reflection of your soul's frequency. Some are wild beasts, yes. But others..." He paused, his gaze lingering on Arthur for a heavy, silent second. "Others are anomalies. Entities pulled from ancient timelines or parallel rifts that carry their own hidden laws."
The room went quiet, a few students glancing back at Arthur with renewed disdain.
"But that's in theory, of course," Mr. Touchimani said, his heavy gaze dropping squarely onto Arthur. "In reality, the system has strict boundaries. All summons are strictly ranked from Iron tier all the way up to Platinum tier. And standing unchallenged at the absolute top of that food chain... are Dragons." Get faster updates on g.com.
As if on cue, the entire auditorium pivoted to look at Isoreth. Her family line was legendary, one of the few elite houses in the world capable of binding and summoning those ancient apex predators. She had summoned one afterall.
"Dragons are the absolute definition of power," Touchimani continued, tapping the digital board. "They have demonstrated that terrifying dominance throughout our history. In fact, their most famous demonstration of power happened during one of the most defining catastrophes of the modern era. Anyone care to name it?"
Hands aggressively shot up into the air again. Mr. Touchimani completely ignored them, his eyes locked onto the back corner. "Mr. Cole... enlighten us."
A wave of stifled giggles rippled through the front rows. Sidwig and Christoffer leaned back, wearing identical grins, eagerly waiting for Arthur to choke under the pressure.
Arthur lazily shifted his attention away from Isoreth's cleavage, locking eyes with the instructor. His voice was entirely calm, completely devoid of the panic the class was hoping for.
"July 4th, 2030," Arthur said clearly. "Famously known as the Parade of Ten Thousand Orcs."
"That is correct, Mr. Cole," Mr. Touchimani said, eyebrow raised in slight surprise. "But give us the details. What exactly happened on that day?"
Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Seriously? It's not like every single idiot in this room doesn't already know the story.
"Multiple high-tier dungeons across the city grid mysteriously suffered simultaneous, synchronized dungeon breaks," Arthur explained, his tone flat but precise. "An estimated ten thousand Orcs flooded the surface streets, completely overwhelming the local defenses and slaughtering hundreds of thousands of civilians before the military could even mobilize."
"Yes, yes, exactly. Thank you, Mr. Cole," Mr. Touchimani sighed, a rare flash of grim solemnity crossing his bored face. "Four hundred and thirty-six thousand people perished in less than twenty-four hours. Our vanguard summoners fought back with everything they had, but the tide didn't turn until the Dragon houses arrived. Down from the clouds came our legendary hero, Heli, riding his primary summon, the True Dragon, Kyruxus. Historical archives state Kyruxus incinerated at least a thousand Orcs in his first three sweeping passes, completely shattering their vanguard before the enemy could adapt."
The auditorium was dead silent now. Every student knew the tragic end of that legend. Heli had desperately tried to maneuver through a sky darkened by thousands of heavy, iron-tipped spears thrown like surface-to-air missiles. A single, devastating throw from a High Orc Warlord had pierced Kyruxus cleanly through the neck. The massive beast had lost altitude, crashing violently through a row of skyscrapers. The impact killed the dragon instantly, and its colossal, falling weight crushed Heli beneath it, killing the legendary summoner on the spot.
But the sacrifice hadn't been in vain. With their vanguard decimated and their numbers dwindling, the Orcs were forced into a chaotic retreat, driven back into the rifts as the remaining dragon riders and heavy beast summoners capitalized on Heli's final stand. Today, a massive bronze statue of Heli and Kyruxus stood prominently at City Hall, a permanent reminder of the cost of survival.
"We won that day because the dragons drove the Orcs back into the dark," Touchimani said, leaning heavily on the podium. "To this day, we don't know how or why those dungeons broke simultaneously. But what we do know is that a calamity like that can happen again. And that is precisely why you idiots are sitting in these seats." This chapter was copied from novelping . com without permission.
As Mr. Touchimani turned around to bring up a tactical map on the digital board, Isoreth subtly leaned over toward Arthur.
"I didn't think you were actually paying attention," she whispered, her voice a soft, melodious murmur that caught him completely off guard. "Honestly, I thought you were just staring at my breasts the entire time."
Arthur's face instantly flushed a deep, burning crimson. He choked on his own breath, his smooth composure completely evaporating. "Uh... wait. You noticed that?"
Isoreth gave a slow, deliberate nod. Then, to his absolute shock, a warm, incredibly amused smile broke across her elegant features. "You're a bit of a pervert, aren't you, Arthur?"
Finding his footing, Arthur let out a rough, defeated chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck but refusing to look away from her. "Hey, I'm only human. I couldn't help it. Your breasts are a pretty massive distraction, Isoreth."
Isoreth held his gaze for a few seconds longer, her sharp eyes scanning his flushed face with an unreadable expression. "At least you're honest," she murmured softly, before turning her attention back to the front of the room.
Arthur let out a quiet breath, his heart still knocking against his ribs.
On the digital board, Mr. Touchimani tapped the screen, replacing the historical map of the Orc massacre with a sleek, glowing interface displaying a long column of names.
"We maintain a live Leaderboard at this institution," the instructor explained, his voice returning to its flat, bored drone. "It tracks and grades each and every student's tactical progress throughout the semester. More importantly, this board is heavily monitored by the top corporate and military guilds for talent scouting. Perform well, and you might find yourself signed to a massive contract with the best guilds in the city or across the country before you even graduate."
He gestured to the baseline numbers next to the names. "Right now, you've all only just awakened, meaning your initial placements have been automatically generated based solely on your summon's Fortitude rating."
Arthur's stomach dropped slightly. He leaned back in his chair, a sudden realization hitting him. Wait. Since Arne couldn't be quantified by the fortitude gauge yesterday, does that mean the system automatically put me at the dead bottom of the entire class?
"But don't get comfortable at the top, and don't despair at the bottom," Mr. Touchimani continued, pacing along the podium. "Because a summon's base Fortitude doesn't automatically make you a god. Even with a high-tier summon, a brainless commander can easily be dismantled by an opponent using superior strategy, or by a weaker summon that happens to exploit your beast's elemental weakness. So, to give everyone a fair shot and establish a real baseline..."
The instructor paused, a small, almost sadistic smile tugging at the corner of his lips
"We will be kicking off the semester this afternoon with a mini-trial for your summons. It's time to see what your beasts can actually do when the claws come out."
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