The corridor was longer than it looked.
Liebe walked slowly, taking it all in.
The Order’s Academy wasn’t what he had imagined from the outside.
Not just a training hall and stone walls.
It was a place.
Alive.
High ceilings with narrow windows letting in the morning light.
Notice boards covered in schedules, rules, names.
Students moved past each other, talking, laughing, arguing about things he didn’t understand yet.
No one paid him any attention.
Liebe stopped at one of the boards.
Foundations of Light Discipline.
Hall 4.
Morning.
He looked at the paper in his hand — what they’d given him at the entrance.
Hall 4.
That matched.
He found the hall faster than expected.
A plain door.
Wooden.
Slightly worn.
Liebe pushed it open.
Rows of desks.
A board at the front.
A few students already seated — some flipping through notes, some staring out the window.
A normal classroom.
Almost.
Except above the board, a faintly glowing orb rotated slowly — not bright, not warm.
Just… there.
Like a quiet reminder of what was taught here.
Liebe chose a seat near the window.
Sat down.
Set the wooden sword beside him.
And immediately felt a gaze.
From the right.
“You seriously brought that in here?”
The voice was female.
Not loud.
But direct — the kind of voice that didn’t bother softening things.
Liebe turned.
A girl.
Around his age.
Dark hair tied back loosely.
On her desk — a stack of notes, clearly not from her first day.
She was looking at the wooden sword.
“It’s… personal,” Liebe said.
“Sure.”
She looked back at her notes.
A pause.
Not a question.
“Yeah.”
“Where from?”
Liebe hesitated.
“…A village.
It’s gone now.”
She looked up.
This time — without the edge.
“The Abyss?”
“Yeah.”
Silence.
Then she nodded.
Once.
No extra words.
“Sia,” she said.
“Liebe.”
“I know.
Word travels fast.”
He frowned.
“What word?”
She smiled slightly.
“The guy with the wooden sword who lit up the plaza.”
Liebe felt his face warm.
“…That’s not what happened.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
And went back to her notes.
The instructor entered without announcement.
Not young.
Not tall.
A plain dark robe with nothing extra.
He didn’t introduce himself — just stood at the board and spoke.
“Light is not power.”
A pause.
“It is not a weapon.
Not a shield.
Not a tool.”
He looked at the class.
“It is expression.
Of what is within.
If there is chaos inside — the light will be chaotic.
If there is nothing — there will be no light at all.”
Liebe listened.
Carefully.
“Today you will not do anything with your hands.
You will sit.
And listen to yourselves.”
Someone behind him quietly exhaled.
The instructor didn’t react.
“Begin.”
Liebe sat straight and tried to… listen.
Like the instructor said.
Nothing dramatic.
Just — quiet inside.
He closed his eyes.
And for a second — almost felt it.
Something warm.
Deep.
Barely there.
Like an ember under ash.
Then — gone.
He opened his eyes.
Sia was watching him.
“Almost,” she said quietly.
“What?”
“You almost caught it.
I could tell.”
Liebe looked at her.
“How can you see that…?”
She shrugged.
“Been practicing a year.
You start to notice.”
A pause.
“Next time — don’t try to hold it.
Just let it be.”
Liebe didn’t answer.
But he remembered.
After class, the corridor filled with voices again.
Liebe walked slowly, wooden sword in hand.
Sia walked beside him.
No invitation needed.
Just — there.
“How long did it take you to reach Moniyan?” she asked.
“A few days.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah.”
She was quiet for a moment.
“Brave.
Or stupid.”
“Probably both.”
She glanced at him sideways.
And for the first time — smiled.
A real one.
“Welcome to the Academy, Liebe.”
He didn’t say anything.
But something inside him — warmed.
Not the light.
Just — something alive.