Free Web NovelChapter 10: First day in Academia
«Primal Gaze!»
<Current Stats of Victoria Nightshade:
Strength: 60
Speed: 60
Stamina: 60
Intelligence: 20
Primal Level: 0
Chosen Path: None>
’She is certainly stronger than me, as I expected, but she is almost on par with Lucian in terms of physical stats’
’Starting a conflict now is not advisable, as it could result in expulsion’
"Isn’t that the boy who got into Class A, after all?" — the other girls behind him began to whisper. A quiet rustle passed through the rows of desks, drawing unwanted attention from his classmates to Ruthless
"Forgive me, but calling a person, even a boy, a ’worm’ is rude. Instead, could you tell me how you achieved such perfection in your physical level, Miss Victoria?" — Ruthless asked with a smile, maintaining his gentlemanly facade
Victoria was immediately taken aback. With a smirk, she sat on his desk and began to speak:
"Heh... and here I thought you were one of those masculinists who scream about rights and such. But you turn out to be quite the gentleman and a smart one at that," — she said, reaching out to touch Ruthless’s face, tracing her thin fingers along his cheek as if appraising his appearance. Ruthless remained motionless, allowing the gesture while keeping his flawless mask of friendliness intact.
"And you’re not bad-looking either; you don’t quite reach Lord Lucian’s level, but you’re better than most guys. I especially like your eyes—so deep black and beautiful," — she began to shower him with compliments. — "I wonder where you got those...."
’I am interested in those answers myself. That is precisely why my goal is the Primal Truth: to understand all fundamental concepts and exercise control over them’
"Everyone, take your seats! We have important matters to attend to today!" — a professor entered the room, clutching several thick documents. The classroom door swung open with a bang, and the instructor’s strict, dry voice instantly forced Victoria to pull away from Ruthless and step down from the desk. A heavy folder of papers landed on the teacher’s desk with a dull thud, silencing any further chatter in the room.
The professor first examined the new students who would now be studying in this class; judging by appearances, she was the primary person responsible for them. Naturally, she spotted Ruthless and began assessing him with a hard gaze. Her eyes narrowed, and her face momentarily transformed into a stern mask of disapproval.
Everyone shared the same question, students and professors alike: how did this weak boy end up here? An invisible but suffocating tension, mixed with the contempt of the girls sitting around him, hung in the air of the spacious classroom.
’I suspect the fact that I am here because of the Princess remains a secret. If so, there is no point in revealing it now; this information may prove useful under more favorable conditions,’ Ruthless began to analyze, simply ignoring the gazes of those around him.
He was absolutely indifferent to what anyone thought of him, for anger and offense are merely types of energy and time expenditures that, in this instance, yield no profit.
"Alright, let’s get acquainted. My name is Eleonora Cromwell, and as you have guessed, I will be in charge of you for your entire three-year tenure at the Vizentia Academy" — she said with a somber face, leaning both hands on the wooden lectern.
’So, it’s three years of training here, unlike the four years at our universities,» Ruthless noted.’
"Before we begin, let’s do the following: we are going to the armory, where each student will be issued a weapon. You will need it in the future, as well as for your exams. There is only one instance of each weapon, and weapons with two or more are considered the best."
’In typical novels, it was exactly the opposite.’
"Weapons are ranked from D to S. Naturally, as you know, D is the lowest, and S is the highest. I hope everything is clear. I have no desire to repeat myself" — she said, closing her eyes and tiredly rubbing the bridge of her nose.
Ruthless sat motionless while the class buzzed around him, gathering their things. His gaze focused on the instructor’s figure, activating his hidden ability. Directly over the silhouette of Eleonora Cromwell, clear system lines flashed in the air:
«Primal Gaze!»
<Current Stats of Eleonora Cromwell:
Strength: 600
Speed: 550
Stamina: 700
Intelligence: 60
Primal Level: 2
Chosen Path: Path of the Professor (70% mastered)>
’She has the most balanced stats of everyone I’ve seen so far,’ he thought.
After this conversation, all the students, including the professor, began heading toward the armory. It was not far from the classroom, so they reached it quite quickly.
Once everyone stepped inside, they were immediately amazed.
"Wow, what a beautiful place, and there are weapons placed everywhere," — one of them said.
’It’s more than just a hall; everything here is white and blue, like the sky, which gives this place a certain beauty.’
Although, judging objectively, the place truly looked expensive. Blue floors reflected the light from above brightly. Under the high vaults of the hall, massive racks stretched in neat rows, upon which rested hundreds of types of blades, spears, and rapiers, shrouded in a barely noticeable magical haze.
But, looking at the floor, Ruthless did not see a reflection of light, himself, or anyone else in his alien eyes. The blue mirrored surface remained absolutely dead and clear to him.
After that, a strange feeling came over Ruthless — either surprise or excitement from the fact that this gave him the motivation to move forward.
’Relying only on motivation is risky, of course, but the feeling of relying on internal motivation that never stops is very strange,’ Ruthless noted.
Enough of these internal conversations; now it was time to choose a sword for himself for future battles.
’I would really like to get an A-rank sword, but I think I’ll still get the lowest one, based on my stats.’
"Just touch the sword you want to take. If you are able to, it means this sword will be yours," — the professor said, showing her own sword, which she apparently had held since the moment she also chose her sword here. The hilt of her weapon was worn, but a heavy, confident pressure of an experienced fighter emanated from the blade itself.
After that, Ruthless decided to start with the best blades of rank A and S. He approached the central racks, where blades rested on expensive velvet stands, emitting a glow visible to the naked eye and a perceptible energy pulsation. He touched a sword, but literally nothing happened in response — the metal remained absolutely cold, like a piece of ordinary iron, ignoring his touch.
Then he tried to simply pull it out, but he did not succeed. The hilt seemed to have grown firmly into the scabbard, not moving even a millimeter.
’I think this is a rejection,’ he noted, his face not even changing despite the failure.
Ruthless decided to walk around the hall for a bit, simply to observe how these swords were constructed. He walked slowly between the rows, watching as other female students, with triumphant cries, one after another pulled out glowing blades of various ranks, filling the hall with the clanging of steel. He moved further and further into the depths, where the blueness of the floors became darker and the weapon racks looked old and dusty.
But suddenly, as he was passing by the swords on one of the most inconspicuous, slanted racks in a far corner, one of them fell right at his feet with a sharp, dry crash. The metal struck the blue floor, breaking the monotonous hum of the hall.
’What?’ — Ruthless stopped and shifted his gaze downward.
