The journey to the Academy went smoothly, as expected. I was picked up by the Royal Military Academy's agent, and before I knew it, I was standing before the legendary gates of the Academy of Fate.
How should I put this? I knew what the Academy looked like from the novel. But seeing it in person... that was something else. A once-in-a-lifetime experience.
There I stood, facing the main gate. The Academy was enclosed by a 150-meter-high wall, so naturally, the gate had to be massive—majestic, even.
It looked like something straight out of Greek mythology, with a modern twist. The gate towered like a mythical artifact, exuding a presence of its own. It wasn't just a gate—it had an ego. A will. No one could pass unnoticed. No one could hide anything. After all, this was the Gate of Fate. It saw through everyone.
On either side of the gate, two enormous thrones stood, each occupied by figures from Olympus mythology. No, not real giants—there were no true giants left in the mortal world. But these two were close—about 100 meters tall, seated on their thrones like silent watchers.
To most, they looked like statues—frozen, eternal. But I knew better. According to the ruined novel, they were alive. Ancient. Powerful. The top three security Mazors of the Academy. They only moved in emergencies, and even then, the rest of the time, they didn't blink.
But I knew the truth.
In the upcoming arc, both giants would fall. One of the most powerful demons—ranked 60th among the 72 Demons of the Outside—would invade this place. The gate... the giants... and half of the Academy itself would be reduced to rubble.
I stepped through.
And the inside? Even more breathtaking.
Towering skyscrapers kissed the clouds, blending futuristic architecture with ancient Greek grandeur. The Academy stretched across nearly 200 square kilometers—over three times the size of Manhattan—encircled by a 150-meter-high wall.
It wasn't just a campus. It was a city. A world of its own. Over a million people could live here—students, instructors, guards, civilians. There were districts, parks, arenas, libraries... everything.
To make life easier, mini teleportation platforms were scattered throughout the Academy. Just speak your destination, and you'd be there in seconds. Convenience and magic, fused.
I glanced at my bracelet—a sleek, advanced communication device, like a futuristic smartphone from my past life. It displayed the time: 7:45 AM. I had 15 minutes to reach the auditorium.
The Auditorium—a structure resembling the Colosseum. That was where the Academy held duels, ceremonies, and official functions. It could house over 100,000 spectators at once.
I rushed toward the teleportation platform nearby. It wasn't complicated: a magic circuit etched into the floor, four rune-covered pillars standing around it. I scanned my ID card.
> [[ Please state your destination, Cadet Lucifer. ]]
"Auditorium."
> [[ Preparing teleportation. Please stand by. ]]
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The auditorium was already full by the time I arrived. Ten thousand cadets, packed in neat rows like products on display. Some looked nervous, others excited.
Me? I was just here to watch the show.
In the center of the Colosseum-like structure, a stage floated like an island in the crowd. Sleek. Grand. Designed for theatrics.
This was the entrance ceremony. The grand tradition where every cadet would receive a rank, as if the Academy needed an official excuse to start sorting us into categories.
The top three cadets, whoever they were, would give speeches. Words meant to inspire.
Then came the dean's turn.
After that, we'd be assigned to our classes. Like being handed a role in a play we didn't audition for.
The crowd was buzzing with excitement. I stood there, silent. Watching. Because that's what I do best.
I glanced at my smart bracelet—8:00 AM sharp. The time had come.
The Ceremonial Host made his entrance onto the stage, the kind that practically screamed for attention, despite the absence of an actual spotlight. The audience fell into a sudden hush.
"Welcome, future heroes of the Academy of Fate!" His voice echoed, smooth and theatrical. "Today marks the beginning of your journey—here in this academy, you'll learn to be the hero who can protect the world, protect those you care about, fulfill your dreams... everything will begin from this place."
I wasn't sure what kind of "hero" he had in mind.
When I hear "hero," I always think of a single person who's so broken, it's a wonder how he's still holding up—if even I, who's read the whole ruined novel, don't fully understand it.
The host raised a hand toward the stage. "Now, without further delay, I'd like to invite our first rank cadet of this year. Cadet Cale Ashblood, please come and share your thoughts with us."
The moment he said that, the crowd's energy shifted. It wasn't excitement, not exactly—more like tension, a strange sort of anticipation. I knew why. Cale Ashblood. The one who stood at the top, but with that cold, eerie detachment only the truly broken can have.
Cale walked onto the stage. There was no dramatic pause, no deep breath like you'd expect from someone about to give an inspiring speech. He simply stood there for a moment, his crimson eyes scanning the crowd with a calm that was more unsettling than reassuring.
"I don't believe in beginnings." His voice, low and devoid of the enthusiasm you'd expect for an entrance speech, fell into the auditorium like the first crack of thunder before a storm.
What the hell is this psycho saying? This is different from the novel? How?
The words seemed to weigh more than they should have. It wasn't a speech. It was a statement.
"This isn't the start of your story. It's just another page in a book that doesn't end well."
I felt a few people shift uncomfortably. The host shifted too, a nervous cough breaking the silence. But Cale ignored them, his gaze unwavering as he looked out at the sea of hopeful faces.
"You were probably expecting something inspiring. Hopeful." His eyes flickered down briefly, almost like he was inspecting the weight of his own words. "But hope…" He paused, his voice darkening. "Hope is expensive. Most of us won't be able to afford it."
The room was dead silent. It felt like he'd thrown a bucket of cold water on the crowd's energy. No one dared speak. They couldn't.
"But if you're lucky…" He let the words hang in the air, his tone shifting ever so slightly. "You'll find something worth burning for."
Jeez, this moron. How the hell am I supposed to get a happy ending when even the protagonist doesn't believe in hope?
With that, he turned and left the stage, his footsteps quiet as if he hadn't just delivered a blow to the atmosphere.
The crowd remained frozen, suspended between confusion and contemplation, before the host hurriedly returned to regain control of the situation.
And so, the Entrance Ceremony continued.
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Author's Note:
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