After a few minutes, they finally entered a large theater room.
The room was filled with blue-golden banners and intricate beast designs carved into the walls. At the center sat a podium with a small microphone attached to a pedestal.
"Let’s take the left row," Thomas said, gesturing for Logan to follow.
Giving a small nod, Logan moved to a bunch of empty seats in the middle of the row.
Sitting down, Logan glanced around at the two thousand other students in his year, observing quietly.
After everyone had settled in, the theater’s metal doors closed and the lights dimmed.
The only light left was aimed at the podium.
"It’s starting," Logan heard his friends say while he kept his eyes toward the podium.
A muscular man, around thirty years old, with brown hair and a thick beard, walked onto the podium.
"Good morning, everyone," the man said with a calm smile. "My name is Andreas Falk, and I’m the dean assigned to your year."
He paused briefly, sweeping his gaze across the crowd of students.
"Today marks the beginning of your path to success," Andreas continued, his smile widening. "You were chosen from tens or even hundreds of millions for your strength, intelligence, affinity, and potential."
His tone shifted slightly as he added,
"But don’t let that get to your head."
He let the silence stretch before speaking again.
"Because the truth is, you’re not special."
"Out there, countless individuals are stronger, smarter, and more capable than any of you."
He gave a small shrug.
"You’ll witness that firsthand during the international competition in four years, assuming you survive that long."
Andreas motioned to the side of the stage as several figures began stepping forward.
"These are some of the instructors responsible for your training," he said as they lined up behind him. "Their job is simple: to break you down and rebuild you to be stronger, sharper, and better."
He let the words sink in before continuing, his tone colder now.
"Like I said, most of you won’t make it far," he added, the smile returning to his face as he looked out over the students.
"Over thirty percent of you won’t make it past the first year. And by the time you reach your fifth, more than half will be gone."
Letting a pause fall, he added one more sentence.
"Those who survive become legends," he continued. "The rest will have to search for their opportunities elsewhere."
A large smile spread across his face as he leaned closer to the mic.
"Welcome to your first day."
Stepping away, a female teacher with long black hair, also in her thirties, took the stage with a softer smile.
"Your homeroom and teachers have already been assigned," she spoke gently. "A message has been sent to all your student accounts with the details."
"Now, everyone can follow those details and visit their homerooms where a teacher will explain more details about the school and the upcoming events," she said, smiling before taking a few steps back.
Murmurs spread through the room as students glanced at each other with uncertain expressions, unsure what to say or make of it.
"Damn, that was intense," Robert turned to Logan.
Logan nodded, agreeing. "I didn’t expect them to be so straightforward," he said, standing up.
"Neither did I," Robert agreed, also standing up.
Both Robert and Logan were interrupted by Grant’s laughing.
"This will be fun," he said, a large smile spreading. "This competitiveness is the reason I went here."
A small smile spread on Logan’s face, agreeing. ’I came here to get stronger,’ he thought. ’With pressure like this, my strength is guaranteed to increase.’
They slowly moved out of the theater back into the large hallways.
"I’m in class A, number 205," Layla said softly, while the others glanced at their own watches.
"Same here," Thomas nodded. "I’m number 193."
"Yup," Robert said, also giving a small nod. "Number 040 here."
"Everyone’s in the same class then," Logan nodded, his watch also showing class A and number 019.
"We need to go to room twenty-three on the fourth floor for homeroom," Layla said softly again.
The group nodded, following after Layla who had her map open.
’I assume the numbers have something to do with the entrance assessment,’ Logan thought, following after his friends.
After climbing two sets of stairs, they walked through a massive hallway.
The doors were spaced so far apart along the corridor that it took over forty seconds just to get from one to the next.
"Finally," Grant remarked, standing in front of two open wooden doors. On the label beside the door sat a sign with room 4.24 on it.
"How does a straight hallway take over ten minutes to walk?" he grumbled as he stepped inside.
Logan shook his head slightly, smiling as he followed after Grant.
Inside, he found another theater-style room, though much smaller than the last.
’There’s plenty of people already here,’ he thought, following after Grant to find a seat.
He counted easily another sixty students already seated in the room.
’’Are they really planning to put two hundred students in one room?’’ he muttered, sitting down in a seat in the middle beside Robert.
After ten minutes, his question was answered.
Roughly two hundred additional students had entered and taken seats across the room.
To his surprise, Logan spotted even the Imperial Church girl walking through the doors, still wearing white clothing and a veil.
She arrived as one of the last and quietly took a seat at the back of the class.
’What is she doing here?’ Logan wondered, slightly irritated upon seeing her.
While he was in thought, her head turned towards him.
Logan immediately turned around, regretful that he even looked in her direction.
Even with his back turned, Logan could still feel her gaze burning into him.
Before something could happen though, a relatively young, slim man wearing glasses walked through the doors.
Pressing a button on his watch as he descended toward the podium, the doors shifted shut behind him.
Once the man reached the microphone, he waited patiently.
The murmurs slowly faded once people started realizing their homeroom teacher was there.
Logan also no longer felt a stare cutting into his back.