Edwyn's jaw nearly hit the floor as the black-robed Arch-Mage's words sank in.
Fellow apprentices? This guy, who'd been throwing around threats like confetti and scaring the pants off Baron Drelis, was just a student?
"Well, damn," Edwyn muttered, his lips curling into a lopsided grin. "Here I thought you were the big bad wizard, and you're just another punk like us? Talk about a plot twist."
Shock rippled through his mind, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. A massive hatch yawned open at the bottom of the Zeppelin-Class Arcane Airship, its edges glowing with faint, pulsating runes that hummed with arcane energy. The airship itself was a beast, its sleek, whale-like form stretching hundreds of meters, its hull a patchwork of shimmering gray metal and organic-looking plates that pulsed like a living thing. The beam from its "eye" bathed the group in an eerie, silvery light, and Edwyn couldn't help but whistle. "This thing's got style. I'm already in love."
The Arch-Mage, Tyrek, apparently, floated upward, leading the seven apprentices into the hatch with a casual wave of his hand. The levitation magic wrapped around Edwyn like a warm breeze, lifting him effortlessly.
"Alright, floaty magic, you're officially on my good side," he quipped, spreading his arms like he was surfing the air. The other kids shot him nervous glances.
They landed inside a cavernous cabin, its walls lined with glowing panels etched with swirling sigils. The air smelled of ozone and polished metal, with a faint undercurrent of something primal, like the musk of a sleeping beast. Before Edwyn could get his bearings, a booming female voice cut through the space like a warhammer. "Seven apprentices! Tyrek, you lucky bastard, you hit the jackpot this time!"
Edwyn's head snapped up. Standing in the center of the cabin was a woman who looked like she could bench-press a dragon. She towered over two meters, her muscular frame barely contained by a sleeveless tunic and leather breeches. Her arms were thicker than Edwyn's thighs, and she hefted a door-sized greatsword etched with glowing runes that pulsed with an intimidating, otherworldly energy. Her short-cropped black hair and piercing gray eyes gave her the look of a predator who'd just spotted lunch. Now that's a lady who knows how to party, Edwyn thought, already liking her vibe.
Beside her stood a black-robed skeleton, its skeletal frame cloaked in tattered fabric that billowed despite the still air. Ghostly blue flames flickered in its eye sockets, and its bony fingers clutched a crystal orb that shimmered with a faint, eerie light. As the hatch sealed shut with a wave of its hand, the skeleton's jaw clacked, and it spoke in a hollow, resonant voice. "Seven apprentices, huh? You all owe me dinner now. Less than 100 Mana Crystals, and I'm not showing up."
Edwyn raised an eyebrow, his grin turning sly. "Whoa, Bone Daddy, you drive a hard bargain. How 'bout I throw in a free dance lesson instead?" The skeleton's flames flickered, but it didn't respond, its focus already on the orb.
Tyrek, the black-robed Arch-Mage, chuckled, his earlier menace replaced by a surprising cheerfulness. "Screw off, Aysen. Fifty Crystals, take it or leave it." He turned to the kids, his monocle glinting with mischief. "Don't mind him. He's all bones and no fun. Welcome aboard, brats. You're in for one hell of a ride."
Edwyn laughed, folding his arms. "Now that's more like it. So, what's the deal, Tyrek? You gonna teach us how to sling fireballs, or are we just here for the sky cruise?"
Tyrek smirked but didn't answer, instead gesturing to the skeleton, Arch-Mage Aysen, who stepped forward with mechanical precision. The skeleton began recording names and Spiritforce levels in the orb, its bony fingers moving with eerie speed. "Name," it intoned, pointing at Edwyn.
"Edwyn, Black Forest's finest," he said, giving a mock bow. "Spiritforce 15, in case you missed the memo. Don't worry, I'll sign autographs later."
Aysen's flames flickered, but he said nothing, moving on to the next kid. Once the roll call was done, he reached beneath his robes, how does a skeleton even have pockets? Edwyn wondered, and produced seven leather bags, each clinking with contents. He handed one to each apprentice with a curt, "Take it."
Edwyn peeked inside his bag, finding a feather quill, a bottle of ink, a stack of parchment, a numbered tag (Room 225), and three books bound in dark leather. "Nice swag," he said, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "What, no complimentary magic wand?"
"These are your admission materials," Tyrek said, his tone light but firm. "The books cover your introductory courses and the Academy's regulations. That number tag is your room assignment. Stay in your rooms during the flight unless it's absolutely necessary. Feel free to mess around a bit, just don't get anyone killed." He flashed a grin that was equal parts encouraging and menacing. "Now go find your rooms. Move it."
The passenger corridor was a narrow, dimly lit passage, its walls made of the same strange, organic metal as the airship's hull. Doors lined both sides, each marked with a glowing number. Edwyn counted as he walked, estimating about 50 rooms. "Two hundred passengers at full capacity? Damn, this sky whale's got room for a small army," he muttered, impressed. "Fantasy worlds don't mess around."
He reached Room 225 and pushed open the door, only to be greeted by a cheerful, "Hey, friend! I'm Elia from the Golden Sun Region!" A girl with pale gold hair and light blue eyes stood inside, her freckled face lit with a nervous but friendly smile. She was petite, maybe a year younger than Edwyn's apparent age, and her simple tunic couldn't hide the fact that she was way out of her comfort zone.
Edwyn froze, one eyebrow shooting up. "Whoa, hold the phone, Goldilocks. Co-ed dorms? Did I miss a memo, or is this a setup for some awkward rom-com?" He checked his tag again, yep, Room 225. "This gotta be a mistake. Hang tight, I'm gonna go bug Bone Daddy about it."
"Don't bother," Elia said quickly, her voice a little too sharp. "Someone already asked. Arch-Mage Aysen said the room assignments are set in stone. No changes. A couple kids tried arguing and nearly got thrown off the ship."
Edwyn rubbed his temples, his grin turning wry. "Aysen, huh? The skeleton with a stick up his… well, where his ass used to be? Figures." He sighed, tossing his bag onto the floor. "Alright, fine. Guess we're roomies, Elia. Name's Edwyn, Black Forest's resident badass. Try not to fall in love with me, yeah?"
Elia's cheeks flushed, but her eyes darted away, betraying a flicker of unease. Edwyn didn't notice, too busy taking in the room. It was cramped, barely 12 square meters, with two bunk beds, a narrow desk, two rickety chairs, and a glowing crystal lamp embedded in the ceiling. A tiny toilet cubicle was tucked in one corner, its door barely wide enough to squeeze through. "Cozy," Edwyn said, smirking. "Like a five-star closet."
The situation was… awkward. A boy and a girl, both barely into their teens, stuck in a tiny room together? It could've been the setup for a sappy romance, but Edwyn wasn't buying it. Sure, Elia was cute, with her freckles and nervous energy, but inside, Edwyn was a grown-ass man from another world.
And besides his type was gentle, mature, well-endowed big sisters.
"I'll take the top bunk," he said, keeping his tone neutral. "You need to change or whatever, just say the word, and I'll stare at the wall. Deal?"
Elia nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Deal."
Edwyn kicked off his boots and vaulted onto the top bunk with a flourish, landing with a creak. "Time to get to work," he muttered, pulling out the three books from his bag. He flipped through them, only to scowl. The pages were a mess of unfamiliar symbols, Magus Language, no doubt. "Great. I'm a Mage now, and I can't even read the damn manual. Typical."
Then he spotted the thickest book, its cover stamped with the words Magus Language Dictionary. The Infinite Forge stirred in his soul, and a message flashed in his mind:
[Material: Magus Language Dictionary]
[Extractable Info: Magus Language]
[Cost: 10 Spiritforce]
[Proceed with Extraction?]
Edwyn's grin returned, sharp and reckless. "Oh, hell yeah. Time to level up my brain." He slipped the book into his pocket, leaned back, and mentally confirmed, "Extract."
The world exploded into pain. It felt like someone had cracked his skull open with a sledgehammer and poured molten lead inside. His vision went black, and he collapsed onto the bunk, out cold.
Hours later, Edwyn woke to darkness, his head pounding like he'd gone ten rounds with a dragon. The room was pitch-black, the crystal lamp dimmed to a faint glow. "Tch… note to self: extraction's a bitch," he groaned, rubbing his temples. "Gotta be more careful, or I'll end up napping through my own adventure."
He reached into his soul space, where a white light pulsed above the Infinite Forge. When he touched it, a flood of information poured into his mind, not vivid memories like the Wind Crow Sword Style, but raw data, like someone had uploaded a dictionary straight into his brain. He could read the Magus Language now, every symbol and grammar rule crystal clear. But when he tried sounding out a sentence in his head, it felt stiff, like a kid reading from a script. "So that's the deal," he muttered. "Skills come with muscle memory, ready to roll. Info's just knowledge, takes practice to make it smooth. Good to know."
GROWL!
His stomach roared, reminding him he hadn't eaten in nearly two days. "Alright, alright, keep your pants on," he said, climbing down from the bunk. "Elia? You awake down there?"
"Mmm? You're awake?" Her voice came from the lower bunk, soft but alert, like she'd been waiting for him to stir.
"What time is it, Goldilocks?"
"4:32 a.m."
Edwyn did the math, fourteen hours out cold. "Damn, I went full Sleeping Beauty. Anyone drop off some grub while I was snoozing?"
"Your meal's on the desk," Elia said, her tone oddly guarded. "Go eat."
Edwyn frowned, catching the edge in her voice. Something was off, but he was too hungry to care. He found his meal: two palm-sized rye breads, a slightly charred chicken drumstick, and a bowl of beet soup that looked like it had been sitting there a while. It wasn't a five-star feast, but compared to the moldy sawdust he'd choked down in the Black Forest, it was practically gourmet. He tore into it, savoring the slightly gamey chicken and the earthy tang of the soup. "Phew, that's the stuff," he said, leaning back in the chair. "Could use a beer to wash it down, but I'll take what I can get."
Elia was silent, and Edwyn glanced at her bunk. "You didn't sleep all night, did you? What's the deal? Homesick or something?"
"…A little," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Edwyn shrugged, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yeah, I get it. First time away from home, big scary airship, weirdo mages. It's a lot. But you're here now, so might as well make the most of it, right?"
Elia didn't respond, and Edwyn's grin faded. Her voice had a tremor he hadn't noticed before, like she was holding back tears. "Hey, you okay down there?" he asked, leaning over the edge of the bunk. "You sound like you're about to cry or something."
"Edwyn…" Elia's voice cracked, and she sat up, her pale gold hair catching the faint light. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with fear. "Do you know what the entrance exam says in the handbook?"
Edwyn's stomach dropped, and not from hunger this time. He leaned forward, his usual swagger tempered by curiosity. "No, but I'm guessing it's not a pop quiz on spellcasting. Spill it, Goldilocks. What's the deal?"
She swallowed hard, her voice barely audible. "…It's murder."
Edwyn froze, his grin vanishing. "Murder, huh?" he said, his tone low but steady, a spark of defiance flickering in his eyes. "Well, damn. Looks like this party's about to get wild."