The Extra is a Genius!?

The Grand Hall was filled with the quiet tension of a new beginning. Below, rows upon rows of fresh first-year students sat in silence, their eyes fixed on the stage. Sunlight filtered through enchanted stained-glass windows, painting the polished floor with warm patterns. Crimson and gold banners hung above, proudly bearing the crest of the Academy.

At the front of the hall, Nicolas von Aldros stood tall behind the podium. Dressed in formal robes, hands resting calmly on the edge, he began to speak—his voice carrying effortlessly across the massive room.

"Welcome to the Imperial Academy of Valor. Today, your journey begins. You will learn more than just magic or swordsmanship here. You will learn what it means to survive. To adapt. And if you’re lucky... to thrive."

The message was clear, as it always was: many enter. Few succeed.

Up on one of the viewing balconies, Noel leaned against the railing with his arms crossed. Attendance wasn’t required for second or third years, but he had chosen to come anyway. A new year meant new players on the board—and it never hurt to observe.

He scanned the crowd below. Hundreds of unfamiliar faces. Full of nervous excitement and untamed ambition.

’So many variables,’ he thought.

He didn’t recognize most of them—not that it mattered much. Things had already changed from how they were written. That meant anything could happen now.

From the corner of his eye, he caught movement—another figure on the same balcony.

Dior.