Class assignment examinations.

Hertha.

She hadn't just pounced on him for a 'casual sex' as a certain someone said, she had seen many men after she was brought to the underground lair as a 'worker,' you could even tell that she was the most proficient in handling and twisting men's mood swings.

It was one of the arts she had developed to survive, hence from her actions as she lead Marken to the temporary dorm, she observed him deeply, noticed and felt changes in him.

As they continued to walk, she felt a certain sense of security around him which made her behave freely, though his face seemed sculpted to be 'cold,' she felt that with him being around her, she wouldn't need to fear the coldness of the world, hence she made a choice and decided to give herself to him, whether he accepted her or not.

That was why, the more his cold words sounded in her consciousness, the more it hurt.

'Are these really the consequences of the miracle I hoped for?' Hertha thought inwardly with her head hung low.

Clenching the red scarf hung around her neck, "Why did you have to….." she mumbled, she felt a if somebody was chocking her to death, but even that feeling reminded of how she was chocked when they were…..

Tears streamed out of her eyes profusely, yet gradually, a crazed grin marred her face as her eyes were devoid of emotions.

"Won't your actions have consequences? Aren't I a consequence too?" She muttered as her crazed grin widened, giving her a demonic look.

"Hehe, hehehehe, he…."

*

Walking amidst of the trees around the Dreams Academy,

The shoulder length black haired man, with crimson blindfold, and sharp, cold, yet charming facial features, suddenly halted in his steps.

Taking out a ticket out of nowhere, he faced down at it, before a grin crept up his charmingly cold face.

The ticket in the man's hand turned into light particles and dissipated to the air before a familiar chime sounded in his mind.

DING-!

[Skill acquisition ticket used]

[Select a skill]

A long never-ending list of skills appeared in his mind, but he merely ignored it and,

"Pick [Sacrifice]" Ken muttered.

[Skill [Sacrifice] selected]

"Use [Sacrifice]"

[Skill [Sacrifice] activated]

[[Sacrifice] is effecting [Skills], [Stats], [Levels], [Items], [Titles], [Consumables], and [Weapons] of the selected class] [Do you wish to continue?] [Y/N]

Understanding the notification,

"Sacrifice [Class] too, but ignore [Stats]." He commanded after checking the changes, Ken clicked [Y] without hesitation.

[[Sacrifice] is creating an appropriate gift for your sacrifice…..]

DING-!

[[?%@!₹$¥#] Skill has been created by [Sacrifice]]

[Error]

[Error]

...

…..

With a series of repetitive, mind ringing notifications that began to annoy Ken, he suddenly felt his connection with the system being severed, stunning him.

"Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggggggh!!!!" Suddenly, Ken knelt on the ground and scream in agony.

Pain of kinds he hadn't ever felt assaulted him.

He felt as his soul was being ripped off, and with a snap that resounded in his consciousness, Ken lost consciousness.

*

Three days passed in a flash.

Announcement of the day being "Class assignment examinations" took place throughout the academy, which was dyed in a jovial mood.

Nobles, Guilds, and hidden powerhouses had made their appearances today; many hoped to garner attention of any one of the powerhouses and get stronger while enjoying life in their backers' names, noble heirs and descendants hoped to make their parents and family elders proud, while those sponsored by the guilds hoped to have their sponsor's entertained as if was the point way they could be ahead of the rest.

In a coliseum, the powerhouses and houses with powers that could make it, sat in the glassed VIP chambers that floated mid-air and geared the way the houses VIPS willed.

The commoners and middle class families sat in the coliseum seats, but the difference between both of them was out for a blatant display.

Yet, since everybody had seen and been the same way since their births, they saw nothing wrong with it.

Those with money can afford it, while those without, couldn't.

Simple.

The crowd cheered, gazing at the cylindrically displaying screens, while a dense mist covered the entirety of the arena which held the mist within by a strong dome.

Inside the dome were the trainees, who were wandering around the mist aimlessly and anxiously.

Every cadet was being displayed on a separate screen which was slowly revolving of that the trainees were seen by all.

Every spectator held a remote control like thingy, which helped them cast votes and place bets on the trainees they hoped to see win.

The commentators sat with a mic-like object in their hands as miniature magic spells glowed on them; the commentators' energy would ride and influence the crowd's temperament, hence it was an extremely difficult job for many, but…..

'they were professionals for a reason.' The commentators muttered inwardly, in unison, unbeknownst to the rest.

Taking a deep breath, "HELLLLLLLLLOOOOOOO!!!! Every….. BODY!! WELCOME..." The commentators began to anchor the event which was made a big deal out of every year.

As they, the commentators, expected, the crowd responded with a similar energy and cheered wantonly…..

Much to their surprise and shock, a if somebody casted a silence spell, from a side, the whole crowd turned silent as if a wave had passed.

Confused as to what had happened, those who hadn't the slightest idea, turned up to gaze at the screens, only to notice a screen displaying a devilishly charming long black haired man, with a crimson coloured but old seeming blindfold tied around his eyes, in a blindfold.

He was clad in black, even though the clothes seemed to be commoner clothes, ready-made, they didn't lower his charm even a bit, instead seemed to amplify it.

The more charming yet ominous part of the immobile figure was the sword hung up his waist.

The air around him seemed to only listen to him, as it blew softly against him, making his clothes and hair, tied-up in a bun, slightly flutter under the breeze. The well-defined muscles under his black clad clothes were out for display as the mere sight of him standing immobile garnered the attention of all.