War God Asta!

The inner part of a Dark-Bane Academy was even more magnificent and massive than what it looked than on the outside.

As Tron wandered the sprawling complex of the Arcane Academy, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.

The academy was a marvel of mystical architecture, with various buildings, courtyards, and towers that seemed to defy gravity as they pierce the clouds.

At the center of the academy stood the imposing Great Arcane Tower of the Elements, its five levels representing the fundamental arcane forces: earth, air, fire, water, and aether.

The tower's intricate stone carvings seemed to pulse with a gentle, magical energy, as if the elements themselves were alive and present.

A few hundred meters was the labyrinth

The Arcane Library beckoned, its massive but humble structure contained shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes, scrolls, and manuscripts whispering secrets of magic theory, spellcasting, and mystical creatures.

As he moved another kilometer forward he saw the Spellcasting Halls, with their soaring tower and intricate stone carvings, seemed to hum with magical energy, as if the very air itself was alive with possibility.

Tron could almost hear the whispers of ancient spells and incantations echoing off the walls.

In contrast, the Alchemy Labs seemed a little more subdued and mysterious. As students exited and entered the building, they seemed even more respectful as though this was the most important place in the entire academy.

As Tron explored further, he discovered the serene Elemental Courtyard, the Celestial Observatory, the Mystic Gardens, lush and enchanted, the Arcane forgery for Arcane tools or magical objects, the Infirmary of Silver Moon, the Secret Archive and the Rune Mastery Courtyard.

Every where he looked, he saw evidence of the academy's history and mystical heritage.

Gothic spires and turrets reached toward the sky, while intricate stone carvings depicted magical creatures, symbols, and elemental motifs. Stained glass windows filtered the light, casting colorful, mystical glows across the floors and walls.

Tron felt satisfied at the moment. Knowing everything had had gone through to get here was worth it and he wouldn't stop here, not until he learn how he could repair his Arcana Cortex and wield magic, true magic.

He stood at the entrance of the Rune Mastery building which had a massive ten meters tall statue of a brily muscular man. The man was bald but possess a large white beard with his entire body covered in mystical runes that seem to contain secrets of nature itself.

His dressing didn't seem to be of this time but of the prehistoric era. A simple, worn leather loincloth that provides minimal coverage, leather-bound bracers on his arms, adorned with small metal accents.

His entire being radiate brutality and an oppressive energy wave that glare at those who dared to look for too long.

Just as Tron was admiring the statue, a sweet voice, similar to the sounds of countless birds tweeting instantly came from behind him.

"You must be one of the new students that came in recently."

Tron immediately frowned as his pupils constricted. Although there were students walking by the street, Tron was at least able to notice them. But he hadn't even seen when this person came to his back.

This instantly made his expression turned cold as he slowly turned back.

The person who had spoke was actually a young lady that didn't seem older nor younger than him. They seem to be of the same age.

Her shirt was a short flowing, silky confection, the crochet top she wore over it added a touch of  beauty, revealing her midriff and a bit of cleavage.

Her black skirt, flowed behind her like a banner, its silky material catching the breeze and sending shimmering waves of light dancing across the floor.

A worn, fitted leather jacket slung casually over her shoulder added a touch of rebellious flair to her outfit. Her knee-high boots, clicking out a rhythmic pattern on the stone floor.

As she moved, her hair seemed to come alive, wild curls springing out from her head like a tumble of autumn leaves, with a few loose strands framing her face like a delicate, golden halo. Her green eyes sparkled like diamonds in the soft light, as she pieced her gaze towards him.

Tron's mind temporarily went blank before immediately composing himself. Staring back at the statue, replied."You're right. Injust got admitted into the academy. "

The young lady walked forwards until she was shoulder to shoulder with Tron, chuckling softly as he cheeks morphed to formed two perfectly shaped dimples.

"This is a replica statue of the War God, Sir Asta. His battle records are legendary and the level of strength he possess are said to be myths. While he wasn't the first Rune Magus, he was the most powerful one to have existed as long as history dates back to. However, it's been a while since a Rune Magus was able to reach half  that level of strength "

Tron listened to her carefully. Her words made him really interested. He didn't think an ordinary statue possess this type of extraordinary background story.

"Who are you?" Tron directly asked her and didn't bother beating round the bush. He knew where he was and was well aware that no one did things out of the kindness of their hearts. Not every one was like Sethra.

The young lady appeared a bit surprised by Tron's bluntness and only spoke after a while. "People call me Lana around here and I'm a second-year student, nice to meet you."

She was second year? Which meant that she was at least a Rank-2 Twin-circle magus. She was even more powerful than Valtor and Xavier. Tron couldn't help but turn to look at her once more. She certainly didn't look the type which made her even more dangerous.

"Oh, you can call me Tron." Tron replied neither respectful nor disrespectful. He was now a student and didn't have to greet anyone like the servant he was before.

"Tron? That's a nice name . I think I heard a rumor about an incident flying around along with that name. Can't really recall it." The young lady robbed her chin in thought and then waved her hand after sometime as though she didn't want to disturb her self, thinking too much about it.