Classroom

I followed the crowd to the noticeboards, the same hall where we had received our student kits earlier. The air was thick with anticipation, the buzzing excitement of a thousand students all eager to learn their class assignments. The crowd was packed tight, voices rising in excitement as students scanned the lists, each hoping for the best. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me as I squeezed through the mass of bodies, eyes darting around for my number 3747.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat like a hammer striking an anvil. Getting a good class was crucial; the academy would be my steppingstone, my safeguard in this unpredictable world. But there was one class I needed to avoid at all costs: 'Class S'. It wasn't just the academy's top-tier class, reserved for the best and brightest—'Marcus Morningstar', the main antagonist, and the heroes of the novel were all there.

They were trouble magnets. Wherever they went, chaos followed. In the novel, it was their fate, their destiny, to be tested by endless trials. Those trials made them stronger, yes, but they also brought danger and hardship to everyone around them. I had no desire to get caught up in all of that. My plan was simple—stay out of the limelight, live a steady life, and quietly prepare for the inevitable invasion of the 'Demon Emperor'. Let the heroes fight the grand battles. I would handle things behind the scenes, avoiding the spotlight as much as possible.

But as I made my way closer to the board, a heavy sense of dread began to creep over me. It was hard to explain, like a bad premonition gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. My pulse quickened, and my palms began to sweat as I pushed my way closer to the lists.

When I finally found the section marked '3740-3750, I scanned it quickly. My heart nearly stopped when my eyes landed on it.

*Darius – Class S.*

'What the hell, why am I in class S, wasn't that class for only for those with extraordinary potential or in other words geniuses, my results could not possibly be good enough for me to get into Class S'

Shock washed over me, my brain scrambling to make sense of it. I knew I had performed decently during the entrance exams—mental strength, physical tests, even the duel—but not this well. Class S was for the best of the best, for those who showed exceptional potential. According to the novel, only those destined to play a major role in the future of the world ended up there.

This wasn't part of the plan. I had only hoped for Class A or maybe Class B—good enough to stay out of the spotlight but still keep up with the training I'd need to survive. But Class S is too much. That was where the heroes were. And Marcus Morningstar, the villain who would bring about the downfall of many, was there as well.

My mind raced, trying to figure out how this could've happened. Had I messed up somewhere? Had my efforts gotten someone's attention? Was this some kind of twist in the narrative that the original story never mentioned?

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to look at the next board, the one displaying the class registries. I found Class S and scanned the list for my name. There it was, at the very bottom. And next to it, the name of my headroom instructor—Elanor Black.

Everything was spinning out of control. I couldn't shake the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Fate had pushed me into the heart of the storm, and I wasn't sure I was ready for it. The shock of it all made me uneasy. The novel's plot wasn't supposed to unfold like this. What did this mean for my future? Was this a mistake?

Elanor Black as my instructor? This was getting more surreal by the second.

As I made my way toward the classroom building, still digesting the shocking turn of events, I noticed the main cast of the novel entering through the doors ahead of me. There they were—Arthur, Jayden, Melissa, Elena, and several other key characters from the story. They all looked so familiar; their personalities already deeply ingrained in my mind from countless chapters. It felt bizarre seeing them in person now, knowing that I was in the same class as them.

Just as I was about to step through the doorway, someone in front of me came to an abrupt stop. Caught off guard, I walked right into him.

"Watch it," a sharp voice snapped.

I looked up to see Adam Williams, one of Marcus Morningstar's closest lackeys and a key reason why Jayden and Arthur never quite saw eye to eye. In the novel, Adam was known for his imposing stature and unyielding loyalty to Marcus, serving as the perfect enforcer. He was tall, towering over most of the first years, and his broad shoulders and muscular build made him look like a tank—both physically and in the role he'd later play. His presence alone was enough to keep most people at bay.

His cold, gray eyes locked onto mine for a moment, the weight of his gaze making my stomach churn. His expression was unreadable, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, like he was assessing whether or not I was worth his time. Then, without a word, he shrugged and turned back around, dismissing me like I was nothing.

Adam was as intimidating as I remembered from the novel. His jet-black hair, slicked back with gel, gave him a polished yet menacing appearance. Though we both had black hair, his looked sharper, meticulously styled, as if every strand was in place to remind others of his rank and power. It was clear that he wasn't just some random lackey—he was a force to be reckoned with.

I swallowed hard, trying not to let my nerves show. "Sorry," I muttered, stepping back quickly to avoid further confrontation. The last thing I needed was trouble with people like Adam and his crew. But I still made sure to hold his gaze for a brief moment. If there was one thing I had learned about bullies, it was that showing weakness was like bleeding in a pool of sharks. They fed off fear, and the more intimidated you seemed, the worse it got.

There was a saying from my world that I kept in mind: 'Be humble to those who show you humility, and be more arrogant than those who display arrogance before you.' I wasn't about to bow my head to people like Adam just because they walked around like they owned the place.

Adam lingered for a second longer, his sharp eyes narrowing as if gauging my worth. Then, just as quickly, he dismissed me, walking away without a second glance. It was as if I didn't even register on his radar. I let out a quiet sigh of relief. That could have gone much worse.

Still, blending into the background was going to be difficult now that I was in Class S. With only forty students, all handpicked for their remarkable abilities, standing out was inevitable. Each of us was chosen not just for our skill, but for our potential to shape the future. Adam Williams, Arthur, Jayden, Marcus Morningstar, and the rest of the main cast... they were all destined for something greater, something dangerous. And now, I was stuck right in the middle of it all.

Staying under the radar was going to be harder than I thought.

The class I was about to enter wasn't just prestigious—it was cutthroat. While other classes had a large number of students, often fifty to seventy per class, Class S had only forty, making it one of the hardest to get into. The students here weren't just elite; they were future leaders, prodigies, and the best the academy had to offer.

I followed the main cast into the classroom, feeling like an outsider in a place where I didn't belong. The moment I stepped inside, the sheer grandeur of the room hit me. Tall, arched windows lined one side of the wall, letting in streams of natural light that bathed the room in a soft, golden glow. The glass was crystalline, framed by intricate silverwork that glinted in the daylight. The windows opened out to a view of the academy's vast grounds, where towering trees and manicured gardens stretched out as far as the eye could see.

The room itself was designed like a lecture hall, with tiered rows of seats ascending in perfect symmetry towards the back. Each row was slightly elevated from the one before, allowing every student a clear view of the front. The desks were crafted from a dark, polished wood that gleamed under the sunlight, their surfaces smooth and cool to the touch. It was an odd blend of old and new—while the architecture screamed tradition, the technology on each desk told a different story.

In front of every seat was a sleek, device—the same one I had seen in my dorm room. It seemed to be a multi-functional tool, likely used to display information, provide access to resources, and serve as a communication hub during lessons. I couldn't help but be curious about how it worked, the academy clearly valued technology as much as tradition.

Yet, despite the advanced tech, there was also a notebook on each desk. Its cover was bound in thick leather, the pages smooth and faintly yellowed, as if carefully aged to perfection. Beside it lay an ink pen, its tip gleaming with a faint metallic sheen. It seemed the academy still valued the practice of taking notes by hand, perhaps believing it helped reinforce learning better than relying on digital means alone. The mix of magic, technology, and tradition here was fascinating.

The room was quiet, almost unnervingly so, as I settled into a seat near the back. My mind was still racing. How had I ended up in Class S, a place reserved for the best of the best? The stakes had just been raised significantly. I was now surrounded by the main cast—Arthur, Jayden, Melissa, Elena—and others, all of whom would play pivotal roles in the unfolding story. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to be this close to them, especially not this early in the game.

As I sat there, my fingers running over the notebook, the weight of the situation began to settle in. The room, despite its beauty and grandeur, now felt like a pressure chamber. I couldn't shake the sense that something was off, that somehow, I had disrupted the natural flow of the story. What did this mean for the future? For the plot? For my survival?

Whatever the answers were, I knew one thing for sure: blending into the background wouldn't be easy anymore. In Class S, the stakes were higher, the risks greater, and my every move would be under scrutiny. I glanced out the tall windows, the sunlight feeling a little less warm now. The academy, for all its beauty and prestige, was a place where fate was forged—and I had just been thrown into the fire.