Meeting Elanor Black

As I stood at the back of the room, I couldn't help but notice the quiet hum of conversation that filled the air. Groups of students were already forming, whispering excitedly to one another, their voices carrying bits of nervous energy and budding connections. Some of them were probably from the same elite families, already familiar with each other. Others seemed eager to make alliances early, keen on forming bonds in Class S where every potential connection might matter in the future.

I stayed away, leaning against the back wall, observing the scene but making no effort to join. Socializing wasn't my priority right now—survival was. The less attention I drew to myself, the better.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed someone else sitting alone near the edge of the seating rows, just as detached from the scene as I was. He had an indifferent expression, seemingly content to avoid interaction. I quietly moved toward him and took a seat, leaving one space between us. Neither of us acknowledged the other, and for the moment, that was fine by me.

The murmur of the class continued, growing louder as the students settled into their places, still chattering about the academy, their backgrounds, and their expectations. I picked up on bits and pieces of their conversations—some boasting about their family legacies, others discussing their stats windows or combat potential.

Then, a sudden hush fell over the room. A wave of silence rippled through the students, and I turned my head to see why.

Elanor Black had entered the classroom.

She walked in with an air of authority that immediately commanded respect. Her steps were measured and confident, her dark, flowing robes trailing behind her as if the shadows themselves obeyed her. Her reputation preceded her—a master of the Darkus elements, and one of the most skilled instructors in the academy. Her eyes scanned the room with an intensity that made even the boldest students sit straighter in their seats.

"Good morning, Class," she began, her voice calm yet carrying a weight of command. "I am Elanor Black, your headroom instructor. I'll be guiding you through your time in this academy, ensuring you are prepared for what lies beyond these walls."

The room was silent now, every student's attention firmly on her. She held a roster in one hand, and with a small gesture, a faint glow surrounded the list as she began the roll call. The first name was called.

"Arthur Ashford."

Arthur, seated at the front, raised his hand, his expression composed as always. Elanor continued down the list, calling the names of each of the main cast—Jayden, Melissa, Elana—all of them in turn, until she reached the last name.

"Darius."

I stiffened slightly as I heard my name, quickly raising my hand. Last on the list. Elanor's eyes flickered over to me briefly, giving a nod of acknowledgment before moving on. As the roll call concluded, she paused, surveying the room.

"Now, before we begin, I need to know if any of you have yet to receive your status windows," she said, scanning the students for any raised hands. A few hands went up hesitantly—mine included. I wasn't the only one in the room without this essential tool.

Elanor nodded. "For those of you without a status window, you'll need one of these." With a graceful movement, she produced skill books and handed them to each of us individually. The book she gave me felt strange in my hands—like it was alive, thrumming with a faint magical energy. "These skill books are designed to quantify your potential and determine your current combat class," she explained, her tone matter of fact. "Once you touch them, your status window will appear."

I opened the book, staring at the blank pages for a moment before placing my hand on it. Almost instantly, I felt a surge of energy ripple through me, and before my eyes, a transparent status window appeared, floating in the air. My name, my stats, my skills—everything about me was laid out in front of me in glowing text.

As I stared at the Status Window, the surreal nature of the moment really hit me. It was one thing to read about characters getting their stats displayed in a novel, but it was another to experience it firsthand. Every stat felt like a tangible summary of who I was—my strengths, my weaknesses, and even my future potential.

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Status Window 

Name: Darius (Malik) 

Race: Human 

Potential: Master 

Strength: 23 

Agility: 18 

Intelligence: 30 

Endurance: 20 

Mana: 1 

Luck: 19 

Charm: 17 

Will: 21 

Combat Class: Initiate 

Mana Attribute: Lightning 

Skills: 

- Basic Swordsmanship (Lv. 2) 

- Mana Sensitivity (Lv. 1) 

- Flash Steps (Lv. 1) 

- Foresight (Passive) 

Unknown: 

- [???] 

- [???] 

What stood out the most wasn't my Strength or Intelligence, but the word "Potential"—Master. This was essentially the limit of my growth, the furthest I could push myself before hitting a wall where progress slowed to a crawl. In the novel, characters with Supreme Potential were destined to stand at the peak of the world. They were the ones who shattered expectations and broke through their limits—the heroes. And yet, here I was, far below that threshold. Still, Master Potential wasn't bad. It meant I had a lot of room to grow, even if it wasn't on the same level as the main cast.

As for the Mana Attribute, Lightning, I was still trying to wrap my head around it. It was one of the rarest attributes in the novel, giving its users unparalleled speed and destructive power. Initially, Darius did not have any mana attribute. 'When I learned flash step, could I have also awakened an attribute or was it dormant all along?'

The Skills section intrigued me too. Foresight (Passive) had to be connected to the strange visions and the unusual power I'd felt brewing inside me. Then there was the Unknown section. The fact that two abilities were hidden behind question marks reminded me of the unpredictability of my current situation. They could be linked to my encounter with the dragon or something else entirely.

As I glanced around the room, I saw the other students were still absorbed in their own status windows. Some were grinning, clearly satisfied with their stats. Others looked confused, possibly disappointed. The air was thick with the unspoken tension of competition, as if these numbers would define who would rise and fall in the academy. The quiet murmurs of comparison echoed softly throughout the room.

Elanor Black stood at the front, her sharp eyes scanning each of us as we came to grips with our own potential. There was a calm but commanding presence about her, making it clear that she wasn't just another teacher.

After allowing us a few moments, she broke the silence with her cold, measured voice.

Elanor's voice remained steady, but the weight of her words pressed down on the room like a storm about to break.

"Now that you've all seen your status windows," she began, her sharp eyes scanning each face, "take this time to understand what they mean. Your stats, your potential—they serve as a baseline. Growth here at the academy is not guaranteed. These numbers will change, but not always for the better."

She let the statement linger for a moment, allowing its implications to sink in. The tension in the room grew thicker as everyone grasped the gravity of their situation.

"Your Potential, in particular," she continued, her tone dropping to emphasize the point, "is the most important value here. It reflects the upper limit of your growth. Once you approach that limit, your progress will slow to a crawl. Some of you will plateau sooner than others, and although hard work will not fail you, you will certainly reach a bottleneck in your mana growth"

She paused, letting her gaze sweep across the room, clearly relishing the unease her words caused. "Although there are methods to increase one's potential, these methods come at a great cost. The process requires an enormous amount of resources—resources that, in most cases, only the elite families can afford. Many of you sitting here today, as heirs to prominent households, have already maxed your potential using the advantages at your disposal."

Her words stung, especially for those from less privileged backgrounds. A murmur passed through the room as students exchanged glances, trying to gauge how much their status windows had been influenced by their family wealth.

"But" she added, her voice cutting through the whispers, "that does not mean all hope is lost. The academy has its own means of supporting students it deems worthy. If the academy sees potential in you—if you prove yourself capable and valuable—it will provide the resources to push you further. However," her gaze darkened, "those resources are not handed out lightly. You must earn them, and I assure you, the academy will not invest in anyone it deems unworthy."

A heavy silence followed her statement. The message was clear: the academy was not a place of charity. It was a battlefield of merit, and only the strong would be rewarded.

Her gaze swept the room, lingering on a few students who had visibly reacted to her words.

"However," she continued, "for those of you who are willing to put in the work, this academy will help you reach the pinnacle of your potential. But make no mistake—this is only the beginning. What you do from here will determine how far you go."