The air inside the classroom was taut enough to snap.

Because today is Joined class between Class A and Class B.

Seona's hand hovered near her sword hilt, jaw clenched, eyes blazing with the kind of fury that promised steel if Han so much as breathed wrong. Across from her, Han sat calm, spine straight, gaze like frozen steel. He didn't need to draw his weapon his aura alone screamed danger.

The other students shuffled in their seats, some holding their breath, others secretly hoping for blood. My own fingers twitched, a nervous itch in my palm.

If they go for it now, someone's going to end up in the infirmary. Or worse.

And that was when the door clicked open.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Measured footsteps cut through the tension. Every head in the room turned.

Professor Evelyn entered.

She wasn't dressed like most instructors who preferred light coats or ceremonial robes. Evelyn wore a sharp, dark uniform lined with silver trim, her long hair pinned neatly, her heels striking the floor with the rhythm of authority. But it wasn't her clothes that silenced the room—it was her presence.

One glance from her cool, storm-gray eyes was enough to freeze half the class in place. The sharp scent of her perfume clean, metallic, almost like ozone before lightning only heightened the effect.

She stopped just inside the doorway, her gaze sweeping across the room.

"…I can smell bloodlust," she said finally, her voice soft but cutting, like silk wrapped around steel. "Care to explain why a classroom reeks of a dueling arena?"

No one answered. Seona's hand slipped off her sword hilt almost instinctively, though her shoulders were still tense. Han, as always, betrayed nothing expression smooth, unruffled.

Evelyn tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"No volunteers?" Her eyes narrowed. "Then let me remind you: this is HERO Academy, not a back-alley tavern. If you want to spill blood, take it to the proper arenas. Otherwise…"

Her gaze sharpened, pinning both Leona and Leo in place like nails under glass.

"…you'll answer to me."

A ripple of unease ran through the students. Evelyn wasn't known for raising her voice. She didn't have to. When she spoke, you got the sense that she could dissect you with nothing more than a glance.

That's… terrifying. She didn't even raise her mana, but it feels like the whole room's under pressure.

Han bowed his head slightly, almost respectful. "It was nothing, Professor. A simple disagreement about clubs."

Seona stiffened, but didn't contradict him. Evelyn studied them both for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. Then, with a quiet sigh, she crossed to the front desk, heels clicking against the polished floor.

"Clubs, hm?" She set her papers down with deliberate precision, folding her hands atop them. "Then I suppose we're already on topic."

The tension bled from the air, but only just. Students shifted in their chairs, whispering faintly. I exhaled slowly, finally allowing my shoulders to ease.

Evelyn tapped the board lightly with a piece of chalk, writing in crisp strokes:

CLUB ORIENTATION WEEK

Then she turned back, eyes sweeping the room again.

"You've all survived your first month. Some of you," her eyes flicked toward me briefly, and then to Maria and Eric, "did more than just survive."

A few heads turned in my direction. Heat crawled up the back of my neck, and I quickly looked down at my desk.

"But let me make something clear," Evelyn continued, her tone smooth, clinical, "the Academy is not just about raw power. Clubs exist to temper you, to forge you into something greater than individuals swinging blades alone."

A hand in the front row shot up. "Even the… Gardening Club?"

A few snickers bubbled through the room.

Evelyn's lips curved, just faintly. "Especially the Gardening Club."

Confused laughter spread. Evelyn waited until it died down before continuing, her voice cool, steady.

"Last year, the Gardening Club outmaneuvered half the Combat Guild during the inter-club challenge. Vines, smoke bombs, pollen-based distractions. Most of their opponents didn't even see the trap until they were choking on spores."

My brows lifted slightly. Seriously? Gardening Club did that?

Evelyn's gaze sharpened, scanning the room once more.

"Point is clubs aren't hobbies. They are battlegrounds in their own right. They teach you teamwork, resourcefulness, and discipline. Qualities most of you sorely lack."

A few nobles bristled at her words, but no one dared speak.

"Clubs shape alliances. They build reputations. They create bonds that can decide whether you rise… or fall."

Her words rang with weight, every syllable deliberate.

Elara's fists slowly unclenched. Eric flipped open his planner like nothing had happened. Maria shifted in her seat, sneaking a glance my way.

Meanwhile, I couldn't shake the feeling that Evelyn wasn't just talking about clubs. She was warning us.

---

And just like that, the entire tone of the room shifted from near violence to razor-focused silence.

Evelyn let the silence hang for a moment longer. It was the kind of silence that forced people to squirm, to adjust in their seats, to straighten their backs. Then, she tapped the chalk against the board twice as sharp sound , precise.

"Now. Clubs."

Her voice cut through the hush, clean and direct.

"They are not just extra-curricular distractions. They are a reflection of you—your ambitions, your alliances, and your future roles in society. Choose carefully."

The classroom rustled with quiet murmurs.

I glanced around. Maria was sitting upright, hands folded neatly on her desk, eyes glowing with a subtle spark of interest. Aurelia leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed, a faint, knowing smirk tugging at her lips—like she already had a plan in mind. Eric was frowning, chewing the inside of his cheek, clearly weighing options.

Petric, on the other hand, scoffed loudly. "Tch. Clubs. As if the heir of House Duren needs to waste time in some… student circus."

A ripple of irritation spread through the room. Petric didn't care. He leaned back with the air of someone waiting for applause.

Evelyn didn't even blink. Her storm-gray eyes landed on him like a knife point.

"Petric Duren."

He straightened, stiffening despite himself.

"You may think your name will carry you through life. But names crumble. Legacies end. What remains… are bonds. Connections. Networks."

She paused, letting the words dig into him.

"And if you cannot understand that now, then you will learn it the hard way."

Petric's face flushed red. He opened his mouth to retort—then thought better of it when Evelyn's gaze sharpened.

I fought the urge to smirk. Brutal. But true.

Evelyn turned away smoothly, her heels clicking against the floor as she paced across the front of the room.

"Some of you," she said, "will join combat clubs. Sword, spear, or spell. Others may seek knowledge—alchemy, runes, monsterology. Some will pursue strategy. Others, healing. None are inferior. What matters is commitment."

She stopped near the windows, sunlight framing her like a blade of silver.

"Because here at Velcrest… your club performance is evaluated. Recorded. Compared."

That drew more whispers.

Evelyn lifted a hand, silencing them with a single gesture.

"Annual inter-club tournaments. Practical missions. Joint expeditions. The Academy doesn't care how much mana you can wave around if you can't cooperate under pressure."

Her eyes flicked to me again—just for a fraction of a second. Enough to send a chill down my spine.

…She knows. She definitely knows I'm not just stumbling into this. Damn it.

Evelyn set the chalk down, folding her arms neatly. Her voice softened, but it carried more weight than before.

"Your club will be your second family. Or your downfall. Choose with both head and heart."

The words lingered in the air, heavy and unshakable.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then, slowly, students began to stir some whispering about combat guilds, others about research circles, some even considering the more obscure clubs.

Lyra still looked tense, her eyes flickering toward Aiden with a mix of challenge and unease. Aiden of course, looked as unbothered as ever, jotting something down in his planner with perfect composure.

Leon, sitting a few rows behind me, leaned forward and muttered quietly, "Guess things are about to get interesting."

I didn't reply. My mind was already racing.

Clubs, huh? In the original story, this was where allegiances started shifting. Friendships, rivalries, betrayals… even love interests. Some of the biggest turning points happened during Club Week.

I clenched my fists under the desk.

This is another storm waiting to happen. And if I'm not careful… I'll drown in it.

---

Evelyn clapped her hands lightly, breaking the murmurs.

"Alright. Enough talk. Booths are already being set up in the courtyard. You'll have the afternoon to visit, observe, and register your applications."

A flicker of amusement crossed her lips.

"And remember—just because you're interested in one club doesn't mean they're interested in you. Some of them will test you. Others will outright reject you. Consider it your first lesson in society."

Her words stung more than they should have. Maybe because they were true.

"Class dismissed."

The room exploded into noise. Desks screeched, conversations overlapped. Excitement buzzed in the air.

Maria leaned over to Aurelia, her voice warm and bright. "What do you think? Combat club?"

Aurelia smirked. "Obviously. I'd like to see who's worth my time."

Maria rolled her eyes but smiled, clearly used to Aurelia's arrogance.

Eric muttered under his breath, "I'll aim for the Tactics Society. That's where real leaders are forged."

Petric scoffed again, loudly this time. "Bah Bah. Waste of time."

(To be Continue)

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