"..."
I silently followed after our homeroom teacher, Zion was walking beside me.
We kept a steady pace as our class moved down the grand stone hallway of the freshman building, the rhythmic sounds of dozens of marching shoes echoing off the tall walls around us.
"Wow, so the academy provides us weapons too, huh."
He said, scooting over to me.
He leaned in slightly toward my side, keeping his voice lowered to a confidential tone so he wouldn’t draw the professor’s attention.
"They provide normal weapons that we can use—but we can have our own personalized as well."
I told him.
I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead on Professor Ulfar’s dark coat, speaking casually as we navigated the wide corridor.
"So they’re just giving us mass produced ones?"
Zion asked.
"Yeah, but even those are quality ones."
I explained.
"The academy’s standard issue gear is forged by certified master blacksmiths using high-grade mana alloys. They aren’t trash."
"Also, there’s a chance you can also get a special weapon."
Then I followed with that.
I paused for a brief second, giving him a knowing look out of the corner of my eye.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
Zion asked.
He tilted his head, his curiosity clearly piqued as he waited for me to elaborate on what he had assumed was just a routine equipment trip.
"There are some exceptional weapons in the armory, they’re called named weapons. The students have access to them."
I stated.
"What? Then wouldn’t just anyone take them?"
Zion asked.
He raised an eyebrow, his straightforward logic immediately pointing out the obvious flaw in letting hundreds of new students loose around such equipment.
"That’s the thing about these weapons, not just anyone can use them—even the professors and professional heroes."
I stated.
He looked confused, so I explained more to him.
"These weapons are called bound-weapons; they choose their own owner. If someone tried to use them without their permission; they will become very heavy that even just swinging them takes a lot of energy."
"They have special abilities as well that only their chosen owner can know and use. and what’s more; they adapt to the owner’s mana after bounding to them—so they grow stronger along with the user."
I said.
In the game, these things were explained to Zion—the players—as they go to the armory with Ulfar Crow; the homeroom teacher.
In the original game route, Ulfar would give a long, detailed monologue to the entire class about the history and mechanics of the armory before letting anyone step foot inside the doors.
I figured that because this is real life; then Zion wouldn’t hear that explanation.
With dozens of students whispering amongst themselves and moving at a rapid pace, a quiet, individual explanation wasn’t going to just fall into his lap naturally.
He will be oblivious of this information, and this turned out to be true. That’s why I’m acting as his tutorial explanation.
I was essentially filling in the exact narrative exposition that the protagonist needed to progress his character development smoothly.
"He’s right."
As we were walking, I heard a deep voice say that.
The low, gravelly tone sliced through our quiet conversation, causing my heart to jump slightly in my chest.
Zion and I looked in front of us where it came from; and we saw Professor Ulfar looking at the two of us. Our classmates as well.
The professor had stopped in his tracks, turning his head over his shoulder to cast his tired, sharp eyes directly onto me. The rest of Class 1-F had also slowed down, their heads turned to look at the two of us.
Looks like they heard my explanation about the special weapons just now.
My voice had carried just a bit too far in the quiet stone hallway, catching the ears of the veteran instructor walking at the front of the line.
"What’s your name?"
The professor asked me.
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, standing tall in his black coat as he evaluated me with a stern, unreadable expression.
"Vael Frostguard, Sir."
I answered.
I stood straight, meeting his gaze directly without flinching as I delivered my name clearly for the whole class to hear.
"Hmm, from that family... no wonder you’re knowledgeable about the weapons."
He said before turning his head back at front to lead us all.
He let out a short, quiet exhale, his posture relaxing just a fraction as he recognized my lineage.
"Five additional points for you, now I don’t have to explain what’s inside the armory."
Professor Ulfar declared.
He resumed walking down the corridor with long, deliberate strides, his heavy boots echoing off the floor.
"Did everyone hear that properly?"
He asked.
His deep voice boomed down the hall, addressing the entire group of the other students following behind him.
"YES, SIR!"
And my classmates answered in unison.
Their voices echoed back in a loud, synchronized shout that rattled the decorative banners hanging from the walls.
"Good, so take your time and pick a weapon that suits you. Having a weapon you can use to its full potential is important to keep your lives."
Professor added, and after that—we continued on our way to the armory peacefully.
He didn’t say another word, simply guiding us through two more massive sets of double doors until we reached the lower subterranean levels of the academic complex.
"Wow, you already received an extra point... you’re really something else."
Zion whispered beside me.
He gave me an appreciative grin, nudging my shoulder playfully with his elbow as we walked side by side.
It was unexpected for me as well, but I’m happy with it as well.
I hadn’t planned on lecturing the class or fishing for teacher’s pet points on my first morning.
But I need all the points I can get to have good grades after all and to stay in this academy.
In a strict, merit-based system like [The Star Academy], academic points directly dictated class placements, resource access, and dorm privileges. Every single extra point was a vital safety net for my survival.
*****
We arrived at the armory not long after, and when we got there; students from the other classes are already inside.
The subterranean hall was colossal, spanning the size of multiple indoor arenas with high, vaulted ceilings held up by massive stone pillars. Thousands of weapons were neatly arranged on iron racks, glass displays, and weapon stands stretching as far as the eye could see.
We get called in the armory based on our section rankings.
The system was straightforward: Class 1-A had entered first, followed by B, C, D, and E, taking their pick of the finest standard gear available.
The higher sections had already been here and left with weapons of their choice. Our section are probably one of the last batches to pick their weapons in the armory.
By the time Class 1-F stepped across the threshold, the majority of the popular, high-grade standard racks had already been picked clean by the higher-ranked students.
"..."
I looked around and saw the main characters that will team up with Zion later in the story.
They were gathered near the central raised platform where the most radiant, high-density mana signatures were housed under protective spell barriers.
All of them are from the Special Class called the [Z-Class]. Zion’s rival was also there.
The elite prodigies stood out instantly, radiating an air of complete confidence and authority as they inspected the rare displays without any rush.
Unlike other sections, they can stay here at the armory to pick their weapons carefully; that’s how much special treatment they have.
While standard classes like ours were given a strict time limit to grab a weapon and move out, the top ten students of the entire freshman year had unlimited access to the facility.
Well, they did earn it with their incredible talent so it’s not like anyone can complain.
Their entrance exam scores, raw mana capacity, and combat assessments were completely off the charts compared to the rest of the student body.
There are only 10 students in the [Z-Class], Zion will be promoted to that class later in the story so their number will increase.
Right now, the seat count was capped at a strict ten, but once the first major practical assessment took place, the protagonist would inevitably smash his way into their ranks.
Anyway, they’re all carefully looking at the special weapons, they are really confident that they will be chosen.
They circled the glowing glass pedestals housing the bound-weapons, reaching out to test their resonance with calm, deliberate expressions.
They are all eye-catching as well with their appearance; making most eyes on them. But they’re simply ignoring all of it and just focusing on picking their weapons.
The students from Class 1-F who had just entered were all staring at them with a mixture of awe, envy, and intimidation, keeping a respectful distance from the central platform.
"Are those the weapons you mentioned?"
Zion asked, he was looking at where the main characters are. I just nodded my head in confirmation.
He pointed a finger toward the glowing pedestals in the center of the hall, his dark eyes wide with genuine fascination as he looked at the intricate, ancient designs of the bound-weapons.
"Let’s both take a look at them later together!"
He then invited me.
His voice was so loud that some eyes turned to us. And the looks we got aren’t that good.
His energetic tone echoed sharply across the quiet stone armory, drawing immediate glances from the surrounding students, faculty staff, and even a few members of the [Z-Class].
Most students who learned about the special weapons doesn’t even think that they will get chosen; it was obvious that if the weapon chose its user—then it’s going to be those people in the [Z-Class] or higher class; the talented ones.
To the average students, even dreaming of approaching a bound-weapon was considered an embarrassing display of arrogance.
Well, they aren’t wrong—every student who got a special weapon are from the [Z-Class]; it was recorded in the academy’s history.
For the past fifty years, not a single student outside of the top elite tier had ever successfully formed a contract with a named weapon in this armory.
So they’re all looking at us like were being ridiculous and delusional.
Scoffing noises and muted giggles broke out among the surrounding Class 1-F students, while a few upperclassmen instructors shook their heads in exasperation at Zion’s loud declaration.
"Sure, let’s try them."
I just ignored them all and said that to Zion.
I kept my voice completely even, giving him a calm nod without letting the condescending glares around us bother me in the slightest.
Hearing this made even more student look at us like that; even some faculty workers around and some professors.
’I would like to see their face later once Zion takes his own special weapon.’
I thought with a small smile on my face.
I kept my mouth shut, hiding my amusement as I imagined the absolute shock that was about to hit every single person in this room when a low-ranked class produced a bound weapon holder.