Super.Dawg
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Chapter 23
🕑 Added 2025-06-01 23:39:50 +0000 UTCKana arrived at the Academy after nearly half an hour of travel through the bustling capital. The buildings here were different—taller, cleaner, painted in pristine white with elegant designs into the walls. The Academy grounds stretched wide across a tiered hill just above the commoner district, giving a clear view of the bustling city below.
Multiple castle-like buildings crowned the hilltop, their roofs glinting in the sunlight. Around them, carriages lined the stone paths, unloading their young passengers. Most of the new students were around Kana’s age, dressed in crisp white uniforms with dark pants and the academy’s sigil embroidered over their chest—a silver sword behind an open book. Every one of them carried weapons: polished swords, staves, daggers, even a few intricately carved bows.
Kana stepped out of the carriage, adjusting the strap on her travel-worn tunic. Suri followed behind her, graceful even in simpler clothes. Boris hopped down last, eyes wide as he took in the grandeur of the place.
As they stood there, more than a few heads turned. Some students gave them passing glances—curious, amused, or dismissive. Their rougher clothes stood out.
Kana’s hand instinctively brushed the hilt of her dagger. She didn’t care for their looks, but she noticed them all the same.
Jor, ever perceptive, leaned from the front of the carriage and said, “Don’t mind them. Your uniforms haven’t been delivered yet.”
Kana raised a brow. “Why not?”
“You’re from a remote village,” Jor explained. “The Academy doesn’t send deliveries that far. Too costly. Too many villages. You’ll pick yours up on-site.”
He pointed to the rightmost building. “That one there. Some of the other rural kids are likely getting their gear there too. Go on—get fitted and head to the orientation hall after.”
“Aye, sir,” Boris replied with a grin, standing a little straighter.
Kana gave one last glance at the other students—some laughing, others striking dramatic poses with their weapons for friends or servants—and then led the way toward the right building.
……….
As instructed, the trio made their way into the right-hand building. The moment they entered, a few students lounging nearby took one look at their travel-worn clothes and chuckled under their breath—though their laughter faded quickly when their eyes landed on Suri.
Kana and Boris looked a little like bodyguards flanking a noble heir, though they didn’t seem to care. They walked with confidence, ignoring the glances and whispers.
“Hey,” Boris muttered under his breath, leaning toward them, “my Da warned me not to offend any nobles. He said if you cross one, they won’t just hurt you—they’ll ruin your whole family.”
“We know,” Kana and Suri replied in unison.
Suri flashed a mischievous grin. “We could always kill them. Them and their families.”
Both Kana and Boris blinked and turned sharply toward her.
“I’m kidding,” she added with a smirk.
Kana rolled her eyes. “Let’s just ignore them. It’s all bark.”
At the reception desk, a stern woman waited with a stack of papers.
“Village name and your full name,” she said crisply, pen in hand.
“Saltrain Village. Kana.”
“Saltrain Village. Suri.”
“Saltrain Village. Boris.”
The receptionist scribbled something in her ledger, then handed each of them a set of documents.
“Sign here. And here. You’ll find your uniform in the package. Change behind the building, then head to the main hall—the large building in the center of the courtyard. Young ladies, tie your hair neatly.”
A few minutes later, the trio stepped out of the changing area dressed in the clean white and black Academy uniform. Suri and Boris both turned when Kana emerged last—and for a moment, they were speechless.
Without her usual armor and with her long black hair tied back, Kana’s sharp, hidden beauty was fully revealed. Her jawline held the precise cut of a blade; her high cheekbones framed her intense red eyes, now fully visible. Even the slightest shadow under her eyes—from sleepless nights and too many battles—seemed to add to her haunting, almost otherworldly presence.
Stray strands of black hair slipped across her brow, stubbornly refusing to stay tied. The rest flowed in dark waves down to her shoulders like midnight silk.
Suri tilted her head, lips curled. “What a waste of beauty,” she muttered. “You’ll probably go back to hiding it under that armor the second we step off-campus.”
Boris didn’t say anything. He just stared for a few seconds too long before quickly looking away.
Where once the other students had looked at them with sneers and amusement, the tone had shifted. Now, some of the boys were openly glancing at both Kana and Suri—caught somewhere between admiration and nervous awe. Boris noticed it too. His posture stiffened, gaze sharpening. He glared back, and most of them quickly looked away.
They found their seats in the enormous central hall, where dozens—if not hundreds—of new students were gathering. Everyone looked around their age, though very few had the same aura of field-tested experience.
Kana leaned over. “Is it far from here?”
Before they entered the main capital, Suri’s summon had already transformed into a bird to scout the dungeons near the capital.
Suri nodded. “Most of the closer dungeons are high or mid-level and tightly guarded. The low-level ones are far—outside the patrolled zones.”
“I saw one near the outer walls,” Suri added. “Mid-level. No guards.”
Kana raised a brow. “That’s strange.”
Suri smirked. “Because it’s underwater. No one wants to bother.”
Kana chuckled, eyes gleaming. “Perfect. I can hide our items while we’re in the water. Remember?”
“Oh right! We just need time to dry our hair before coming back,” Suri said.
Kana grinned. “Should we just shave our heads like Boris?”
“No way!” they chorused instantly, turning toward Boris, who looked offended.
“Hey, this is tactical,” he said, patting his short hair.
“It’s ugly,” Suri shot back.
“It feels fresh and light,” Boris insisted.
“Still ugly,” Kana said.
….
The lively chatter of the new academy students abruptly faded as a man stepped onto the stage. His presence was commanding—tall and broad-shouldered, with strands of silver threading through his dark hair and a thick beard that framed a stern, composed face. He wore a high-quality white cloak, its trim embroidered with golden runes. A hush fell over the hall.
“Good day, new students,” the man said, his voice deep and resonant. It rolled through the space like a slow-moving storm, and silence took hold instantly.
“I am Professor Light Merigan. Some of you may simply call me Principal,” he continued, his eyes sweeping across the sea of students. “Welcome to the Academy.”
He paused, letting the weight of the moment settle before continuing.
“We received excellent feedback from last year’s reforms—reforms built around a simple idea: potential cannot be measured by your background or your class alone.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“This year, once again, we do not divide you by your starting class. [Knight], [Mage] or [Champion] known to be the best classes’ are irrelevant here. What matters is your skill. Your strength. Your ability to grow.”
He let that sink in, his gaze hardening slightly.
“You will be evaluated and placed accordingly into one of three student rankings: Gold, Silver, or Copper.”
“Gold section students will be recognized as the most promising. You will receive top-tier training, access to exclusive facilities, and certain benefits—some of which will extend to your family.”
“Silver students will receive good training and standard benefits. And Copper students…” He paused again, not cruelly, but firmly. “You will have much to improve. Your future here will depend on your progress.”
He stepped back from the podium slightly. “Your classification will not be based solely on written exams. It will be assessed personally by our professors—based on your capabilities.”
A few nervous glances passed between students. Kana remained calm, expression unreadable. Suri’s lips were pursed, thinking. Boris had his arms crossed and looked ready to swing a spear at someone.
“Now,” Professor Merigan said with finality, “you will proceed to the Examination Hall for your initial assessment.”
He turned and left the stage, his cloak trailing behind him like the closing of a curtain.
