As the murmurs in the great hall settled into silence, two figures entered. One's hair was the crimson shade of fresh blood, stark against skin pale as moonlight. His eyes—black as the depths of the underworld—scanned the crowd with an unyielding gaze. Beside him stood another figure, striking with hair like flowing sapphire and vivid green eyes that shimmered with keen intelligence. The second figure was a whale-beastkin, towering and broad-shouldered, their presence alone commanding respect. Both wore black robes that cloaked them entirely, marked only by a single star emblazoned on each shoulder—the symbol of Rank Six Professors of Erinoguard Academy.
A hush fell over the students. Every one of them sat up straighter, the weight of the moment pressing down like the ancient stones of the academy walls themselves.
The crimson-haired professor spoke first, his voice clear and resonant:
"Welcome to Erinoguard Academy. Before you begin your journey here, it is imperative you understand the laws that govern this institution. Listen carefully."
He gestured to a scroll held by the sapphire-haired professor, who began reading aloud:
⸻
Erinoguard Academy Rules
1. Discipline & Equality
• Erinoguard Academy holds all students as equals, regardless of race, nationality, or lineage.
• Any form of racial discrimination or bias will result in immediate expulsion.
• Physical aggression or bullying is forbidden. If you find yourself targeted, you must challenge your aggressor directly. No faculty or staff will intervene in these disputes.
2. Combat & Challenge System
• Combat between students is only permitted through formal challenges.
• Teachers will not interfere in fights occurring within classrooms or dormitories.
• Weakness is no excuse for victimhood; each student must prove their strength on their own.
• Unauthorized attacks will lead to deduction of points and severe disciplinary consequences.
3. Dormitories & Year Separation
• First-year dormitories house both boys and girls together.
• Senior students reside in separate dorms with distinct facilities and classes.
• Senior students must remain within their designated areas, meeting juniors only under official circumstances.
• Senior and junior interactions outside these bounds are strictly prohibited.
4. Missions & Points System
• Completing missions tests your combat, intelligence, and teamwork skills.
• Points are awarded for mission success, homework, and academy participation.
• Privileges, ranks, and rewards are earned through point accumulation.
• Bullying or unfair conduct results in point penalties affecting your academy standing.
5. Freedom & Restrictions
• Once the academy term begins, students may leave campus only on assigned missions.
• Visits to personal homes or outside locations are forbidden without official clearance.
• This ensures focus, discipline, and safety throughout your studies here.
⸻
The hall was silent for a moment as the students absorbed the gravity of the rules. Elias glanced at Georgina, who nodded solemnly. This was no ordinary academy—it was a crucible designed to forge the strongest and most disciplined.
The crimson-haired professor's gaze swept across the room one last time. "Remember: strength and honor define you here. Let no one tell you otherwise."
The great auditorium trembled under silence.
Stone pillars wrapped in dragonbone, floating chandeliers lit by eternal flame, and a floor etched with celestial runes — this was the heart of Erinoguard Academy, the crucible of legends.
And then…
He entered.
A towering figure in robes of obsidian black, veined with pulsing crimson — like magma caged beneath skin. His presence was not loud, but it bent the room around him. His robes shimmered like dragonscale, regal and indestructible, and along the hems, golden runes flowed like rivers — written in a language older than the continent.
Maxarion Vel Zephyryx.
The Dragon Emperor. The Headmaster. The Apex of the Known World.
He didn't need to raise his voice.
"I will not speak long."
"Do not seek fairness. Seek strength."
"The world does not kneel to justice. It kneels to power."
A silence more complete than death followed.
Then his voice thundered again, slow and deliberate:
"Now… the name of this year's Yearlord."
Every head turned.
Synthros Yzhalith Zephyros stood at once — confident, arrogant, his cloak shifting with practiced precision. It had to be him. He was the strongest.
He took a step forward.
"Arthur Valerian."
The hall shattered into whispers.
Synthros froze mid-step. His face snapped from pride to disbelief, then fury.
Dozens of eyes turned — Elias, Jullian, Veylan, Georgina, Nyssara—all stunned. Even those who didn't know the name felt the weight of it.
Because the name didn't just come with power.
It came with a legacy no one understood.
And then, he appeared.
Arthur Valerian.
A student cloaked in silence, in shadow, in something beyond comprehension.
His hair flowed black with gold accents, as though kissed by starlight.
Golden eyes—not the yellow of mortals, but the molten gold of something unearthly.
He walked calmly, a black uniform tailored to perfection — but his robe…
Not midnight blue. Pure black, etched with gold. The emblem of Erinoguard blazed on his chest like a seal of fate.
No one had ever seen the Yearlord's uniform — because no one had ever dared wear it so boldly.
He passed rows of stunned students. Boys stared. Girls whispered. Nobles clenched their teeth. Warriors gripped their blades. Even Nyssara's usual composure faltered for a breath.
He climbed the steps to the headmaster and bowed — not submissively, but in perfect acknowledgment of power.
Zephyryx gave a single nod.
"Speak."
Arthur turned to the crowd.
His voice was calm. Deep. Steady. The kind that could command armies—or silence storms.
"I am Arthur Valerian."
"This academy is built on legacy, challenge, and strength."
"The title of Yearlord is not a crown. It is a target."
"If you want it—challenge me."
"Until then, fall in line. Earn your points. And prove you belong here."
He stepped down. Silence reigned.
Not a word. Not a breath.
Then Zephyryx raised his hand.
A golden magic circle — vast, ancient, sacred — bloomed across the floor. It spiraled upward like a dragon's seal, swallowing the students in light.
And with a single blink, they were gone.
The hall stood empty once again.
Only the Dragon Emperor remained.
He turned, looking at the trail left behind in Arthur's wake.
And whispered, more to himself than anyone else:
"What a monster…"
"He's already reached it."