Finding my first class isn’t that hard, thankfully.
We ride a platform to the ground, then spend a good ten minutes walking in a rush to arrive before a multi-level stone building. Through a wide set of open double doors is a long hallway lined with doors, each opening to huge classrooms with tiered seating.
Some—definitely not me—may wonder how, exactly, I got here while being asleep on my feet.
Whether it was because Cari and Bella were both heading to the same class or because I’m amazing, the world may never know.
I’m too tired to figure it out, either way.
“You’re welcome.”
I jolt back to full consciousness when Cari whispers directly into my ear, her tone a little more smug than I’d usually tolerate.
With 'Monster Identification 1' being mandatory for all first-years, the place is already packed by the time we arrive.
Students flood the hallways in dense clusters, conversations echoing off the stone walls as people shuffle from classroom to classroom with schedules clutched tightly in hand. Some already look exhausted.
Others look horrifyingly awake.
I automatically don’t trust those ones.
I pull my Student ID from my storage and tap it lightly, then wince when glowing numbers flare to life across the surface.
05:52.
A quiet, wounded noise escapes me before I can stop it.
Several heads turn instantly. The people nearest us and some beastkin, mostly—but still. I duck my head a little to seem inconspicuous. A couple catch my eye, though.
One wolfkin boy near the doorway snorts loudly into his hand, while a catkin girl farther down the hall gives me a weary look of such deep understanding that—even while mildly embarrassed—I feel spiritually connected to her.
With only a couple of minutes to spare, we manage to squeeze into the classroom.
The room itself is massive, with rows of tiered seating curving downward toward a broad stone platform at the front.
Cari and Bella both immediately start angling us toward the front.
I capitulate, clearly already outnumbered. Once I’m sandwiched between the two monsters, I lower the small desk panel attached to my seat and immediately collapse onto it.
My earrings clank against the wood as my ears flop forward dramatically.
They chuckle, but neither stop me.
Then the bells ring.
Conversations slowly die down as a tall, broad-shouldered man strides into the room through a side door near the front platform. His hair is streaked heavily with gray despite the otherwise solid build beneath his dark coat, and a long scar disappears beneath the collar near his throat.
Human FighterLevel ??
Not just a professor, then.
His eyes sweep the room once, his intense gaze lingering on particularly chatty students until they finally go silent.
“Welcome to Monster Identification One,” he says evenly. “I am Professor Halden. I’ll save you the lengthy introduction and simply say this: if you intend to delve for a living, this may very well become the most important class you take during your first year. If you don’t, then this class may still save your life—or the lives of others.”
His voice isn’t loud, but it carries through the room with perfect clarity.
“Most monsters in the Tunnels stay where they belong. Some do not. When they escape, people die. Your ability to identify what you’re facing quickly and accurately can determine whether those deaths stop at one... or become thousands.”
The room stills further.
Even I manage to stay awake through most of the introduction.
Mostly.
Unfortunately, “mostly” turns out not to be enough.
The next thing I know, something strikes my desk sharply enough to make me jolt upright.
I throw myself out of my chair as I instinctually activate All For One and Arcane Regulation—
—then freeze as laughter erupts throughout the classroom.
Professor Halden stands directly beside me, one brow raised as he slowly retracts the long metal pointer he’d apparently used to smack my desk.
“Glad to see you’ve rejoined us,” he says dryly.
My face burns instantly, and I quickly take my seat once more.
Cari winces when I glance her way, giving me a shrug that all but screams ‘You asked for it.’
Bella, somehow, remains perfectly stoic.
Except for the faintest twitch at the corner of her lips.
Oh, you treacherous little...
Professor Halden turns away from me, tapping the metal pointer against the stone floor once, pulling me from my thoughts of vengeance.
“Sleeping is not permitted in my classroom,” he says, voice louder now than before. “Because this information matters.”
A massive panel behind him flickers to life in a wash of mana, an image appearing across its surface in a strange working of illusory magic.
A bipedal reptilian creature appears, its snout sticking out far too much for the size of its own body. Crooked, broken teeth poke out of its mouth, with two beady eyes that promise endless annoyances and cruelty aimed right at the classroom.
A kobold.
Professor Halden gestures toward it.
“What is it?” he asks, his gaze locked pointedly on me and me alone.
Oh, gods, it’s not over...
I give the image a cursory glance, trying to see if there’s some trick to the question.
But nope. It’s just a kobold.
“A kobold?” I answer cautiously.
He nods once.
“And its primary threat?”
“Traps,” I answer a little more confidently. “Usually pits or snares.”
“Correct.”
Another image replaces it.
This one resembles a swollen spider with a pitch black carapace, tinged with red at its joints and belly.
He quirks a brow at me expectantly.
“A Tunnel Widow,” I answer after a moment. “Webs, sneak attacks, venom, and... it’s big?”
“Good.”
A third image appears. A Tunnel Wyrm. Giant stone eating wyrms that burrow through the ground in hordes, seeking meat and water alike.
Then a fourth. A Lesser Tunnel Drake. A four armed, six eyed scaley creature that spits acid with the split in its lower jaw.
Every answer comes a little easier than the last as my mind fully wakes up, the earlier embarrassment slowly fading as nearby students begin giving gradually more and more impressed looks.
Maybe this won’t be so ba—
Then the next image appears.
My confidence immediately dies.
The creature on the panel is... wrong. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Too many limbs.
Too many joints.
Its mouth stretches vertically down the center of its torso, lined with spiraling rows of teeth that continue far deeper than they should.
I stare at it blankly.
Professor Halden watches me for several long seconds.
“Well?”
“I... I don’t know.”
“Good!” he says immediately.
The answer catches me so off guard that I flinch.
“You admit when you are lacking. There are too few students who can do the same.”
A few students laugh nervously.
Professor Halden taps the image with the metal pointer.
“This is a Carrion Maw. Last year, this creature emerged from a Tunnel breach near the Beastkin capital of Igrisia. It killed one thousand three hundred and twenty-two people before a response force managed to bring it down.”
The room goes silent.
“The majority of those deaths occurred within the first twenty minutes,” he continues calmly. “Do you know why?”
Nobody answers.
“The first responders dropped the gates on its head, thinking it was vulnerable to physical trauma. A reasonable tactic, if it were almost any other creature.”
Another tap against the image.
“Except it also secretes highly compressed and extremely poisonous gases from any wound it sustains. The best way to kill it is with fire or water. Burn it, or drown it.”
The image changes again.
Bella actually gasps softly beside me, her face tightening into a mask of shame.
Professor Halden notices immediately.
For just a moment, some of the sharpness leaves his expression as he gives her a small, apologetic nod before turning back toward me.
“And this?”
All I can see is a floating mass of pale tendrils.
I shake my head.
“A Driftleech. Nineteen of these breached the Chasm of Bysmara three years ago. Seven thousand eight hundred and twelve dead, a third of which were children.”
The room goes completely still.
I stare at the image with growing horror. When I glance toward Bella, I find her head bowed low, one hand clenched tightly enough around her pen that I’m surprised it doesn’t snap.
“They slip from shadow to shadow,” Professor Halden continues evenly. “The Bysmara gate defenders believed the failing lights were caused by mana instability from the breach itself.”
Another tap against the image.
“They were wrong.”
His gaze sweeps slowly across the classroom.
“By the time they realized the creatures were extinguishing the lights intentionally, more than half had already slipped into the city.”
Nobody moves, a horrible weight settling over the classroom.
Professor Halden lets it linger for several long seconds, no longer focused only on me.
The image changes again.
A massive eyeless beast covered in armored plates appears across the panel.
“A Burrow Tyrant...”
Then another.
And another.
Each stranger than the last.
Each paired with casualties.
Each followed by brief, clinical explanations of what went wrong.
Misidentification.
Poor preparation.
Panic.
Assumptions.
By the time the panel finally darkens again, the earlier amusement in the room has long since vanished.
Professor Halden plants the pointer against the floor once more, the sound of it almost deafening in the oppressive silence.
“Emilia here,” he says, making me wince at the realization that he already knew my name, “is simply today’s example. But this is a lesson for each and every one of you. I saw those of you not paying attention, and I know who you are.”
His eyes flick toward the upper rows instantly.
At least four students visibly flinch.
Then he looks to the side of the classroom, and I hear a panicked gasp.
So he really did notice all of them.
“I do not care how talented you are,” he continues. “I do not care what level, Tier, or Delver rank you achieved before arriving here. If you slack in this class, people may die who otherwise could have been saved.”
The room stays dead quiet as his gaze pans over the countless students.
“Am I understood?”
The response this time is immediate, everyone erupting at once.
“Yes, Professor!”
He nods. “Good. Let’s continue.”
I decide then and there that I will never, ever sleep in Professor Halden’s class again.
Not out of fear, of course.
But because the Professor actually seems to care about the subject in a way that trickles into me. It helps that he actually instilled that care—and the cost of its lack—into us on the first day.
Even if it was at my expense, I find that I’m actually somewhat excited to be a part of that class.
If only it didn’t start at the ass-crack of dawn...
Thankfully, the rest of Monster Identification passes without further incident. When a set of bells ring, signaling the end of class, students begin flooding back out into the hallways.
This time, however, the entire atmosphere from earlier has shifted. The noisy chatter from before is gone, replaced by quieter conversations and thoughtful expressions.
I even feel properly awake now.
Unfortunately.
Thankfully, Bella seemed to have recovered from her earlier gloom at the mention of the driftleeches, her usual collected appearance sliding right back into place without a fuss.
“Next time you decide to nap in class,” Cari says as we merge into the river of students spilling outside, “at least try not to attack the professor.”
I swat her for that, but she just cackles. Bella seems amused as well, though, so I forgive her quickly enough.
Before we split off at one of the collections of transit platforms, Cari speaks up.
“See you two at the dorms after second period,” she says.
Bella nods along, seemingly unsurprised by the sudden plan.
“Huh?” I ask, glancing between the two.
Cari rolls her eyes.
“We planned this on the way here, you were just too dead to the world to listen.”
“Oh,” I mumble.
She chuckles and gives me a quick shoulder bump before splitting off.
“See you then!” she shouts, waving at us.
“Yep, see you,” I reply quickly, Bella and I both waving back.
Bella gives me a small smile as she lets go of my hand and gives me a smaller, somehow more delicate wave.
For some reason, my heart flutters a little as she does.
The Academy feels even larger once we stop moving together.
Students peel away at every stop, disappearing into towers, bridges, floating gardens, underground halls, and buildings that seem dedicated entirely to subjects I can’t even begin to understand.
One particularly nervous boy rushes past me clutching a book labeled ‘Advanced Slime Containment’.
I shake my head and get moving. With only half an hour to get from class to class, I couldn’t afford to waste time.
It still takes a bit longer than I’d hoped to find Advanced Regeneration Studies, but I make it with a few minutes to spare.
The class ends up being... horrifying.
Not because of the professor.
Professor Thessia is lovely. A total sweetheart, even.
Hawkin ScholarLevel 81
I’d never actually seen a hawkin before. Birdkin weren’t exactly uncommon, but most of the ones I’d met so far had been owlkin, ravenkin, or smaller avian flocks.
The woman at the front of the classroom looks distinctly different.
Her features are narrower and more refined than the softer-faced owlkin I’m used to seeing, with sleek bronze feathers woven through dark hair and amber eyes that seem almost predatory at first glance.
Then she opens her mouth and politely asks if anyone would mind helping pass out the lesson packets.
The illusion of intimidation dies instantly.
She speaks softly enough that the entire room quiets itself just to hear her properly, and every sentence somehow sounds patient, warm, and gently encouraging.
No, she’s definitely not the issue.
It’s the diagrams.
The diagrams are very much not lovely. Or sweet.
Apparently there are at least seventeen ways for the body to regrow something incorrectly after magical interference, and six of which are fatal if left untreated.
One particularly vivid illustration of a lionkin man regrowing fangs in his lungs nearly kills me on the spot.
Thankfully, lunch arrives before I lose my appetite permanently.
By the time I drag myself back toward the dorms, Cari is already there, sprawled dramatically across one of the couches like she’s been mortally wounded.
“Please tell me your classes were less traumatic than mine,” she groans.
“That depends,” I say cautiously. “Did yours involve teeth where teeth shouldn’t be?”
“...I don’t even want to know.”
Bella arrives a few minutes later, followed by an Academy Maid carrying enough food for all three of us, which instantly improves the mood of the room.
The break itself passes quickly.
Too quickly, if you ask me—but Cari wouldn’t hear it, and Bella just seemed amused by my complaints.
Soon enough, we’re moving again, schedules in hand as we split off toward our next classes.
‘Anatomy of Magical Species (Practical)’ turns out to be exactly as the title implies.
Lizardkin ScholarLevel 97
The professor—a terrifyingly enthusiastic lizardkin woman named Professor Seski—begins class by slamming an entire severed arm onto the demonstration table hard enough to make several students yelp.
“WHAT IS DIS?” she all but roars.
Unfortunately for me and my poor ears, she remains that loud for the entire class, as if she never learned how to have an inside voice.
The class itself is less focused on monsters and more focused on people—or at least the ways different races and magical lineages alter anatomy.
Beastkin muscle density.
Elven mana pathways.
Dwarven bone structure.
Orcish organ redundancy.
Apparently they have secondary organs specifically designed to survive catastrophic injuries—which was surprisingly intriguing.
But it’s all just the barest brush strokes of what the class will cover over the next six months.
By the time the class finally ends, my notes are a disaster, my ears hurt, and Professor Seski has somehow found it reasonable to assign us reading material thick enough to qualify as a blunt weapon.
Still...
As exhausted as I am, a little flicker of excitement curls in my chest as I glance back down at my schedule while stepping onto my next transit platform.
Applied Healing (Practical).
After my experiences in Bephis with healing the people hurt in the square explosions, I’ve been kind of... itching, I guess, to heal more people. Or anything other than myself, really.
I knew then, as I know now, that I’ll never be a dedicated healer.
But it doesn’t mean I can’t heal people.
It has a kind of satisfying feeling to it. Like I’m doing something important.
Now I actually have a way to involve myself in that field somewhat.
Authors Note:Classes! Fun teachers!
Hehe :3 I may have a couple (or few?) chapters like this where she experiences 'her first week' of school, then focus down on the classes where most of the character interactions, lore building, and fun things happen.
Gotta keep the flow! haha
I'm excited :D :D
Also, I would like you all to know that I resisted the urge to make Professor Seski into Professor Seksi.
Because I’m not a child.
Usually.
This was a heroic act of self-control and I would very much like your validation.