Beyond the second western wall of the imperial capital rose a cluster of lavish buildings—more like a count’s castle than a school. Ivy crawled over weathered stone walls, their bricks slightly chipped with age. Though spacious enough for hundreds, the castle felt oddly cramped for an academy.
I’d visited Imperial Kingdom Academy once as a child, passing its gates with no real impression beyond a vague “Wow, so huge and impressive.” Only later did I grasp how fiercely difficult admission truly was.
Though apparently not that difficult. I’d waltzed right in. In a world where even “talent” could be altered after birth, the term itself felt meaningless.
Now, Mistflower and I stepped through the academy gates into a sea of students from across the globe. Among them mingled many non-humans—Imperial Kingdom Academy accepted anyone with sufficient talent, regardless of origin or race.
“Don’t be nervous. I’ve already asked Featherwing—the enrollment process is simple. We just need to find the Divine Arts Department afterward.” Bishop Corlmo had entrusted me with guiding Mistflower. Without me, her flustered state might’ve derailed the entire registration.
“Hey there, lovely angel freshmen! New students? Need help?” A boy approached, volunteer badge pinned to his chest, but his leer reeked of ill intent.
Mistflower shrank behind me. *Seriously?* I’d teased her before about calling herself a man. Had she grown even softer in just days? Yet her timid expression was undeniably cute—the boy couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Could we have a campus map and directions to the tuition office? No need to escort us. My friend and I prefer exploring alone. Thank you.” Polite but cool. A flawless blend of courtesy and dismissal. I’d mastered this tone long ago.
Predictably, the starstruck boy handed over the map, jabbing a finger at the correct path without even asking my name. His chances of snagging a freshman this year looked bleak.
Imperial Kingdom Academy’s interior expanded through spatial magic. What seemed a noble’s castle outside opened into a colossal space. The unassuming “Registration” door led to a golden hall vast enough for thousands—likely used for grand assemblies. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead; crimson carpet muffled footsteps. At the far end stood three counters where students scribbled furiously, then dropped completed forms into mailbox-like slots.
The three stations—document verification, payment, and supply distribution—took over an hour. Mistflower struggled with interactions; I filled her forms too.
Our supplies included dorm keys for the Divine Arts Department. Map in hand, I strolled while admiring the scenery. The castle’s exterior courtyard served as the academy’s public face: marble statues, manicured gardens, ponds, and rockeries sprawled wider than the castle itself. *Prime spot for evening rendezvous*, I mused.
“Mistflower, see that building? The Hydrology Department. They’ve got an artificial ocean inside—even open it for swimming sometimes. Do you like swimming?”
“Uh… I used to catch fish back in my village.”
“Perfect. We’ll go together next time. Oh! That archway? The Necromancy Department’s Gate to the Netherworld. They summon elite undead from a pocket dimension. I can’t summon undead myself, but I’d love a summoner class someday.”
“I-I’m actually scared of ghosts.” *An angel afraid of ghosts? You’re making our whole race look bad.*
Popular departments lined the castle’s ground-floor walls, each entrance spaced like ordinary rooms. Yet the handbook promised each held unique, expansive realms within.
Chatting idly, we soon reached the Divine Arts Department. The journey had been eye-opening—I’d thought myself well-traveled, but most wonders had been mere rumors until now.
Another modest doorway greeted us, flanked by senior students in cleric robes welcoming newcomers. Inside lay a cathedral-like hall bathed in light from an open skylight—impossible in the castle’s exterior design.
New students crowded the inquiry desks. Among the instructors sat Bishop Farina—the least “teacher-like” of them, currently answering questions. Nearby, Anan directed a group of awestruck juniors handling luggage.
Spotting us, Bishop Farina abandoned her queue and strode over.
“Lerfu, Mistflower! Finally. I’ve been waiting ages.”
“This is just registration, Bishop Farina. We could’ve managed alone.” I bowed slightly.
“Pfft. I left your paperwork to the juniors. I’ve something important to teach you both before classes start.” She beckoned Anan over. “Anan will assist. Though she’s still a rookie.”
“I’m not a rookie! I’m very capable!” Anan protested. Bishop Farina led us through a side door into a deserted open-air plaza. *How many pocket dimensions does this place have?*
“What exactly will you teach us, Bishop?” I asked.
“Call me Professor Farina now. Before formal lessons begin, I’ll train you and Mistflower in your angelic racial talents.”
