Coleman Academy, a titan among institutions, boasted abundant educational resources. Coleman City—neutral territory bordering the Elven Forest—ensured a war-free learning environment. With its stellar reputation, faculty and resources were never a concern.

By all rights, a student like Dilin shouldn’t have gained entry. Yet his uniquely anomalous soul earned him an exception—whether by luck or misfortune remained unclear.

From academic policies to campus grounds, from daily lessons and training to leisure activities, no detail was overlooked. Every facet was meticulously refined to deliver a premium educational experience.

Naturally, this included student meals. At Coleman Academy, "cafeteria" meant something entirely different from the mass-produced slop, questionable hygiene, and deafening chaos of Dilin’s previous school.

Here, dining halls rivaled lecture halls in craftsmanship. Vaulted ceilings and marble pillars evoked palaces. Upon entering, even the loudest chatterboxes instinctively fell silent. Only the clink of cutlery and soft footsteps broke the hush—like a library’s sacred quiet. Speaking above a whisper felt shameful under such watchful stillness.

With such an atmosphere, the food itself was naturally fit for nobility.

The administration accounted for everything—even differing racial palates. Separate dining halls catered to humans, Elves, Dwarves, and beastkin. Prices ranged from modest to extravagant, accommodating every student’s means.

Typically, students dined within their own racial sections. Only outliers craved alien flavors.

Dilin transcended such divisions.

That morning, he bypassed the human hall, the Elven hall, the beastkin hall—then slipped out the cafeteria’s back entrance. At a tiny stall, he grabbed two slices of dry bread and left.

His breakfast.

Free. Frugal.

He wasn’t alone. Divine Children awakened randomly: some born to nobility, others to poverty, a few orphaned and rootless. Coleman Academy prized talent—but tuition fees didn’t vanish on the wind. Until their talents bore fruit, underprivileged Divine Children scrimped and saved, skipping meals to survive.

Academics were light for newcomers—simple, digestible lessons. Dilin barely needed to listen. His talent was so lacking he couldn’t even master Divine Analysis; aiming higher seemed laughably naive.

His dorm was temporary. Technically, he wasn’t yet a full student—only a provisional one. True status would be decided in one month, at the Freshman Crown Cup.

Coleman Academy poured resources into excellence. Top performers earned elite classes and premium instruction. Average students formed the majority. The lowest tier received modest resources—still superior to other academies—but could climb to Class A by proving their worth later.

Permanent dorm assignments also came after one month, allocated by team.

This explained why so many panicked when Astrid joined Dilin’s squad. Dorms weren’t gender-segregated: one house, private rooms. Sharing a roof with someone who’d saved your life—and of the opposite sex? Who knew where that might lead?

In a sunlit classroom, Dilin listened intently, arms crossed.

Beyond Divine Child specialization courses, classes covered world knowledge: history, culture, customs. Dilin devoured these lessons, genuinely fascinated.

Dismissal time mirrored his past life’s schools. But today, he couldn’t rush to the cafeteria for a quick meal and bed.

Yesterday, while registering Tilisha’s team and enrollment, he’d arranged a 6 p.m. appointment with Miss Blaise: Tilisha’s Divine Maiden initiation test.

Divine Maidens carried divine blood. Before awakening their Divine Right, they existed in an "untransformed" state—possessing only a rudimentary Divine Right domain. Testing them now yielded incomplete data. Besides, a Divine Maiden’s strength defied cold, unchanging metrics. Records mattered less than battle honors gleaming like medals on their files—the truest measure of their worth.

For unawakened Maidens, the Academy assessed their Divine Right domain type to predict future roles and manifestations.

Dilin wondered: what domain would Tilisha manifest? And once transformed, how would she rank among Coleman’s elite Divine Maidens?