The next moment, I woke up.
"Argh... it hurts."
The pain in my head felt unbearable, like I'd been hit by a truck at full speed.
"Ugh!"
A light groan slipped my lips as I opened my eyes. That had to be a dream… no, more like a full-blown nightmare.
As the light entered my eyes, I hoped to find myself in my bed, wrapped in sheets, but... the situation was different.
I was somewhere else, somewhere completely different.
My eyes lingered across the space. My vision was still blurry, hardly giving me any visibility.
But I could hear the chatter of the people. Except for vision, all of my senses seemed to be working completely fine.
"We will finally get our grimoires today. Are you excited?"
"What class do you think I will get?"
"I hope I become a summoner."
Voices buzzed all around me. They all sounded very excited.
Wait. Grimoires? Classes? Summoner?
Was this some kind of role-playing game convention?
No. This was worse.
Did I just get kidnapped by a bunch of anime weebs living out their isekai fantasies?!
After a few minutes, my vision began to clear.
'Finally.'
The blurry outlines sharpened, and I found myself in a vast hall— old, grand, and unmistakably medieval in design. The kind you'd only see in fantasy films or overpriced castles in Europe.
Suspended at the center of the hall was a floating chandelier of crystalline orbs, orbiting each other slowly in the air like miniature moons. Each orb glowed with a different hue— soft blues, golds, and violets— casting a dreamy, multicolored light across the hall.
A single glance at them took my breath away. For a moment, I forgot the pain in my head, the strangeness of waking up here, everything.
Only one word slipped past my lips, barely audible.
"Beautiful..."
Hundreds of benches are spread across the space. Each bench was occupied by boys around the age of seventeen, dressed in robes and uniforms with mystical symbols and family crests on them. Their voices echoed across the space in excitement and nervousness.
Despite the unfamiliarity of it all, a strange feeling crawled under my skin.
'Why does it all feel so familiar?'
Clank—!
"..."
A heavy metallic echo jolted me from my thoughts. The atmosphere shifted instantly.
A man walked in. No, strode in— with the confidence of someone who didn't need to raise his voice to command a kingdom. He was tall and broad-shouldered, draped in a dark military-style cloak, his chest adorned with the insignia of the wolf. His face was scarred, sharp, and cold as iron.
His mere presence drained the room of sound.
Then he spoke— his voice calm, clipped, and chillingly precise.
"Future of the Goldspire Empire. The time has come to awaken your grimoires… and become an Arcane."
'Goldspire? Arcane?'
The words echoed in my head, unfamiliar yet... disturbingly natural.
Thump! Thump!
I didn't want to believe it, but every detail around me was screaming the same thing.
This wasn't a dream.
This was real.
The man's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.
"Form a line. Follow me in an orderly fashion."
The students around me stood up almost in unison, as if they'd been waiting their whole lives for this moment. Maybe they had.
I hesitated.
What now?
What was I supposed to do?
Was I really just going to go along with this? March forward into some magical ceremony I knew nothing about?
And yet… my legs moved.
And with every step I took, one thought repeated over and over in my mind:
'What the hell have I been dragged into?'
The echo of my footsteps rang in my ears as I followed the man from behind.
Still.
Thinking back to my actions, I had purely acted out of instinct.
I knew nothing about the situation. No, not quite... I had an idea. One that I refused to believe.
"Do not give up on your dreams even if your grimoire has a lower number of rings. Aim high regardless."
The man encouraged the crowd as we walked through the corridor.
I, on the other hand, was busy listening to everything like my life depended on it— because honestly, it might.
Grimoires. Rings. Dreams.
Yeah, this was sounding more and more like one of those overpowered magic academy settings. All I needed now was a talking sword and a tragic backstory.
Soon, we stopped.
In front of us stood a door.
Something felt different about this door. I felt drawn towards it, as if it was calling me.
It stood at the end of the corridor like a silent guardian— massive, ancient, and humming faintly with power. Its surface was covered from top to bottom in intricate carvings— symbols I couldn't read, patterns that seemed to shift ever so slightly when I wasn't looking directly at them.
With a little push of the man's hand, the doors creaked open with an echoing groan, and the moment I stepped inside, the air changed.
Thick with magic. Ancient. Alive.
'Wow.'
My jaw widened with shock.
It wasn't just a library. It was a vault of knowledge, a cathedral of arcane legacy.
Towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling— impossibly high, as if the room had no end. They curved in spirals and arcs, forming maze-like paths. The books— no, grimoires— rested within them like sleeping beasts. Some pulsed softly with light, others whispered faintly as if murmuring secrets only the worthy could hear.
Each grimoire had a presence.
Some were bound in dragonhide that shimmered like starlight, others were chained, their covers marked with seals that shifted every few seconds. One of them looked like it was… growling?
A spiral staircase coiled up the center of the room, disappearing into mist-covered floors above.
I took a slow breath.
The grimoires were alive. They were waiting, watching me.
Sizing me up like a slab of meat at a butcher shop.
Judging.
Choosing.
This wasn't just a library.
This was a place where destinies seemed to be decided.
And knowing my luck?
I was probably five minutes away from getting a grimoire that shot glitter and sneezed fireballs.