The news of the "Thorne Citadel Cuddle-Hound" spread through the academy's freshman class like wildfire. By the time Kael had been shown to his quarters—a modest but comfortable room in the spire reserved for nobles of minor houses—he was already a figure of myth and ridicule. Some laughed at the absurd name and the public humiliation of the stuffy proctor. Others whispered that something was deeply wrong, that the boy from House Thorne was a charlatan with a strange and unsettling power.
Kael cared for none of it. The whispers were background noise, the data streams of gnats. He was more interested in the academy itself. His code-vision revealed it to be a nexus of incredible magic. The very stones were saturated with enchantments for structural integrity, climate control, and passive mana generation. It was a programmer's paradise, a system of immense complexity and elegance.
The first day of classes began with the Freshman Sorting Ceremony in the Grand Convocation Hall. Unlike the simple Awakening ceremony, this was a measure of both raw power and potential aptitude. Students would place their hand on the Sorting Dias, a powerful arcane artifact that would assess their skills and assign them to one of three specialized tracks:
The Aegis Division: For knights, warriors, and frontline combatants. (Red)
The Arcanum Division: For mages, sorcerers, and elementalists. (Blue)
The Scrivener Division: For healers, enchanters, scholars, and support classes. (Gold)
The hall was buzzing. Zander Blaze, eager to reclaim his pride, was one of the first. He slammed his hand on the dias, which erupted in a brilliant pillar of blue light, signifying a high affinity for the Arcanum Division. He smirked at the applause.
Valerius Thorne followed. He placed his hand down, and a pillar of crimson light shot towards the ceiling, tinged with gold—a primary Aegis classification with a secondary Scrivener aptitude, a rare and powerful combination for a Sword Lord. More applause.
Then came Lyra von Argentis. She approached the dias with her usual icy grace. When she touched its surface, the pillar of blue light that erupted was so pure, so intense, it dwarfed Zander's completely. The air in the hall dropped twenty degrees. It was the mark of a true prodigy, a future Archmage. The hall fell into a reverent silence.
Finally, it was Kael's turn.
"Kael Virein of House Thorne," the Headmaster called out.
A hush fell over the hall. Every eye was on him. The boy with the Cuddle-Hound. The boy Baron Thorne had plucked from obscurity.
Kael walked to the dias and placed his hand on its cool, smooth surface. He was curious to see how the artifact would try to read him. He felt its magic probe him, searching for a Skill, a class, a mana signature it could recognize.
It found nothing.
The Sorting Dias, an artifact that had flawlessly sorted generations of heroes, sputtered. Its light flickered erratically between red, blue, and gold. It was like a machine being fed unreadable data, its internal logic crashing.
After a few agonizing seconds of frantic flickering, the light on the dias died completely.
ARTIFACT STATUS: [Fatal_Error_Unknown_Input] Kael read in his mind. [Rebooting...]
The Headmaster, a venerable old elf, stared in disbelief. "No classification... Unreadable... This is unprecedented."
The hall erupted in whispers. "Skill-less! It's true!" "He really is a fraud!" "How did he even get in?"
Valerius looked as if he'd just won the lottery. This was the ultimate, public proof. Kael was a sham.
The Headmaster, looking flustered, finally made a decision. "Given your... unique situation, and your patronage by House Thorne, you will be placed in the lowest-ranking class of the Scrivener Division, Class 1-F, for miscellaneous studies until your aptitude can be properly determined."
Class 1-F. It was the dumping ground for students with weak, non-combat, or simply strange skills. The class of failures.
Kael simply nodded, unbothered. The label was meaningless. He walked towards the section where the other gold-trimmed students sat, ignoring the snickers and looks of pity.
His first class was [Basic Potion-Making]. The classroom was in a basement, smelled faintly of mildew and rotten herbs, and was filled with the academy's outcasts. The professor was a woman named Elara, a young, bookish instructor with glasses perched on her nose and a perpetually frazzled expression. Her own skill, she explained, was [Item Identification], a useful but non-prestigious F-rank ability.
"Alright, class," she said, her voice nervous. "Today, we'll be attempting a simple Grade-1 Healing Draught. The key is balance. Too much Silverleaf, and it becomes toxic. Too little Blood-bloom, and it won't have any effect. Follow the instructions in your textbooks precisely."
The students began to work, clumsily chopping herbs and mixing liquids in their cauldrons.
Kael looked at the ingredients on his table. He picked up a sprig of Silverleaf.
=== ITEM: Silverleaf Herb ===
GRADE: Common
PROPERTIES: [Analgesic], [Antiseptic], [Minor Toxin]
POTENCY: 3.4 / 10
================================
He then looked at the Blood-bloom.
=== ITEM: Blood-bloom Petal ===
GRADE: Common
PROPERTIES: [Coagulant], [Cellular Regeneration (Minor)]
POTENCY: 4.1 / 10
================================
He didn't need the textbook. He could see the very essence of the ingredients. He understood their chemical and magical interactions on a fundamental level. He tossed them into his cauldron, not measuring, but adding them based on the flow of code he was observing.
While other students' potions were turning murky brown or emitting foul-smelling smoke, Kael's began to glow with a soft, pure white light.
But he didn't stop there. He looked at the bubbling liquid.
=== ITEM: Grade-1 Healing Draught (Brewing) ===
QUALITY: 98% (Masterwork)
EFFECT: Heal 50 HP over 10 seconds.
================================
A Masterwork on his first try. Good, but not perfect. He could do better.
He focused on the potion's code. He saw the [Heal] effect. He could easily ramp up the number, but that was crude. A true programmer optimizes. He saw a flaw, a tiny inefficiency in the way the Blood-bloom's regenerative properties were being bound to the Silverleaf's analgesic agent. A standard brewer could never see it, but to him, it was a misplaced semicolon in a line of code.
He reached out with his will and subtly adjusted the binding matrix. He didn't add anything; he just corrected the flaw. He optimized the code.
The soft white glow in his cauldron intensified, shifting into a brilliant, flawless silver. A fragrant, sweet aroma filled the entire classroom, silencing all other students.
Professor Elara, who had been trying to help a student whose cauldron was now emitting purple sparks, froze. She turned, her eyes widening behind her spectacles as she saw the divine light emanating from Kael's workstation.
She rushed over, her professional curiosity overriding her nervousness. She peered into his cauldron, her [Item Identification] skill activating automatically. The result her skill fed back to her made her gasp, her hand flying to her mouth.
"Th-That's..." she stammered, her voice trembling. "Perfect... It's a 100% purity Healing Draught. A 'Perfect Potion.' That's... that's theoretically impossible! The waste energy, the minute flaws in the ingredients... there should always be some degradation! I've only ever read about this in ancient texts!"
She stared at Kael, her eyes no longer seeing a student, but a miracle. "How did you do it? What technique did you use? What was your measurement ratio?"
Kael looked up from his cauldron, his expression calm. "I just felt it was a little... inefficient. So I fixed it."
The statement was so simple, so profound in its implications, that Elara felt a shiver run down her spine. He spoke of crafting a perfect, legendary potion as if he were tidying up a messy desk.
Before she could ask more, the door to the classroom slammed open. Standing there was Zander Blaze, a smug sneer on his face, flanked by two of his cronies from the Arcanum Division.
"Well, well, if it isn't the failure class," Zander announced loudly, his eyes locking onto Kael. "I heard the great 'Cuddle-Hound' master was sent to the academy's basement. I just had to see it for myself." He swaggered in, his gaze falling on the glowing cauldron. "Ooh, making a little health potion? How cute. Need it for when you inevitably trip over your own feet?"
Kael just looked at him, then at the perfect potion. An idea sparked.
"Actually," Kael said, ladling his flawless, silver liquid into a vial. "I was just thinking it was a bit plain."
He held the vial up. He focused on its code.
=== ITEM: Perfect Healing Draught ===
GRADE: Legendary
EFFECT: Heal 200 HP instantly. Remove all status ailments.
================================
He added a single, new line of code. A simple property.
PROPERTY: [Targeted Laxative (Extreme)]
The potion's silver glow didn't change. Its divine aroma didn't change. Nothing about it seemed different.
He capped the vial and held it out to Zander. "Here," he said, his voice laced with mock generosity. "A gift. For welcoming me to the academy."
Zander's eyes lit up with greed. He could feel the immense, pure power radiating from the vial. A perfect potion! This was a treasure that could sell for tens of thousands of gold! The idiot was just giving it to him!
"Heh. Don't mind if I do," Zander sneered, snatching the vial. "A fitting tribute from a failure to his superior."
He uncapped it and, without a second thought, downed the entire potion in one gulp, wanting to absorb its power immediately. He licked his lips. "Ahhh, the taste of perfection—"
He stopped. His eyes widened. A low, ominous gurgle echoed from deep within him, a sound so loud it silenced the entire room. His face, which had been smug, turned pale. Then green. Then a panicked shade of white.
He clutched his stomach, a look of pure, dawning horror on his face. "Wh-What was in that?!"
Kael smiled, a serene, chilling expression. "Perfection. And a little... personal touch."
Zander let out a strangled cry, turned, and sprinted out of the classroom, his cronies following in a panic. The desperate, explosive sounds that began echoing down the hallway told the rest of the story.
The students of Class 1-F stared, mouths agape. They looked from the empty doorway to Kael, who was calmly cleaning his cauldron. He had just taken down an arrogant B-Rank noble from a prestige division, not with power, but with... weaponized alchemy and humiliation.
Professor Elara stared at Kael, her mind racing. First, a perfect potion that defied the laws of alchemy. Then, he had somehow altered it after its creation without any additional ingredients or incantations.
This wasn't a student. This wasn't a genius. This was something else entirely. She looked at him, and for the first time, felt the same thrilling, terrifying awe that Lyra and the Baron had felt. She had dedicated her life to studying the mysteries of items and artifacts, and the greatest mystery she had ever encountered was now sitting in her classroom.