"Man, why do you look like a panda with those dark circles?" Reed teased, laughing as we walked down the hallway to our clubs.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I didn’t get much sleep."
Reed just chuckled and kept going on about some nonsense, but my mind was elsewhere.
Last night was exhausting, trying to piece everything together. The diary and its strange taboo symbol—it was all still so unclear.
Who had it before me? What did it want? Who was I supposed to contact?
And then there was last night’s incident. Someone had been watching me; I was sure of it. Was it connected to the symbols? Were they testing me to see if I’d been possessed?
Reed’s chatter faded into the background as my thoughts spiraled. After some random jokes and his usual annoying antics, I finally split off and made my way to the Mystic Club.
When I entered, the room was already filling up. About fifty students were scattered across the seats. It wasn’t a massive crowd, but the atmosphere still carried a strange weight.
I scanned the room and spotted an empty seat next to a blonde girl with golden hair. She seemed distracted, her gaze wandering aimlessly. Quietly, I made my way over and sat down.
She noticed me immediately. Her head snapped toward me, and her eyes widened in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" she blurted out, her voice high-pitched with shock.
"Pardon?" I replied calmly, raising an eyebrow at her reaction.
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She stared at me, flustered, and then started nervously fidgeting with her fingers. "Uh... I mean... Aren’t you ranked low? Shouldn’t you be focusing on combat classes instead?"
I leaned back in my chair, meeting her gaze evenly. "I should, but I have something to learn here," I said vaguely, watching her squirm under my calm tone.
"Oh... ohhh," she mumbled, looking away quickly.
Her face was red now, and she kept avoiding my eyes. She seemed nervous—guilty, even.
I studied her for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. Her reaction felt odd, too personal for just a random classmate.
Then it clicked.
The message I’d sent to Duchess Emberlight. Could it have reached her already? That might explain the guilt written all over her face.
’But why hasn’t the Duchess responded yet?’ I wondered.
That event would have Selena giving her a trauma that might lead to bigger disaster. As per what butterfly effect it might create, it was yet to be seen.
Whatever the reason, this was a mess I didn’t need. The last thing I wanted was to cause another ripple that might spiral into more trouble.
For now, I decided to let it slide. There was no point in poking the bear until I knew more.
The classroom fell silent as the door creaked open, and a tall, handsome old man entered. His flowing cleric robes swayed with his steady steps, the soft fabric brushing against the floor. His dark, piercing blue eyes seemed to hold the weight of countless years, and his silver hair, neatly tied back, shone faintly in the dim light of the room.
"Good afternoon, students," he greeted, his voice calm yet commanding. A faint smile played on his lips, though his gaze carried a certain gravity that made everyone sit a little straighter.
"Welcome to the class of Mysticism," he began, his eyes sweeping across the room. "Before we dive in, let me ask you a question. Does anyone know how many eras our world has been through?"
The students exchanged nervous glances, hesitant to answer. Finally, a boy near the back raised his hand. "Five, sir," he said cautiously.
The old man nodded, his smile widening slightly. "Correct. There have been five eras so far. And can anyone name them for me?"
Silence fell again. The students fidgeted in their seats, some looking down, others shifting uncomfortably. The old man sighed, his expression softening with understanding.
"No one? Very well," he said, stepping to the front of the room. He placed four thick books on the desk before him, each one worn from years of use.
"These books," he began, gesturing to the stack, "contain the history of our world as it has unfolded across these five eras. Allow me to share them with you."
He picked up the first book and held it up. "The first era: The Era of Creation. It is said that the world began in an endless void, a space of nothingness that stretched on for an unknown period. From this void, a speck of light was born—an existence we now call God. This God, omniscient and omnipresent, found the emptiness unbearable and began to create."
The old man’s eyes gleamed as he continued. "God’s eyes became the sun and moon, His sweat formed the seas, and His body shaped the earth. From His blood, living beings emerged, evolving into the creatures we see today. Was it a myth? A superstition? Perhaps. But the search for truth never ceases."
He set the first book down and picked up the second. "The second era: The Era of Progression. Life was harsh in the beginning, with natural disasters threatening to wipe out existence. To guide and protect the living, Gods and Goddesses materialized, teaching the use of mana and crafting. From this era rose civilizations—the strong and durable Demons, the mana-sensitive Elves, the skilled Dwarves, and the resourceful Humans."
He paused, glancing at the students, some of whom were now leaning forward, intrigued. "But as progress came, so did greed. The third era began—the Era of Conquest."
His voice dropped slightly, carrying a somber tone. "Ambition and arrogance led to wars and massacres. Nations fought for resources, and ultimately, the allied forces of Humans, Elves, and Dwarves clashed with the Demons. The Demon King’s lust for power, said to be aided by an unknown force, pushed the world into chaos but the war was stopped as a new evil originated which is none other than the abyss.."
The students sat spellbound as he reached for the third book. "From this devastation came the fourth era: The Era of Technology. Necessity is the mother of invention, as they say. With no choice but to adapt, people began creating tools and machines—gears, cannons, and even methods of communication like the telegraph. Technology became the shield for those without mana or power, allowing common people a chance to survive."
The old man paused, his expression growing darker. He placed his hand on the final book. "And now, we stand in what should be the Era of Peace."
He turned his sharp gaze toward the students, his voice deepening. "But peace is fragile. Predictions from the Saints suggest that this era will instead be remembered as the Era of Calamity. Signs of this are already upon us—the dungeons, the monsters, the growing unrest in the realms."
The room was heavy with silence. The students exchanged uneasy looks, the weight of his words sinking in.
The old man leaned forward, his eyes locking onto theirs. "This is why you are here—to learn, to understand, and to prepare. The history of the past is not just a story. It is a warning."
He straightened, a faint smile returning to his face. "Now, open your notebooks. We have much to discuss."