Capítulo 4: Chapter 4: Inside the game world [3]
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Name of Cadet: Aren Blackstar
Age: 16
ID: 909768
Written Test Results: C+
Physical Combat Test Results: E (passed)
Magic Combat Test results: D
Cadet rank: 2688/3026
Class: A
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The card revealed a glimpse into my identity within this unfamiliar realm, but it was not the sole revelation contained within the file.
Nestled among its pages lay documentation for the Military Institute of Colnton (M.I.C), detailing fees for dormitory and semesters — all prepaid for the duration of four years.
I furrowed my brow in confusion, my mind whirling with questions. It was glaringly apparent that someone had arranged for these payments in advance, an act that raised suspicions within me.
Why would someone take such preemptive measures? And more importantly, did they possess the foresight to plan for my future in this world?
The implications were unsettling, suggesting a level of manipulation and control that surpassed my understanding.
As I pondered the possibilities, a sense of unease settled over me, overshadowing the fleeting relief of my progress in Glyndor.
Could it be that the previous occupant of this body — or whatever entity that inhabited it — possessed knowledge of events yet to unfold?
'No, I don't think so, that seems way to unrealistic and farfetched. Also than why need me?'
I looked at my card again and furrowed my brows..
I pondered over the contents of the document, my mind grappling with the incongruity of my placement in Class A.
In the Military Institute of Colnton (M.I.C), the classification system was straightforward — your rank was determined by your academic and combat test results.
The top performers were assigned to Class A, where they enjoyed privileges that seemed almost too extravagant for a mere student.
Luxurious dorm rooms, private training facilities, gourmet meals served by maids and butlers — these were just a few of the perks afforded to Class A cadets. It was a world of opulence and exclusivity, a far cry from the meager accommodations and sparse amenities of the lower classes.
So how had I, with my lackluster performance, managed to secure a spot among the elites?
I couldn't help but question the validity of my placement. My test results barely qualified me for even Class D, the lowest tier of the institute.
It seemed inconceivable that I would be able to attend the highest class without some form of manipulation or intervention.
Was it the result of strings being pulled behind the scenes, leveraging influence or the prestige of the Blackstar family name?
It was a possibility that I couldn't dismiss entirely, given the reputation and power associated with my lineage.
'Blackstar family'
Generations ago, the Blackstar family emerged as guardians against the demonic scourge plaguing Clonton. Originating as 'humble mages', they possessed an innate talent for combatting the otherworldly threat.
Over time, their expertise grew, and they became renowned for producing elite warriors skilled in demon-slaying.
Their lineage was marked by a relentless dedication to honing their combat abilities and mastering the mana manipulation necessary for combating demons.
As their reputation spread, so did their influence, eventually earning them a prominent position in Clonton's military hierarchy.
Though traditional titles faded into obscurity, the Blackstars retained their status as esteemed warriors and leaders within the military ranks.
Today, the Blackstar family stands as a symbol of Clonton's resilience against the demonic threat. Their name commands respect and admiration, as they continue to produce the finest mages and fighters in the realm, safeguarding Clonton from the forces of darkness.
'Or something along those lines..'
"Sigh..."
With a heavy heart, I resigned myself to the daunting task of becoming proficient in the Glyndor language. It was my sole means of accessing vital information in this damn game world.
As I settled into bed, drowsiness washed over me. With just nine days until my enrollment at M.I.C, I drifted into a deep slumber.
* * *
Somehow, I managed to get through three days without interacting with anyone other than the maid.
In those three days I diligently practiced Glyndor.
Although still far from holding a conversation with anyone, the amount of time and effort I put in these past three days, I was confident that I could somewhat discern and interpret conversations spoken in Glyndor.
That's not all I did.
I had to come with plans and set them into motion because of...
—Bang!
Before I could finish the door burst open, the hinges were blown off as powerful winds made a mess out of my room.
'It's starting huh.. just as 'he' said it would...' with a bitter sigh, I turned to face my little sister. Unlike in my pervious world where she was 8 years younger than me, here she's only 2 years younger than I was.
My real age was 25 which shows up in the status window, but currently inhabiting this body who's age is only 17..
"▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣!?"
She than glared and eyed me with disgust, behind her was the same maid that bought me food for the past 3 and half days on my stay here in this new reality.
I pieced together what she said in my mind...
'Do you have no shame? Don't you have a fiancée?'
huuu.....
I took in a deep breath, as I was about speak Glyndor for the very first time...
"Ayla? What are you talking about?"
She than looked at me with such hatred, like I was human trash. No, not even a human..
I felt a pang in my chest.
'why is my little sister looking at me like that?' I could help but ask myself.
'Didn't we both get well each other? So why...?'
"Wh▣▣ di▣ yo▣ ▣▣ to her?"
I made out what she said in my mind again.
She than pointed at the maid who was holding back her tears as my little sister exposed some of her skin showing wounds made from whipping.
'Ah, So, that was the whip I saw earlier? But...'
"What does that have to do anything with me?"
I replied in Glyndor, I surprised even myself as I did not intend to speak without understanding the full situation.
Those wounds could be the original Aren's doing but now that I am in his body....
"Hahahaha.." She laughed.
"Ri▣ht of▣ourse."
She than strode towards me.
Black hair
Deep black eyes
Clear and milky skin
Sharp jawline
'Definitely my sister. She even looks like dad...' As I watched her approach me, she than grabbed my wrists and jolted me towards her.
'what? was she always this strong?' I thought to myself, but than she spoke up again...
"If it weren't for me y▣u would've caught multiple r▣▣e charges already by now."
She glared straight at me...
"Not on▣y your fiancée? but even the maids?"
She than smiled sadistically and looked at me, then spoke again...
"That's right, your soul existence is to drag down the Blackstar name through the muds and try to stick your 'thing' into anything remotely curvaceous."
"What are you talking about, Ayla?" I asked, trying to grasp the accusations thrown my way. Confusion gripped me; it wasn't my doing, yet here I stood, accused.
I felt the weight of her words like a physical blow. I wasn't the culprit here, but trapped within this fat ass.
"Come with me, you'll find out," Ayla replied, her tone strangely cheerful, like a child anticipating a spectacle.
She attempted to pull me along, her touch not as gentle as she pretended.
Initially, I resisted, rooted to the spot.
But then she turned to me, a smile that chilled me to the bone plastered across her face.
"If only you trained, my dear brother," she taunted, before yanking me forward with unexpected strength, nearly causing me to stumble.
We traversed the opulent halls of the mansion, passing by silent maids and butlers whose expressions ranged from indifference to amusement.
Their silent judgment was palpable, and it only intensified the throbbing in my head. I clenched my teeth, refusing to succumb to the emotions bubbling within me.
Ayla's pace was slow and deliberate, a deliberate display of my humiliating state.
Every glance exchanged between the servants felt like a dagger to my pride, a silent condemnation of my perceived inadequacy.
Eventually, we arrived at a set of imposing double doors, likely leading to some sort of office.
Before I could comprehend what was happening, Ayla propelled me forward, causing my head to collide with the doors, which swung open to reveal the room beyond.
As I lay sprawled on the cold marble floor, I glared up at my sister, her smile undiminished. And then, as I lifted my gaze, I saw him.
Black hair.
Deep black eyes.
A sharp jawline.
"Dad?"
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