Day 5 since lectures started, Friday...
Well, Friday is the start of the weekend, and it’s supposed to be like this...
It is Friday... I’ma do what I like... I’ma wear what I like... I’ma party tonight...
Well, reality was far more different on Fridays in Nexus Academy than the comics Kairo read while growing up portrayed it to be.
In reality, Friday was just like any other day of the week, another lecture day.
The lecture hall smelled of parchment and mana ink, its stone walls inscribed with shimmering runes that carried voices clearly across the massive chamber. Dozens of fresher uniforms shuffled into rows, their footsteps echoing as the heavy oak doors sealed shut with a thrum of arcane locks.
Kairo sat near the middle, Mira beside him, both still sore from yesterday’s punishing combat drills. His stomach growled softly, but for once he ignored it, eyes fixed on the tall figure at the front.
The professor, a grizzled man with iron-gray hair braided down his back stood behind a desk carved from blackstone. His robes bore crimson trims, the insignia of a flaming tome etched across his chest.
When he spoke, his voice carried with the weight of centuries.
"Freshers," he began, "welcome to Battlefield History and Demonology".
"This is not a class for idle learning, this is survival carved into words. What you learn here will one day decide if you live or die when the horn of war sounds."
The room stilled.
He raised a hand, conjuring an illusion. A globe of mana shimmered, reshaping itself into Scrontum, the vast planet that was their home. Its three continents floated above his palm: the sprawling Southern lands, the frigid Northern spires, and the emerald Eastern reaches.
"There are five civilizations that rule Scrontum; Humans, Orcs, Elves, Dwarves, and Demons. Today, you will learn their strengths, their weaknesses... and why Humanity stands both cursed and blessed."
"First, the Demons".
He waved a hand and the globe darkened, twisting into the Southern continent. Crimson flames burst outward, forming horned silhouettes with wings and claws.
"The Demons," the professor said, his voice dropping. "Born from the abyss, molded in hatred. They are the most united race, for they have what others do not... a throne".
"The Demon King, an SS-Rank Sovereign who binds all eight Demon Lords beneath him. Together, they form a Council that rules without fracture."
"Their strength lies in their cruelty and order. Every Demon child is raised for war. Their weaknesses? Arrogance... and hunger".
"They consume lands without thought for the aftermath. But do not fool yourselves, to underestimate them is suicide."
Mira frowned, whispering, "Sounds like they’re already stronger than us."
The professor’s eyes flicked toward her. "Correct, Miss Everdrake. Which is why you are here... to close that gap."
He switched to the Orcs.
The globe shifted, painting the Southern continent again, this time with vast plains of bone and blood where massive, tusked figures bellowed as banners clashed.
"The Orcs".
"Brutes, yes, but do not mistake brutality for stupidity. They live for battle, their entire culture is forged around conquest. At their peak, five Supreme Chieftains ruled their clans. Now? Four... and soon three."
Kairo’s fists clenched. He remembered the whispers of the Orc catastrophe after the Demon attack.
"They are fractured," the professor continued. "Without unity, their strength is wasted tearing themselves apart. But on the battlefield? An Orc Warlord can tear through platoons with raw might. Their weakness... is themselves."
The globe spun again, going north into jagged peaks of silver and gold... the Dwarves. Hammers rang as great forges blazed.
"The Dwarves," the professor said with reverence and disdain in equal measure. "Masters of craft. They build the strongest fortresses, forge the deadliest artifacts, and pen the deepest tomes of knowledge. Five centuries ago, their Three Sages walked as S-Ranks. Today? Their true power is unknown."
Illusions of glittering weapons hovered.
"Their strength lies in their craft and their discipline. Their weakness is arrogance; they see the other races as children with toys. If they ever fall, it will be because they underestimated their enemies."
Selene, perched with cool grace a few rows ahead, smirked faintly at that remark, her silver eyes reflecting the illusions.
Then, the Elves.
The globe shifted east as verdant forests unfurled, blossoms glowing with mana. Elegant figures rose from the trees, bows and spells at the ready.
"The Elves. Of all races, they are the closest to the mana streams that birthed this world. The Five Spirits lead them, beings with power that brushes against SS-Rank. They are immortal in arrogance, unmatched in affinity".
"Their forests are alive, their spells inexhaustible."
The professor’s tone sharpened. "But their weakness is isolation".
"They think themselves untouchable, and so they act too late. When the world burns, they believe the flames will never reach their trees."
Kairo narrowed his eyes. ’So every race has cracks... even the ones stronger than us’.
Finally, the globe centered on the southern continent again... Humanity. Cities flickered into view, sprawling, crowded, and filled with light.
"And Humanity," the professor said. His gaze swept the room. "We are the weakest, the youngest. We lack the Demon’s unity, the Orc’s ferocity, the Dwarf’s intellect, the Elf’s affinity, and yet..."
His hand clenched into a fist, and the globe blazed with golden light.
"...yet we endure, we adapt. Where the Orc knows only war, we invent tactics. Where the Elf knows only nature, we bend steel and spell together. Where the Dwarf hides in his forge, we learn from all. And where the Demon craves domination, we resist."
The room pulsed with silence.
"That is why we survive".
"Humanity has no throne, no spirits, no sages, but we have will. We have ambition. And ambition... can rival gods."
Silence reigned as the students let the lecture sink in.
Then the illusion vanished as the professor’s voice lowered.
"Remember this lesson. The battlefield is not a clash of strength alone, it is a clash of weakness exploited".
"Study the other races, learn them, for one day, you will fight them all."
The bell tolled, heavy and sonorous.
Students shuffled out, whispering to one another. Some were dazed, others fired up, others simply afraid.
Kairo walked slower than the rest, Mira at his side. His fists were clenched, nails digging into his palms.
"Weakest, huh?" he muttered. His jaw tightened. "Then I’ll just grow strong enough to make them choke on that word".