Aston peeled his eyes away from the Spire of Dawn and scanned the crowd of students trickling through the massive gates. Faces blurred past in groups—some in awe, others already deep in conversation or debate—but one familiar figure stood out in the sea of strangers.

"Yosef," Aston called.

The boy turned, shaggy hair tousled and a grin tugging at his lips. "I was wondering when you'd find me."

"You look like you've already walked the whole city."

"I got distracted by an alchemical store on the way. I might have sprinted the last ten minutes." Yosef said, panting slightly. "Didn't wanna miss the roll call or get assigned to the wrong campus.

Before they could say more, the instructors to the front, each bearing a different insignia over their robes accented with bronze. There were seven of them, with the lady earlier wearing the purple robes, an instructor from the Enchanted Arts Division, raised her hand.

"Students of Dawn Crest Academy, please gather according to your assigned divisions. I am Instructor Johanna from the Enchantment Arts Division. Gather here if you're from Enchantment Arts."

A brief murmur passed through the group as students glanced overhead. Some students approached Instructor Johanna.

A man in crimson robes stepped forward after the last of students from the Enchantment Arts Division trickled from the crowd. "All assigned to the Spirit Combat Division, to me."

A chunk of the students in the crowd stepped forward.

Then a young man in his late teens stepped forward, donning light green robes. "Alright alchemy students, please approach me."

Yosef said to Aston, "This is me. See you when I see you."

Aston nodded and Yosef approached the young instructor.

After a while, a man with a lean build and sharp eyes called out. "Scouting, this way."

Aston joined the group that formed around the instructor. About a dozen students clustered, some glancing around nervously while others clearly sizing up their peers.

Aston looked around those that gathered and found two students quite familiar. He jogged his memory and remembered that they were from the same room as him during the written exams. One had a shell on his shoulder, while the other hugged what seemed to be a mole.

After a while, when everybody was segregated by their corresponding divisions, each group walked toward the center of an open field. The field was plainly decorated—-grasses populated the field. Paths to the different campuses spread out like webs across the field, with a monument at the center.

Upon reaching the center, the lead instructor, the woman in purple robes, announced, "Fellow instructors, please lead your students to their corresponding campuses. Remember to discuss the ins and outs with them."

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The instructors nodded and, one by one, the groups followed different paths. Aston's group took the eastern path.

The scouting instructor took the lead, his gait purposeful but not rushed, allowing the students to follow him.

"My name is Oscar Valen, and I am one of the instructors of the Scouting Arts Division," said Instructor Oscar to everyone.

"The Scouting Arts Division is not about brute strength. I have already read some of your profiles, and have found that there are those who had red potential. To me, that is alright. What matters to me, and probably the rest of the faculty in our campus, is your awareness, adaptability, and initiative. If you're looking to throw fireballs and demolish buildings, transfer to Spirit Combat. If you're where to uncover, survive, and report with precision—welcome home."

Their walk took them along a wide bridge that curved out along the cliffside, affording a dramatic view of the basin below Rope bridges crisscrossed canyons, and distant observation towers peeked from camouflaged foliage. It felt more like a hidden base than a campus.

"The campus has multiple zones," Instructor Oscar explained, pointing. "Training fields, open glades for beast integration, stealth challenge circuits, and long-range surveillance towers. You'll get a full breakdown starting next week."

As they walked, the sun dipped lower, casting golden hues across the terraced academy.

"Now, listen carefully," Instructor Oscar said, pausing at a junction. "The academy operates differently than your average school. There are no tuition fees. You are not here because of what you paid. You are here because of what you can become. Everything inside these walls runs on Academy Points, or AP for short."

A few heads turned. Aston perked up.

"You gain AP by completing missions, submitting discoveries, crafting tools or potions, assisting professors, placing in tournaments, trading, and more. It's your currency. Use it for meals, materials, spirit gear, and sometimes even access to restricted libraries or private instructors.

"So, we basically earn our education?" someone asked from the back.

Instructor Oscar nodded. "Exactly. You want to coast, you'll starve. You want to thrive, you'll fight for every point."

He resumed walking as the group absorbed the revelation.

By the time the sun was brushing the edge of the cliffs, Instructor Oscar led them to a set of buildings woven into the rocky slope. Moss-covered walls and arched doorways made them look deceptively humble.

"Dormitories," he said. "Separated by gender and tier. For now, everyone is in Basic Tier housing until you have earned enough points for an upgrade."

Mirage fluttered beside Aston's shoulder, while Gray peeked out from the hood of his robe.

"Lights out at 10 PM. School will start a week from now in order to accommodate those from far-flung areas."

He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and swiped something. With various rings, chimes, and pings, the students' devices rang simultaneously.

While Aston and the rest picked up their devices to check, Instructor Oscar said, "I have updated your student portals. I have sent a file there regarding your room assignments, the school rules, and other details regarding AP. Since school has not yet officially started, food and accommodation are free until you earn your first AP, which will be during the opening ceremony."

Instructor Oscar didn't give a formal goodbye. He simply nodded once and disappeared into the evening mist as lanterns lit the paths.

Finally checking his phone for his room assignment, Aston stepped through the stone archway of the dormitory. A thick scent of wood polish and faint incense welcomed him. He went to his room, the inside was simple but well-kept—two beds, two desks, and a shared spirit energy conduit glowing faintly in the corner.

He tossed his bag onto the bed and let out a low breath. Moving day—complete.

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