Chapter 10: First Night

  Meliodas nearly collapsed in relief when the professors finally broke the news. The tension that had been clawing at his chest since the trial loosened all at once.

  “I told you, brother,” Tyka said with a grin, putting an arm over his shoulder. “You worry too much.”

  “Congratulations to both of you. Becoming official academy students is no small achievement,” Professor Adelion said.

  “Congratulations,” Bernard added as he extended his hands. Resting in his palms were two circular tokens, crafted from pale metal. Each bore a pyramid engraved at its center, and at the pyramid’s peak rested a single star.

  “The stars represent the year you are currently enrolled in,” Bernard explained.

  Meliodas took the tokens, excitement surging through him as he examined it closely. The craftsmanship was beautiful, but something felt… off.

  “Professor,” Meliodas asked hesitantly, looking up, “isn’t there supposed to be a number on the token? One that represents our rank? Or am I mistaken?”

  “You are correct, Student Meliodas,” Adelion replied.

  He paused.

  “The problem is… well—”

  “The problem,” Bernard interrupted calmly, “is that you two arrived later than most of the new students, and your evaluation was rather… special, compared to the standard entrance tests.”

  Adelion nodded.

  “Because of that, we cannot assign you a rank yet.”

  Bernard went on, “Your performance must be discussed with the other professors and the headmaster before a final decision is made. Additionally, since most students have already been ranked, assigning you now could result in demotions for other students.”

  He sighed lightly. “That aftermath must be handled carefully as well.”

  “Rank?” Tyka asked.

  “The rank is a number that reflects your performance as a student within the academy,” Adelion explained. “The lower the number, the higher your standing, and the more privileges you are granted.”

  “So basically,” Tyka said confidently, “it’s who’s the strongest in our year?”

  “Not entirely,” Bernard corrected calmly. “Combat strength is only one factor. Your grades, training progress, discipline, growth rate, every action you take within the academy is taken into account.”

  He continued, “The ranking exists primarily to encourage competition, to push students to improve. Don’t take it too seriously though. Frankly speaking, anyone who manages to graduate from this academy is already considered a prodigy. Outside these walls, very few people care about exact ranks.”

  Tyka blinked. “That’s… a lot to take in. Why wouldn’t we graduate?” he asked.

  Bernard smiled faintly. “Because potential alone is not enough, student Tyka. Many enter these halls with talent. Far fewer leave them with success"

  “Some fail academically,” Adelion added. “Others fail physically, and some…” he paused, glancing briefly at Meliodas, “…fail because they push themselves beyond what they can endure.”

  Bernard nodded. “The academy does not exist to create heroes. It exists to refine potential. Those unwilling or unable to adapt are filtered out.”

  Tyka swallowed. “So it’s not just about strength.”

  “No,” Bernard said simply. “It never is.”

  Meliodas looked at the two professors. The news didn’t affect him much, he had suspected from the start that getting in was only the beginning.

  “Well,” Adelion said after a moment, straightening his robes, “I believe you can handle things from here, Professor Bernard. If you’ll excuse me, students, I must take my leave. I’ve already wasted enough precious time.”

  He shook Bernard’s hand firmly and turned away, departing without another word.

  Bernard watched him go, then turned back to the boys with a small sigh.

  “Well then,” he said, adjusting his coat, “if you two will follow me, I’ll show you to your dorms.”

  The two of them nodded and started walking.

  As they moved along the quiet path, Meliodas couldn’t help but notice the absence of other students. The sun was already beginning to set, its light fading.

  “Professor,” Meliodas said at last, “I can’t help but notice… where is everyone?”

  “Good observation, Student Meliodas,” Bernard replied. “Most students are either training or already settling into their dorms. Some may be at dinner as well, it should be getting served about now.”

  “I could go for some food,” Tyka said, his stomach growling loudly.

  “Me too,” Meliodas added.

  Bernard gave a small shake of his head. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. However, I’ll make an exception. I’ll speak with the cooks and see if they can send you something to your room.”

  He glanced at Meliodas more closely.

  “You may feel better, but your body hasn’t properly recovered yet. Rest is important. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

  Both of them nodded, falling silent as they followed the professor deeper into the academy.

  The path led them away from the lake and into what now felt like a proper island landscape. Meliodas glanced back and noticed the faint membrane curving inward, retreating as the wild zone disappeared behind them. Palm trees lined the path, their silhouettes swaying gently as night finally settled in.

  The light faded quickly.

  Meliodas could barely see now. Instinctively, he tried to draw on his Straum to illuminate the path, the moment he did, a sharp pain shot through his body. He winced.

  Before he could try again, he felt it. Professor Bernard’s aura brushed against his own, heavy and unmistakable. Not hostile, but definitely a warning.

  Meliodas froze, then stopped trying

  Damn… I can’t see anything, he thought.

  A second later, he collided with something solid and stumbled, dropping to the ground with a muted grunt.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  A large hand emerged from the darkness.

  “You good, bro?” Tyka said. “I can’t see much either. Best we stick close.”

  Before Meliodas could reply, Bernard spoke calmly, almost apologetically.

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  “My apologies, students. I forget how new you still are to proper Straum control. We can wait here for a moment, they should come out any second now.”

  “What will?” Meliodas asked, curiosity edging past his fatigue.

  Without any warning, a tiny light burst into existence in front of Meliodas. Then another, and another.

  “What’s happening?” Tyka asked, his voice tense in the darkness.

  “Don’t worry,” Bernard said reassuringly.

  Meliodas looked around and froze. All around them, lights began to ignite one by one. Dozens. Then hundreds. In moments, the forest and the path ahead were bathed in a soft, shimmering glow.

  “Lumenwings,” Meliodas murmured, watching the tiny lights drift through the air.

  “Correct,” Bernard replied.

  “I thought these only existed in specific regions of the world,” Meliodas added. “Not on island complexes. Especially not this far from the mainland.”

  “Another passive function of the dome,” Bernard said simply. “Come. We’re nearly there.”

  Tyka stared in open awe, his earlier tension gone, transformed into childlike amazement as the tiny insects drifted through the air. He reached out, trying to follow their light.

  The sight made Meliodas smile.

  Now able to see, Meliodas spotted a clearing in the vegetation ahead. Soft light spilled through the trees, outlining stone paths and structures beyond.

  They walked toward it.

  As they reached the clearing, the dorms finally came into view. Three buildings stood side by side, arranged in a broad U-shape that enclosed a shared courtyard. Winding stone paths cut through carefully tended gardens, crossing and looping naturally, as if the space had grown rather than been designed.

  At the center stood a fountain.

  Water flowed gently around a bronze statue of a robed figure holding a staff. Meliodas assumed it depicted a mage, perhaps a former master or founder of the academy. The metal had darkened with age, yet the craftsmanship remained unmistakable, the expression calm and resolute, as if watching over those who lived here.

  The dorm buildings themselves were made of simple stone. No grand carvings. Just solid walls, wide windows, and sloped roofs built for durability rather than beauty.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Professor Bernard said, breaking the silence.

  “It’s big,” Tyka replied, eyes wide. “I’ve never seen anything on this scale.”

  Meliodas didn’t speak. He was lost in thought. He found the grounds beautiful as well, especially the way the soft glow of the Lumenwings drifted through the space, their natural light contrasting perfectly with the stone and greenery.

  They continued walking.

  As they moved deeper into the courtyard, Meliodas noticed other students scattered around the area. Some gathered near the gardens, others sat along the stone paths or closer to the surrounding buildings. None of them paid the newcomers much attention.

  As they passed a small group of first-years, he assumed, he caught fragments of their conversation.

  “Did you see him?” one girl whispered.

  “I did. He’s beautiful,” another replied. “Those eyes… I could lose myself in them forever.”

  “Who would’ve thought we’d be in the same year as one of the heroes?” a third voice added. “And such a handsome one, too.”

  “Did you hear his name?” someone asked.

  “I think it’s Lucien von Lichtheim,” a boy answered quietly.

  A hero… Meliodas thought. The word felt heavy. Distracting.

  Before he could follow the thought any further, he walked straight into Tyka’s back, having failed to notice that they had stopped.

  “Oof, sorry,” Meliodas muttered, steadying himself.

  “You okay, bro?” Tyka grinned. “What, you see some pretty girls? Don’t keep all the fun to yourself.”

  “Nothing like that,” Meliodas replied quickly. “Sorry for bumping into you.”

  “No worries,” Tyka said. “But if you do see any, let me know.”

  “Ahem.”

  Professor Bernard cleared his throat, drawing their attention.

  “This is the boys’ dormitory for first-year students,” he said, gesturing toward the building. “The reception is just there.” He pointed through the glass doors to a small, well-lit desk area inside.

  He turned slightly, indicating the surrounding structures. “Directly across from this building is the girls’ dormitory. The structure to our left is where you’ll take your meals and attend your classes, for now, at least.”

  “For now?” Tyka asked, eyebrows lifting.

  “Don’t concern yourself with that, student Tyka,” Bernard replied calmly. “Now, please head to the reception and proceed to your assigned rooms. No detours.”

  He paused, then added, “I’ll take care of the food situation for you.”

  “Thank you, Professor,” Meliodas said sincerely as the dwarf turned and walked away.

  Meliodas turned and walked into the building, heading toward the reception.

  As he reached the desk, he rang the tiny bell resting on its surface.

  A squeaky voice answered from behind the reception door.

  “Coming—!”

  “We’re here for our rooms,” Meliodas called out.

  “More new students, damn it…”

  The door swung open and a tiny man appeared. Meliodas blinked in surprise. The man was even smaller than Professor Bernard, only by a little, but still noticeably so.

  The man hopped onto his chair and peered over the desk at them.

  Tyka stared, eyes wide.

  “What?” the man said sharply. “Never seen a gnome before?” His gaze shifted to Tyka, lingering. “And what in the world are you? Did your mother hump a giant or something?”

  “No, no,” Tyka replied, laughing. “My dad did.”

  For a moment, all three of them burst out laughing.

  The gnome wiped a tear from his eye. “Good one.”

  He straightened. “Name’s Hernest the Second. Just call me Hernest. Can you show me your badges, please.”

  “The second?” Tyka asked, still grinning.

  “Second of four,” Hernest replied dryly. “My father thought it’d be funny to name us all the same. Didn’t you meet my older brother? He runs the docks.”

  “No,” Meliodas said. “We came through the wild zone.”

  Hernest froze.

  “…Don’t be stupid,” he said slowly. “Nobody comes in from the wild zone.”

  He snatched the two tokens from Meliodas’ hand and leaned in close, squinting at them. A faint glow spread as he poured a trace of Straum into the metal.

  “Authentic,” Hernest muttered. “Thought they might be fakes. Bit late in the day, after all.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Meliodas asked.

  “Yes,” Hernest replied flatly. “Doesn’t happen often, but some brats who fail their tests try to sneak in anyway. Can’t accept reality.” He shrugged. “Happens.”

  A brief silence followed as he rummaged beneath the desk.

  “Well then.” He slid two keys across the counter. “Normally, first-years share a dorm with two others. But since-” his eyes flicked to Tyka, lingering “-well, you two will be sharing a room.”

  “That’s perfect!” Tyka said loudly.

  A few nearby students turned at the sound.

  As they realized what they were staring at, a shirtless half-giant towering in the middle of the dorm lobby, more heads began to turn. Whispers spread as eyes lingered.

  Tyka, grinned.

  Meliodas quietly faded into the background, wishing he could do the same with his embarrassment.

  “Well then, sho, sho. I have things to do,” the gnome said, waving a hand dismissively at them.

  Tyka and Meliodas started on their way to their dorm.

  The building had four floors. Their room was on the second floor. They first attempted to use one of the floating platforms meant to carry students upward, but as Meliodas had suspected, Tyka didn’t quite fit. After a brief, awkward pause, they took the stairs instead, Tyka’s head bumping lightly against the ceiling with every step.

  By the time they reached their floor, attention followed them. Fellow students glanced openly at Tyka; some even disappeared into their rooms, only to return moments later with their roommates.

  As they reached their room, they stopped in front of their door.

  Meliodas took the key from his pocket and slid it into the lock. The door opened with a soft creak. He hesitated, lingering at the threshold, he took a deep breath.

  “Well,” he said quietly, “this is it.”

  “What are you waiting for, bro?” Tyka’s voice came from behind him.

  “Oh, nothing-” Meliodas began.

  Before he could finish the sentence, Tyka shoved him forward and into the room.

  Meliodas stumbled inside. He instantly noticed that the room was lit by candles.

  Weird, he thought as most of the academy used Lumenwings for light.

  He took in his surroundings. The room was simple but spacious. A large desk stood against one wall with two chairs pushed beneath it. Where Meliodas had expected three beds, there were only two, one noticeably larger than the other, clearly reinforced for Tyka’s size.

  There was a separate space near the back of the room where the bathing area was located. Meliodas frowned slightly as the doorway lacked an actual door. He stepped closer, curiosity getting the better of him.

  A heavy thump echoed behind him.

  Meliodas turned just in time to see Tyka throw himself onto the larger bed, the frame groaning in protest as the half-giant let out a satisfied sigh.

  Meliodas gave him a confused look.

  “What?” Tyka said, glancing back.

  Meliodas ignored him and turned toward the doorless bathing area. That’s when he noticed a small note nailed to the doorframe.

  Due to your roommate’s size, the bathing area has been modified.

  The interior door has been removed, the main entrance widened, and the bath enlarged accordingly.

  Meliodas blinked, then looked inside.

  A massive wooden tub dominated the space far larger than anything he had expected.

  “Well… that makes sense,” he muttered.

  He glanced back toward the entrance of the room, realization settling in.

  Doesn’t really matter, Meliodas thought. Not like Tyka would bother closing the door anyway.

  He shifted, walking toward the smaller bed, exhaustion finally catching up to him.

  Then came a knock.

  Now what? Meliodas frowned.

  He looked over at Tyka.

  “Don’t look at me,” Tyka said lazily. “You’re already standing.”

  Meliodas sighed, turned, and opened the door.

  Two large plates sat outside, piled high with food.

  His stomach growled loudly as he took them, the smell hitting him all at once. Only then did he realize just how hungry he was.

  “Well,” he muttered, lips curling into a tired smile, “Might as well eat, I'm starving.”

  Meliodas laid back on his bed, stomach full after the feast, though most of the food had ended up in Tyka’s belly. The half-giant was already asleep, his heavy snoring filling the room.

  Meliodas stared at the ceiling, one hand resting loosely in the air above him.

  I made it, sis, he thought. I hope I get to see you soon.

  His thoughts drifted next to his parents. I hope Dad and Mom are alright.

  Then his thoughts reached his brother.

  His body stiffened. Meliodas exhaled slowly as he relaxed his muscles.

  His hand fell back to the bed, and sleep followed.