Lorithal Academy was majestic.
Ancient towers laced with ivy and enchanted stone. Floating lanterns drifting lazily through open walkways. Lecture halls shaped like domes. Gardens that whispered if you listened too long.
It looked like a place where destinies were forged, secrets were buried, and the occasional explosion was just part of the curriculum.
But on Day One?
It was just another school.
We got orientation pamphlets. Assigned class schedules. Some poor guy tripped over his cloak and ate pavement in front of the dining hall.
Magical architecture or not, it still smelled like wet grass and cafeteria food.
The illusion cracked early.
---
I sat in the back of the assembly hall as the Headmistress stood on the stage, cheerfully spinning a pointer shaped like a candy cane.
"To all you bright-eyed, sleep-deprived rookies: congratulations! You're officially enrolled. Surviving orientation week earns you your first merit stars. Ten stars earns a class upgrade. Negative five gets you put in remedial."
She paused, eyes twinkling.
"Remedial is held in the Abandoned wing. Don't ask what's in there."
Someone in the front row raised their hand.
She flicked her wand. The kid's lips zipped shut. Literally.
"Anyhoo~! Your weekly schedules include: Core Magic, Weapon Bonding, Survival Theory, and Magical Ethics—if you have any."
She beamed. "Dismissed!"
---
Back in our dorm, I collapsed onto the sofa.
Alex had already claimed the corner seat and was quietly reading a thick manual labeled Combat Law and Magical Discipline: Volume 1.
He didn't speak. I didn't speak.
This was the perfect roommate dynamic.
Until the sword spoke.
"So. When are we getting a body?"
I sighed.
"You're a sword. You have a body."
"No, no. I'm a skill. That's different. You summon me like mana, and right now, I'm running on the magical equivalent of duct tape. I need a physical vessel."
"You want a real sword to inhabit?"
"Yes! Thank you! Finally someone's paying attention."
"Can't I just conjure a mana blade like everyone else?"
"Sure. If you want to pass out after two swings. Your mana pool's laughably small. Like, dangerously 'I might trip and die' small."
"That's harsh."
"That's honesty. Now listen—if I'm going to help you not get turned into cafeteria stew during midterms, we need a proper sword. A real one. Preferably not rusty. Preferably enchanted. You know the one."
I did.
The sword in the garden.
The same one I'd touched before the voice began whispering.
The one I'd been avoiding.
"…Tonight?"
"Tonight."
---
After dinner, I slipped out.
The academy was quieter at night. The lamps floated lower. The wind felt heavier, like the school itself was holding its breath.
I made my way past dorm buildings, lecture halls, enchanted fountains that burped bubbles of starlight. Eventually, I found it:
That forgotten garden. Half-wild. Tucked behind a collapsed wing of the old archives.
And in the center, still stuck in a stone pedestal, was the sword.
It shimmered faintly now. Like it knew I was coming back.
I stepped closer.
"…You sure this is safe?"
"Nope."
I placed my hand on the hilt.
A pulse ran through me—like someone striking a tuning fork inside my ribcage.
[System Notice: Compatible Vessel Detected – Would you like to bind this object to the skill "Unnamed Sword Ego"?]
I hesitated.
"Still no name?"
"You'll name me when I save your life. It'll be poetic."
"…Fine."
Accept.
Light flared.
Wind surged.
The runes along the blade glowed. The sword shuddered—lifted—then melted into light.
And flowed into my hand.
[Vessel successfully bound]
Base form unlocked. Durability scales with Willpower.
Synchronization increased: 6% → 9%
The blade took shape. Slender. Black-metal. Slightly curved. Weightless in my hand.
But I could feel her presence humming through it.
"...Okay," I whispered. "Now we've got something."
"Damn right you do."
Her voice sounded smug. "Let's make this boring little school a little more interesting."