[Lifespan Remaining: 20 days, 21 hours, 57 minutes.]
Noct found himself in a strange area of the school he’d never been in before, but clearly, both the map and his own intuition told him he was somehow in the right place.
The next class was Applied Combat.
Which, judging by the sound of something crashing against a wall on the other side of the doors, was going to be a lot more entertaining than watching nymphs float around.
Noct wouldn’t describe himself as a battle junkie or anything, but sometimes the urge to see how strong he was compared to his peers emerged from the back of his mind.
As soon as he pushed the door open, a blur whipped toward his face, and Noct only barely ducked in time. He looked back to see what the hell came flying, only to find the jagged section of a partially-destroyed wooden sword sticking out from the nearby wall.
’What the hell was that about?!’
A few moments later, an athletic-looking girl with short brown hair came jogging toward him, her expression quite apologetic.
"I’m so sorry! My practice sword broke during the exchange. Are you hurt?"
Her gaze briefly passed over him, checking for injuries, before settling on the crest of his uniform and the single star above it. "...A freshie? Have you got the wrong class?"
But before Noct could answer, a towering figure approached with a gigantic wooden sword resting on his shoulder with ease. "Mei, you’re too hot-headed. If you keep swinging in the same way, your enemy is going to anticipate it."
"It’s because you didn’t hold back at all!" the upperclassman named Mei complained. "As a teaching assistant, shouldn’t you hold back against your students?!"
Though as soon as the figure stepped a bit closer, they both recognized each other instantly.
"Noct?"
"Ronan?!"
"What are you doing here?" Ronan asked, lowering the wooden sword from his shoulder and resting its tip against the floor.
"I was gonna ask you the same thing."
"I work here."
"Right. I heard."
Noct reached into his subspace and retrieved the schedule, handing it out to Ronan who took it slowly. His eyes moved across it before his brow furrowed.
"Applied Combat..."
"With Instructor Lilah," Noct added. "Unless there’s another one."
Ronan checked the room number, then glanced toward the entrance. "This class isn’t for freshmen. They’re supposed to have it with another professor."
"You’re also technically a freshman..." Noct frowned.
The larger boy ignored that and examined the schedule again, as though a second reading might produce a different answer. "The room’s right. So is the time."
"That’s what I thought."
"Well, it that’s what you’ve been assigned, I suppose this is your class," Ronan shrugged as he handed the paper back to Noct, who promptly shoved it back into his subspace. "I guess feel free to look around before class starts."
Noct did, and now that he wasn’t occupied with dodging stray wooden swords, the word "class" did not do it justice. It was a whole training field, equipped with varied artificial terrain to simulate realistic combat.
Several pairs were practicing further inside. A spear was turned aside with the shaft of another weapon. Nearby, two students exchanged short, but heavy blows against each other in close quarters combat, each strike accompanied by a brief surge of heavy aura.
Noct looked back at Ronan. "I can see why you’re asking."
"Did you request this class?"
"No."
"Then perhaps someone changed your assignment?"
There was one person who came to mind immediately. A certain Headmistress that was way too curious about him for her own good.
"Ronaaaaaan!" Mei had returned from the weapon rack with a replacement sword. "We have to go again! I’ll beat you this time, I swear!"
Ronan lifted his sword from the floor with a small smirk on his face.
"Alright. Alright."
He glanced at Noct. "You can wait by the benches. Instructor Lilah should be here soon. She’ll know how to sort this whole ordeal out."
"Sure."
The two returned to their practice circle, with Mei rolling her shoulders before raising her blade. Ronan stood opposite her, his enormous weapon held with considerably less apparent effort. If he remembered correctly, the Harks were specialized in hand-to-hand combat, so why was Ronan using a sword?
’Maybe it was a handicap?’
Whatever the case may be, Noct made his way to the nearby benches, getting weird looks along the way. A few glanced at the single star on his uniform, but none approached him. But by the time he got there, Noct realized someone was already sitting on the far side of one of the benches, the light pink hair catching his attention first.
’Her again?’
The upperclassman from Summoning sat with her bag beside her and both hands resting in her lap. She kept fidgeting with something in her hand, expression clearly nervous.
Noct headed toward the bench. "Is this seat taken?"
"Oh! No, please." She looked up sharply. But upon realizing who she was talking to, her eyes widened. "Noct...? You’re taking Applied Combat too?"
"Ahh...it’s a long story. But apparently, I am."
After a bit of silence, she turned toward him with an outstretched hand, like she had been psyching herself up to introduce herself to him. "I—I should’ve introduced myself earlier. I—I’m Marina de Eden."
"Nice to meet you, I’m Noct de Arcadia."
"I know!" she smiled softly. "I’ll be in your care!"
Now that she had revealed her name, Noct knew exactly who this was. Many considered both the Rosenthals and Edens to be part of the Great Families. Obviously, the Rosenthals were powerful paladins who were well regarded pretty much everywhere, but their allegiance officially belonged to the Church of Aion so they didn’t count.
The Edens on the other hand...were only known for one thing. The reason that Marina knew about spirits was because her family had a contract with one of the Lord Spirit:
Salamander, the Lord of Fire.
However, the reason why they were never inducted into the Great Families was for one reason, one not too unfamiliar to Noct. As a consequence of hosting such a powerful spirit...
Descendants of House Eden would die before they ever reached thirty years old.