I turned back and made my way toward the classroom. More guards were stationed inside the school than usual, likely because of the recent threat to the Queen’s palace. Normally, there’d be just one or two guards patrolling, but now there were at least ten. The students seemed tense, their movements stiff under the watchful eyes of authority figures. Unlike them, I didn’t mind the added security. In fact, I welcomed it—anything to keep Suzan and her deranged maniac mother at bay.


    Walking into the classroom, I took my usual seat—the one closest to the teacher’s desk. The window beside me revealed clear skies, with the rainwater on the city walls slowly drying under the sun’s warmth.


    “Hey,” I said, calling out to a random student who was settling into his chair. “Sorry to bother you, but where do I get my books?”


    “Mr. Poley will probably hand them out today,” he replied.


    “Right. Thanks.”


    With those books, I could finally learn more about this world. Maybe they’d even have information on the translucent quest box that kept popping up. If I could figure out how it worked, perhaps I could level up more efficiently.


    Jane entered the classroom shortly after, walking directly to her seat without sparing me a glance. Perfect. I kept my head tilted down, pretending to be absorbed in the grain of the wooden desk. In reality, I was just ignoring her, hoping she wouldn’t start another unnecessary conversation with me about the tournament.


    “Good morning,” one of her friends greeted her as she sat down. “Did you ask him yet?”


    “Yeah, no. He already has a team,” Jane replied.


    “Well, then we’ll go with that girl from Class C?”


    “Yeah. Let’s do that.”


    It was clear these students were taking the tournament very seriously. Not that I blamed them. With a reward of that much gold, who wouldn’t? If I were a ‘permanent resident’ of this world, I’d probably do the same. But I wasn’t planning on staying here… even though I had no idea how to get back to my world. The last thing I wanted was to be dragged into a war like the Lost 100.


    The thought of me being stuck here, doing odd jobs for survival was… haunting. I just wanted to be in my comfort zone again. Where everything was predictable. Where everything was… well, normal, not batshit crazy.


    “Change is bad,” I muttered under my breath. “Change is bad, Ax.”


    “Okay, class!” Mr. Poley called out as he entered the room. “Settle down, everyone. As you all know, lessons are cut short today, so we’ll start a bit early.”


    “Should I get the rest of the students, sir?” one student asked, raising his hand. “They’re still at the grand tree waiting for class to start.”


    “Yes, please do that.”


    “Sir?” another student asked as the first one left. “Is there any news about the attack?”


    “No attack or move has been made against the Queen,” Mr. Poley said. “It seems to have been a false alarm. But let’s remain vigilant, just in case.”


    “Will the tournament training sessions be canceled again?” a third student inquired.


    “No,” Mr. Poley answered. “Not today. Training will proceed as scheduled, under my supervision.”


    The class collectively exhaled in relief.


    “Yes!”


    “Finally. I was starting to think that the tournament was going to be cancelled!”


    “Phew.”


    “Great.”


    I stayed silent, lost in thought. The more I considered my current situation, the more I realized how unprepared I was for what might come. Suzan, Orlaath, and this tournament… I wasn’t ready for any of it. But I didn’t have a choice. If I wanted to survive, I had to keep moving forward.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Mr. Poley, as if remembering something he shouldn’t have forgotten, looked at me and raised his index finger.


    “I forgot your books in the library, Axel,” he said. “Ms. Miop, can you sit with Mr. Millo again and lend him your book?”


    “Of course, sir,” said the quiet Noxivera girl sitting in the back—the same one who had shared her book with me before.


    I slid over as she came to sit beside me. She opened the book to the first page and leaned back. The day’s lesson appeared to focus on history, covering topics like the Lost 100 and the war where elves aided Nu’tar before betraying them and forcing them into submission. The book had illustrations of the Lost 100, who were students from this very school. I silently hoped I wouldn’t end up as another picture in a history book someday.


    Moments later, the students lingering at the grand tree knocked and entered the classroom. After bowing in apology, they quickly took their seats as Mr. Poley gestured for them to settle down.


    “The war between Bhar, Sultan of Hilzaan, and---” Mr. Poley began, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Who can tell me the name of our king during that era?”


    The teacher scanned the room until his gaze landed on Jane, who had her hand raised. He nodded, and she stood to answer.


    “King Loa,” she said.


    “Correct. The war between Sultan Bhar, and our King Loa will be our topic.” Mr. Poley affirmed. “Now---King Loa was... a peculiar man. He banned the consumption of alcohol and shut down every brothel in Nu’tar. Yet, he was found dead in his bed, surrounded by wine bottles and women.”


    “Was he assassinated?” a student asked.


    “We’ll come back to that later.”


    The students murmured among themselves.


    “His death was after the war with Bhar. Let’s backtrack,” the teacher continued. “Just after King Loa’s father passed away and he ascended to the throne, Sultan Bhar orchestrated an attack on a small village, killing most of its inhabitants within a week. He managed this by bribing guards and district captains to aid him.”


    “Why would he do that?” another student asked.


    “Because Bhar needed supplies. His kingdom was situated in a desert,” Mr. Poley explained. “He proposed trade routes with Nu’tar, the closest city. But Loa refused, claiming it wasn’t profitable. So, he drew blood in response.”


    “Was it profitable?” Miop asked, her voice soft but curious.


    “It wasn’t,” Mr. Poley said. “Bhar offered to pay far less than other nations, like Gatay, for our goods. On top of that, Bhar had a terrible reputation. He was a liar, a wife-beater, and someone who never kept his promises.”


    I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, as Miop flipped through the pages. Mr. Poley continued describing the war, explaining how Nu’tar was outnumbered and on the brink of defeat. He seemed reluctant to continue, as though the next part of the story weighed heavily on him.


    “When defeat seemed imminent,” he finally said, “the elves came.”


    The room fell silent. Every student’s attention was fixed on the teacher. Never in my world had students listened so intently during a history lesson. Then again, our history was far less dramatic than this.


    “The elves came to Kinowa from Muntak. Their King… he was truly a devil on earth,” he explained. “Muntak wasn’t exclusively an elf nation—humans and noxivera lived there as well, along with other races. But their king didn’t see it that way.”


    Mr. Poley paused, taking a deep breath.


    “He imposed harsh taxes on non-elves and introduced brutal punishments. If an elf was caught stealing, they’d serve a day in jail. If a human, dwarf or noxivera… basically any other race committed the same crime, they were beaten to death.”


    “Then what happened?” a student asked, breaking the heavy silence.


    “The elves who disagreed with their king’s cruelty fled to Kinowa. But many were caught and slaughtered for treason. With half their population gone, Muntak entered a period of decline.”


    Mr. Poley began pacing, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. He pointed in my direction. Great.


    “Axel, would you read the paragraph starting with ‘When the King’ on page 44?”


    “Yes, sir.” I leaned forward and read aloud. “When the king slaughtered his people, he was dethroned by his uncle, who was both smarter and more ruthless. Seeing Nu’tar’s struggles against Bhar’s relentless assaults, the elves offered their aid. Their intervention forced Bhar to retreat, returning him to his failing kingdom. But we failed to recognize the true enemy standing right before us.”


    “The elves,” Mr. Poley said. “They inflated our ranks with spies, forced unfavorable trade agreements, and outlawed our gods. Anyone who resisted—man, woman, or child—was tortured and executed. Bhar was a saint next to him.”


    “And then the king was assassinated,” a student added.


    “By his brother,” Mr. Poley confirmed. “Alberto Hyu, our Queen’s great-great-great-grandfather. Through his tactical brilliance and the aid of the Lost 100, he saved this nation. He didn’t bow down to elves like King Loa did.”


    Mr. Poley clapped his hands, breaking the tension. He glanced out the window next to me before addressing the class.


    “We’ll pick up from here tomorrow. For now, head to the back garden. Next lesson is sword training—don’t be late.”