My name is Jaune Arc, and I have to confess—I''ve gotten myself into quite a mess. Tomorrow, I have to report to the collection point, where I''ll be transported by plane to Beacon Academy.


    Me! A guy whose only combat experience comes from stories about my ancestors.


    I got up from bed, unable to sleep. Staring idly at the ceiling wasn''t helping, so I walked over to the shelf where the family heirloom lay: a beautiful sword that belonged to my great-great-grandfather during the Great War.


    I picked it up, holding it in my hand, marveling at its lightness and how perfectly it fit my grip. I gave it a few experimental swings before speaking aloud, almost without thinking:Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "Well, buddy, we''re going to be spending a lot of time together. Here''s hoping for a fruitful cooperation."


    Talking to a sword? Gosh, I must really be losing it.


    I stared at the blade for a moment longer before putting it back in its place. My bag was sitting on the floor next to the bed. If I couldn''t sleep anyway, I might as well double-check that I''d packed everything I needed.


    After going through my luggage twice, drinking two glasses of milk, and brushing my teeth again, I finally decided to give sleep another try.


    The last thought that went through my mind as I drifted off was something my relatives always said:


    If you fail at Beacon, it''s not a big deal. After all, there are plenty of other things you can do.


    I chuckled softly to myself.


    "Heh, we''ll see."