"Huh? You chose that one?" Old man Varek raised a brow in mild surprise. "That's kind of funny, newbie choosing another newbie as a mentor… haha."
He scratched his chin, then nodded thoughtfully.
"But looking at the details and his requirements, I can't really blame you. Honestly, it might be the smartest choice you could've made based of all other professors."
He pulled out a parchment and pushed it forward.
"Anyway, since you've made your decision, sign this contract to finalize Professor Dante as your mentor. After that, just wait here with the others until we're done."
Without hesitation, Mortis signed the contract and turned around, stepping off to the side.
The line of students moved swiftly after that until only one remained… Vanessa.
When her turn came, she walked calmly up to Varek, activated her bracelet, and selected the second option, opting to choose her own mentor as well. She browsed through the list with silent determination and eventually selected Professor Natasha.
Like the others, once everything was done, she turned and returned to others waiting. A few of them gave her curious glances as she had been the last, after all.
"Alright," Old man Varek said, clapping his hands once. "Now that all the administrative nonsense is over, here—take these and pick what suits you."
He reached behind his desk and pulled out two large wooden boxes, dropping them with a heavy thud in front of the group.
"In here are the two versions of our academy's uniforms. Pick whichever you prefer, there's more than enough of each, so no need to fight over them," he said, sipping from his tea with visible satisfaction.
Jenna stepped forward first and opened both boxes.
The first contained pitch-black robes like those worn by Jareth and Valthor.
The second box, however, held sets of sleek black leather armor—practical, minimal, and clearly built for movement rather than show.
Despite their differences, both sets bore the same emblem.
Emblazoned in the upper corner of each garment was a striking insignia:
A snarling, three-eyed demon's head, fanged and furious, its mouth frozen in a scream. The eyes, including the one set in its forehead glowed with a deep, blood-red light, as if containing a churning sea of blood.
Coiled behind its head were two serpent-like dragons, one forged from pure, pitch-black darkness, the other sculpted from blood itself. They bit into each other's tails, forming a twisted, ouroboros-like symbol: a mark of eternal transformation through destruction.
Mortis studied the emblem for a few silent moments, his gaze lingering on the coiling dragons and the depth in the demon's eyes.
By the time he looked away, most of the students had already chosen their uniforms and returned to their spots.
Without another thought, Mortis stepped forward and reached into the second box, pulling out a set of the black leather armor.
The room went oddly quiet.
Even Old man Varek raised a brow and gave a small chuckle.
"Interesting… You're the first one in a long time to choose that version," he said with a smirk.
Mortis looked back at him, brow slightly furrowed. "Why?"
Varek gave a shrug and leaned back in his chair.
"Well, robes are basically the iconic symbol of a Magus. That's just how it is."
He gestured vaguely with his teacup.
"Some Magi do wear armor, but they usually hide it beneath their robes. Because at the end of the day, we're scholars and researchers more than warriors."
He paused, taking a slow sip.
"To be honest, I'm not sure when exactly it changed… but according to our historic records, wearing armor openly used to be far more common. Especially in the ancient times, when Magi fought in wars just as often as they experimented in their towers. The world was constantly at war back then and battles were everywhere. It was chaos without end."
He set the cup down with a soft clink.
"Of course, there are still wars now… but nothing like what the historic records describe. It's been ages since a conflict engulfed the entire continents and even entire world."
He stood up and clapped his hands once.
"Anyway, now that you've all chosen your uniforms, it's time to show you the way to your mentors. Each of you will receive a wraith and they will lead you directly to your assigned mentor."
As the students began leaving one by one with silent, ethereal wraiths floating before them, Mortis made his way over to Valthor and Jareth, who had waited nearby the entire time.
"I'm heading out. Where should we meet regularly?" Mortis asked, his tone calm.
Jareth replied first, nodding.
"Let's just meet tomorrow at breakfast in the dining hall. We can exchange dormitory numbers then. Once we know where each of us is staying, it'll be easy to find each other whenever we're on campus."
Mortis gave a short nod in agreement. "Alright."
He turned around just as his wraith arrived. A ghostly, silent figure floating effortlessly in front of him.
He offered a polite bow to old man Varek, who gave a small wave in return without even looking up from his tea.
Without a word, Mortis followed the wraith through the tall doorway.
The wraith glided ahead, moving with precision as it guided him through the sprawling academy. They passed stone halls and arched corridors lit by flickering, cold-blue lamps. Occasionally, other students crossed their path, but none even looked at him. They walked around him without giving him even a glance, as if he were nothing more than a breeze passing by.
Eventually, the wraith led him up a familiar staircase, the same one he'd descended earlier, but this time ascending into the higher levels of the academy. After moving through several side corridors, they emerged into a broad hallway.
The hallway was lined on both sides with doors, each bearing a small plaque etched with a professor's name. It looked like a row of private offices or study chambers.
Finally, the wraith came to a stop in front of a particular door. Mortis's eyes landed on the engraved name:
"Professor Dante"
Before he could knock or speak, the wraith drifted silently through the door and vanished. A moment later, a deep voice echoed from inside.
"Enter."
Mortis didn't hesitate. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was far more spacious than he'd expected. Judging by the tight arrangement of doors outside, he'd imagined something cramped. But this was closer to a laboratory than a professor's office.
In the center stood a massive table cluttered with half-dissected monster carcasses, strange organs, bloodied bones, and a chaotic spread of flasks, beakers, pipettes, crucibles, and other chemical tools. Two smaller tables sat off to the sides, currently empty. A large bookshelf lined the far wall, filled with dusty tomes, jars of unknown contents, and other things.
And standing beside the massive central table was a tall, broad-shouldered man. His robes were similar to the academy's robes other new students choose, except the shoulders were embroidered with gold. His pitch-black hair was slicked back, and his piercing dark green eyes studied Mortis as if he was a curious specimen.
What was most striking, though, was that the man was soaked in blood.
From the red-streaked gloves to the sticky stains on his sleeves, he looked as though he'd just finished butchering someone. In one hand, he held a pair of bloody pincers. But, despite all that mess, he grinned.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Professor Dante," he said mockingly. "From now on, I'll be your mentor."