Chapter 217: Protagonist
Arriving at the venue of the Astra Control class, Asher stood before a towering double door that loomed like the guardian of some ancient, galaxy-shaking secret sealed within the chamber it protected.
’In novels I’ve read, the protagonist usually arrives late, leaving an impression on the teacher and fellow students,’ Asher thought with a faint, amused smile curling his lips.
’Yet here I am, punctual. Even with a system at my side, if this truly were a story I had reincarnated into, a novel unfamiliar to me, I might very well end up as nothing more than an extra.’
The smile vanished, his face smoothing into an unreadable mask. With deliberate calm, without extending his hand he activated his Astra Control. Space shifted subtly, and the double doors swung open before him with a deep groan. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.
At once, dozens of eyes turned toward him. The collective weight of their gazes pressed against his frame, scrutinizing him in silence. Asher, however, met no one’s gaze directly. Instead, his purple eyes swept across the classroom, drinking in its structure and layout.
The hall was arranged like a miniature coliseum. A raised stage dominated the front, with a podium standing proudly at its center. Surrounding it were ascending tiers of seats, precisely two hundred in number, designed for the two hundred freshly admitted students who had survived the rigorous trials of entry.
Asher felt several gazes linger on him, sharp and probing. They had already studied him yesterday and the day before, yet curiosity persisted. Still, he remained unmoved. His expression apathetic, he strode calmly forward, his footsteps echoing faintly against the polished floor. He ascended the small flight of stairs leading to the higher seats until he reached the back row, near the window, and seated himself with unhurried grace.
At the front, the majority of noble-born students occupied prime seats. Their fine clothes and polished airs radiated arrogance, though their inherited status held no weight within these walls. Star Academy was the great equalizer, a crucible where bloodlines mattered little compared to ability. But still, old habits of superiority clung to them like a second skin.
The top ten students had also claimed their places at the front. William, seated in the front row, glanced toward Asher briefly. Their eyes met, and William gave a faint nod of acknowledgment. Asher returned the gesture with equal subtlety before closing his eyes, retreating into his own thoughts.
’Since there are still a few minutes left, I may as well rest until the instructor arrives,’ he thought silently. His eyelids lowered, shutting out the world, as if it were too burdened with sins and filth to warrant his attention.
More students trickled in by the minute, filling the seats as the start of class drew nearer. The room grew lively with chatter, voices overlapping in a constant hum.
Then suddenly, Asher’s eyes snapped open. A new presence had entered.
Instantly, the atmosphere shifted. Conversations died. Laughter and whispers were cut short. Silence fell like a heavy curtain. All eyes turned toward the doorway.
A woman walked in.
Her strides were calm, measured, carrying an unshakable authority. Long black hair cascaded down her back like a midnight waterfall, complementing the fitted black attire she wore. Her heels clicked crisply against the floor, each sound striking with immaculate rhythm as she ascended the stage. When she reached the podium, she stood still, unmoving.
Her crimson eyes swept across the hall, sharp and penetrating. They seemed to peer directly into the hearts of every student present, assessing their worth in an instant. It felt as though she could already determine who among them would flourish and who would be expelled long before the week was over.
She did not release her aura. She did not need to. These students were barely eighteen, children still finding their footing. Her mere presence was enough to bend the atmosphere to her will.
’System,’ Asher whispered mentally, ’if I’m not mistaken, isn’t there still about two minutes before class officially begins?’
[You are correct, Host]
The chime rang in his mind, calm and matter-of-fact.
’So she’s one of those instructors who prefer to arrive before the appointed time,’ Asher mused.
The woman remained silent, crimson eyes sweeping across the chamber as if she were content to let the weight of her presence alone command order.
[Host, it is now nine o’clock]
The exact moment the system reported the time, the woman’s lips parted.
"Good morning," she said, her voice carrying effortlessly across the hall, clear and unyielding. "My name is Melissa. You may call me Instructor Melissa, or simply Melissa. Either is acceptable."
Her tone was calm, yet each word carried weight, as though chiseling itself into the minds of her audience. The students leaned forward, not daring to miss even a single syllable.
"As you’ve likely surmised, I will be overseeing the Astra Control class. In essence, my task is to dismantle whatever crude control you currently possess, and then reconstruct it, forcing you to develop it to the absolute limit of your abilities."
The room stirred. Some students hastily pulled out notebooks and pens, their hands trembling with eagerness to transcribe every word. Others, wealthier or better prepared, retrieved glowing recording orbs, intent on capturing her lecture for endless replay.
"To begin—" Melissa continued, but her words were abruptly cut short by the creak of the classroom door opening once more.
Every head turned instantly.
A boy stood in the doorway, frozen under the sudden intensity of two hundred pairs of eyes. His steps faltered, hesitation rooting him in place. The silence stretched, oppressive.
Melissa’s crimson gaze locked on him. "Late to your very first class?" Her tone was calm, devoid of anger yet sharper than any blade. "Might I know your reason?"
The boy swallowed, then forced his words out. "I... overslept. There was no alarm or clock in the room," he admitted, his expression caught between apology and frustration.
Melissa regarded him with quiet scrutiny. "How many points remain to your name?"
The silence thickened further. The question was heavy, and the implications even more so. Students exchanged glances, their thoughts racing: "Was she truly about to strip him of everything?"
The boy shifted uneasily before answering, "Three hundred and five points." His voice carried a faint tremor, betraying his fear.
Melissa’s expression remained unchanged. "Rank one hundred ninety-seven," she intoned. "You will be charged three hundred and four points for your lateness. Take your seat."
A collective shiver rippled through the room.
The boy’s face paled. To be reduced to a single point on the first day was no less than a curse. His future at the academy already seemed to teeter on the edge of ruin. But he did not argue. With clenched fists and downcast eyes, he walked to the only empty chair and sat without another word.
From the back row, Asher observed with detached curiosity.
’Commoner, check. Low class rank, check. Late on the very first day, check. Oversleeping as an excuse, check. And... ridiculously handsome despite being dirt poor, check. Did I just stumble across the actual protagonist of this story?’
The thought lingered for a moment before Asher dismissed it with an inward shake of his head. ’No. Useless distractions.’ His attention returned to Melissa as the lesson began.