After having his moment stolen so effortlessly by Damien earlier at the gate, Stanley had gone back to his room seething with quiet anger and humiliation.

He had replayed the entire event over and over in his mind, the way everyone's eyes had turned from awe of him to curiosity toward that commoner-looking boy.

Even though he had arrived at the elite dormitory minutes after Damien, his frustration had driven him to immediately head for the classroom instead of wasting time looking around.

So, when Damien walked into the class now, guided personally by Rena, the head instructor of the first years, the embers of irritation within him flared instantly into flame.

'Of course he's late… and he comes in with the head instructor herself?' Stanley thought bitterly.

His jaw tightened as his fingers dug into the fabric of his pants.

He could already feel the stares shifting again—from him to Damien.

That familiar, crawling sense of jealousy twisted in his chest.

'He's about to steal my shine again.' he thought, his gaze darting between Damien and the rest of the class.

He couldn't help but wonder if Damien's unique class was similar to his, requiring magic training also.

This class was actually for those with the mage class, but due to his unique class requirement, he needed to join them in the lesson.

There was also the fact that Damien had been escorted here personally by Rena, the head instructors, which made him more envious.

That should be me walking beside her, he thought, jealously welling up within him.

Damien, on the other hand, seemed entirely indifferent to the silent storm brewing within Stanley's mind.

He gave a polite nod toward Rena beside him, then stepped into the classroom.

Rena sighed softly, shaking her head as she turned away.

She easily notice the fire burning in Stanley's eyes when he set his eye on Damien, so she could tell how unsettled he was by the boy's appearance.

Closing the door gently behind her, she exhaled, her gaze distant.

'We haven't had a unique class student for about a hundred years… and now, we have two. Things are about to get interesting.'

Meanwhile, inside the classroom, a faint tension lingered in the air.

The instructor in green robes, who had paused briefly when Damien entered, now turned his gaze toward him.

His eyes were narrow, analyzing, though his expression was mostly calm.

He studied Damien for a few seconds longer — there was something unusual about the boy's presence.

Still, the instructor simply turned away, saying in a composed tone, "Now, let's continue the class."

But before he could continue, another voice cut sharply through the quiet air.

"He's late."

The words came from Stanley, whose eyes remained glued on Damien.

His blue hair shimmered faintly under the light, his face drawn into a righteous frown.

Everyone's heads turned toward him, some confused, others wary.

"We have all been here for a while now," Stanley continued loudly, his tone edged with annoyance. "And he's just coming in."

The instructor blinked once, his brow raising slightly.

"Yeah… you're right," he said slowly, glancing briefly toward Damien. "But let's not let that delay us. We'll—"

"No."

Stanley's voice cut through the instructor's words as he suddenly sprang to his feet.

The instructor frowned slightly but didn't interrupt.

Stanley pointed a finger at Damien, his expression fierce, and his voice grew louder.

"Him coming this late," he declared, "is an insult to the dignity of everyone in this class! It means he doesn't care about us, or about this class!"

Gasps and murmurs spread across the room. Some students shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other. Others leaned in curiously, whispering under their breath.

Damien stood still, his gaze calm, though his eyes flashed with irritation.

He hadn't even opened his mouth, and yet somehow this dramatic blue-haired idiot was already trying to stir the crowd against him.

The instructor sighed inwardly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Stanley, however, seeing he was already getting attention started speaking even louder.

"He should apologize to the class," Stanley said sharply, his eyes locked on Damien. "He should show that he respects the discipline of the academy!"

The class fell into silence at that.

All eyes were now on Damien.

"Stanley's right," one of the boys muttered, nodding his head in agreement.

"Yeah, he came in late and doesn't even show regard for this class," another girl added, her tone indignant.

"It's disrespectful to all of us," came another voice, followed by several agreeing nods.

They didn't know yet that Damien was actually an elite student, and only assumed he was just a normal student like the rest of them.

The noise grew louder, and some of them even started clapping in support of Stanley's words.

Damien's eyes twitched, but his expression remained calm for the most part.

'Again,' he thought, 'they're glazing him for no reason. Just like every other idiot in this game.'

Stanley, seeing how the class began to turn in his favor, shook in joy.

The corner of his mouth lifted, his chest puffing proudly.

'Of course… there's no way he can compare with me,' he thought, chucking inwardly.

He took a dramatic step forward, pointing once again at Damien.

"He's not even putting on his uniform!" Stanley exclaimed, his voice echoing off the classroom's wooden walls. "That's the most disrespectful thing a student could possibly do!"

A small chorus of "Yeah!" and "Exactly!" followed, feeding his inflated ego even more.

Then, as though performing on a stage, Stanley placed a hand on his chest and raised his chin.

"As an elite student of this prestigious academy…" he began, his tone noble and righteous, "I can't stand and watch this disrespect go on any longer!"

The students clapped, cheering louder now, while the two beautiful girls sitting where he had been previously looked up at him with glimmering admiration.

One of them even clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling.

The instructor, standing near the front, couldn't help the faint smirk that tugged at his lips.

His expression shifted into one of mild amusement as he leaned back slightly, arms crossed.

Stanley was right, in a way—there were rules about punctuality and uniforms. But this wasn't just any student.

Damien was not only an elite-class student, he was one personally escorted by Head Instructor Rena herself.

That alone gave him certain privileges, certain leeways that most students would never have, so he couldn't be bothered about a trivial matter such as him coming late to class.

So while the crowd clamored and Stanley's self-righteous performance grew ever more dramatic, the instructor decided not to intervene.

He simply watched.

'Let's see where this goes,' he thought.

Meanwhile, the classroom buzzed like a hive around Stanley.

He basked in it all—the attention, the cheers, the shining admiration of the girls beside him. His pride swelled, bloating his confidence even further.

He stomped one foot loudly on the wooden floor, his voice rising above the noise.

"In the honor of everyone in this class!" he declared, throwing his hand toward the ceiling. "I challenge this insolent student to a duel!"

The class erupted into gasps and whispers.

"A duel?"

"Already?"

"But he just got here!"

"Stanley's so cool!"

"He's defending the class's honor!"

But then, amidst all that praises, a soft chuckle broke through.

It was Damien.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he met Stanley's eyes fully.

"Is that so?" he said softly, his tone both mocking and intrigued.

[New Quest: An Honourable Duel?]

[Objective: Beat Stanley Dame in the duel]

[Reward: 6000 Hunter Points]

'I didn't expect to receive a quest from this idiot's provocation…' he thought. 'But then again, all Hunter Points are welcome.'

Stanley, watching him from across the classroom, frowned immediately.

That confident, entertained look on Damien's face… it wasn't what he'd been expecting at all.

'Something feels wrong…' he thought, his jaw tightening.

In his mind, the scenario had been perfect—practically cinematic.

He would call Damien out, and the latter would stammer and panic, maybe even beg for forgiveness at his disrespectful actions.

Stanley would then deliver some "noble" speech about humility and respect, earning the admiration of everyone in the class.

His image in the student's mind would instantly soar, and the girls would swoon in response.

It was all so clear in his head, the perfect plan to humble the strange person before him.

And yet… none of that was happening.

Instead, Damien looked excited.

The faint glint of interest in his eyes sent a strange shiver through Stanley's chest, though he quickly pushed it aside.

His lips thinned as he forced a smirk back onto his face, though it didn't reach his eyes this time.

'It doesn't really matter,' he told himself, straightening his back. 'He can laugh all he wants. I'll make sure to put him in his place this time. He'll regret ever crossing me.'

With that, he turned sharply to the instructor standing at the front. "Would you permit us to have this duel, Instructor?"

The man smiled, his eyes shifting from Stanley to Damien, then back again.

"Of course," he said lightly, nodding once. "Why not? A duel between students is always… educational."

A few minutes later, the wide floor space in the center of the class had been cleared.

Students stood in a loose circle around it, whispering to one another in anticipation.

At the center of it all stood Damien and Stanley, facing each other.

Stanley's expression was sharp, his features twisted into the kind of focused confidence that came from overestimating oneself.

His hand gripped a wooden sword—a standard academy practice weapon—its polished surface gleaming faintly under the room's lights.

Across from him, Damien held… a short wooden rod. Barely longer than his forearm, it looked more like a broken stick than a weapon.

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