Solomon and the elf emerged from their confinement to find themselves in what appeared to be a mass meeting hall.
Several long rows of tables had been erected in front of a grand stage.
Waiting for them outside was presumably the man who had yelled at them to stop taking so long.
"Take a seat anywhere. Orientation starts after the others have finished."
He didn't offer to clean Solomon or the elf girl of the blood clinging to their bodies, and they didn't ask.
Instead, they took seats on opposing sides of the room, completely away from anyone else.
As time passed, more and more doors to the sealed chambers began to open.
Solomon didn't pay much attention to the other cadets as they entered. However, they couldn't say the same for him.
It was hard to overlook the very large man who was covered from head to toe in blood.
His appearance caused everyone in the room to avoid him like the plague. Solomon was perfectly fine with that. He wasn't exactly in the mood to be in anyone's face anyway.
"I think we've gotten all of the theatrics out of the way for the night. Congratulations on surviving your first examination at Volkova Academy!"
Solomon half-heartedly turned his gaze toward the stage.
There, he saw an old man in black robes standing between two knights. Solomon could feel how powerful they were, even with them trying to keep their auras concealed. Something within his blood stirred at the sight of them.
The old man was dark-skinned, with a full beard speckled with grey. His smile was deceitfully innocent and carefree. He seemed more like an ordinary grandfather rather than someone who should have been working at a murderous military academy.
He wore dark robes that obscured his entire body aside from his hands. His left bicep was wrapped in a purple sash bearing the academy insignia woven with gold.
"I am Raidis Zenuxim Volkova. But you cadets call me Dean Raidis."
"YES, DEAN RAIDIS!" The entire auditorium stood up and saluted.
The dean held out his hand to introduce a procession of older men and women.
"These are your instructors. Memorize their faces well, because from this day forward they hold your lives in their hands."
Solomon analyzed all of the individuals on stage one by one.
He could feel the strength emanating from their bodies like a subtle heat wave.
It was easy to pick out which of them were mages and which were knights. There was a noticeable physical difference between their body types.
As Solomon was committing all of their faces to memory, he noticed someone on stage staring at him.
It wasn't that surprising as he was currently covered in blood. However, the woman didn't seem to find him unsettling like the rest did. Her gaze was neutral, almost bordering on something curious.
Solomon was so taken aback that his eyes regained their clarity.
At the same time, the Dean was informing the rest of the recruits of their schedule.
"Now, I don't like to beat around the bush, so let's get right into the meat and potatoes of it all, shall we?
Classes are from five to one. You will receive two days at the end of the week for rest and recovery.
You will find no babysitters here. You have no curfew, as well as free rein of the island, but if your extracurricular activities should cause you to be late to your classes, swift action will be taken."
Everything that the dean was saying slowly turned into white noise for Solomon.
The only thing that he could focus on was the instructor who had yet to take her eyes off of him.
The woman stared at him for so long that there was no way she didn't also notice him looking back at her.
"- more information will be given out by your instructors upon your first day of classes the day after tomorrow. When you return to your room, your attendants will have already received your schedules, your uniforms, and a map of the academy."
The Dean looked around at the rest of his instructors; indicating for them to chime in if he missed anything.
When no more information was volunteered, the large man clapped his hands together abruptly.
"Alright then! I believe that's it from me, so you are all dismissed for the night. Rest well before your first day of classes, hm?"
The cadets stood up, one after the other and slowly filed out of the room in a dead silence.
Solomon heard the dismissal if he heard nothing else.
He slowly stood up; ignoring the uncomfortable squelching feeling occurring at multiple different crevices on his body.
There was nothing he wanted more than to go back to his room and submerge himself in boiling hot water.
"Young man. Allow me a word for a minute." A voice called out to him.
Solomon was learning that he may never get anything he wanted ever again.
He stopped in his tracks and turned back towards the stage where the Dean was staring at him and only him.
"Sir..?"
"That sword you used during the trial. Would I be correct in presuming it to be an armament?"
It hadn't occurred to Solomon until just that moment that no one else in his trial had been using weapons. He hoped he hadn't accidentally done something against the rules.
Armaments were physical weapons that could be stored inside one's soul. They can't be made; only found, and no one is quite sure of their origin.
The weapons are so rare, even Zadkiel didn't have one.
"It is, Dean Raidis." Solomon lied.
"And yet you are only an orange core. I thought it impossible for one so new to hold something of that magnitude..."
The old man began walking towards Solomon with a friendly smile and his hand outstretched.
"I'd like to see it, if you don't mind. This old man is quite curious."