The Nameless Extra: I Proofread This World-Chapter 33: The Prologue

After an hour of travel, the carriage finally rolled to a stop. The gentle sway that had accompanied Ruvian throughout the journey vanished, replaced by an expectant atmosphere.

Ruvian slowly stepped out of the carriage. And the first thing that struck him was the sheer magnitude of the place.

Velthia Academy’s gates towered before him, a colossus of black iron and ancient stone, its presence as heavy as the history it carried.

And then, the main gate of the academy came into view.

They loomed over the procession, an immense structure of magic reinforced stone, standing as both a threshold and a warning.

Above, an arch bore the academy’s name in bold, silver lettering.

[Velthia Academy]

’I’m finally here...’

The academy itself stretched beyond the gate, its spires piercing the sky. And Ruvian wasn’t alone in his arrival.

All around him, other carriages pulled up, their crests bearing symbols of noble houses, prestigious guilds, and even far-off academies that had sent their finest to study here.

He watched as scholars disembarked, some with the practiced grace of aristocrats, while others moving with barely contained excitement or anxious stiffness.

’How exciting.’

He adjusted the strap of his travel pack with a feverish smile, feeling the weight settle against his back.

The uniform, still somewhat stiff and unfamiliar on his skin, but now, marked him as one of them.

Yet unlike some of these scholars, he had no status name to flaunt, no servants to shadow his steps.

None of it.

He was just a commoner after all.

Ruvian deeply inhaled, turning his gaze toward the gates.

The line moved steadily, a procession of new scholars arriving one after another before the towering gates of Velthia Academy.

Ruvian stood in the queue, following the others, his presence unassuming among the mixed scholars waiting for their turn.

Ahead, a scholar dressed in fine noble attire confidently presented a sealed letter bearing an intricate crest.

The official, a stern-looking man with a monocle, barely glanced at it before giving a nod.

"House Avelmont. Verified. Please, proceed."

The young noble strode through without a second glance.

One by one, scholars stepped forward, their names checked against the records before they were granted entry.

Some had documents handed over by their retainers, while others, especially commoners, produced parchment carefully sealed with wax, signs of their hard-earned acceptance.

Then, after a while, it was Ruvian’s turn.

He stepped forward, presenting the letter he had carried since his departure.

The official took it, adjusting his monocle as he studied the seal before unfolding the parchment.

"Ruvian Castelor," the man read aloud, his tone neutral. He paused briefly, eyes flicking over the details.

The moment somewhat stretched slightly longer than necessary. There was no outright disdain in the official’s expression, but Ruvian could sense the subtle evaluation in the man’s gaze.

’There’s no way I would be rejected, right?’

The official cleared his throat and stamped the parchment with an enchanted sigil, causing a faint golden glow to flicker across its surface.

"Verified. You may proceed."

"Thank you."

Ruvian accepted the document and stepped forward through the massive iron gates, feeling the subtle hum of mana as he passed beneath the arch.

Immediately, an attendant in the academy’s uniform approached. A young man, perhaps a senior scholar, assigned to assist newcomers.

"New enrollment?" the attendant asked briskly. He already knew that Ruvian was the new enrollment, but perhaps he had asked it just for the sake of formality.

Ruvian gave a slight nod.

"Yes."

"I’ll escort you. Your belongings will be taken to your assigned dormitory," the attendant continued, gesturing toward another assistant who was already reaching for Ruvian’s travel bag.

"Don’t worry, I will take good care of them." The other male scholars assured him.

’Can I trust them? No, should I trust them?’

Ruvian’s fingers twitched slightly before he let go.

He wasn’t used to someone else handling his things. A habit from his previous life, but the attendant didn’t seem to notice.

"Follow me." The first assistant said.

Ruvian fell into step behind him, taking in his surroundings as they moved deeper into the academy grounds.

’Now, this is way more impressive than The Evermere Plaza.’

In the end, he couldn’t help but marvel at the architecture around him.

The marble pathways stretched ahead, lined with statues of past scholars and legendary figures who had once walked these halls. The air itself felt different here.

Then, just as the sunlight pierced the colonnade to his right, the translucent blue grimoire appeared with a familiar sound of a sapphire page turning to a new one.

[’The Prologue’ has reached its conclusion.]

[Bearer of the Fable, from this moment onwards, make sure your footnote ends here.]

[Entering Arc I: ’Beneath the Banner of Enrollment’.]

[You have endured the prologue!]

[Reward Granted: +500 Plot Points]

Ruvian smiled sheepishly.

’So this is where the prologue ended.’

*****

Ruvian adjusted his collar; his gaze remained sharp and observant. The Administrative Hall stood in its grandeur, the towering marble pillars supporting a vaulted ceiling.

Despite its grand size, the hall was filled with a steady hum, as new scholars murmured among themselves, and the occasional rustling of parchment was heard as faculty members processed numerous registrations.

Ruvian stepped inside without hesitation.

His gaze swept across the room, taking in everything at a glance.

Five registration counters, each manned by instructors dressed in academy robes. A few robed disciplinary officers stood nearby, ensuring order.

It was exactly as the novel had described.

The air moved with faint mana fluctuations. Beneath the surface, magic formations lay embedded in the floor, designed to verify identities and detect fraudulent attempts.

It was a necessary security measure.

"Please infuse your mana into the artifact."

The instructor at the front instructed a nervous-looking boy.

The scholar placed his hand over the crystal orb embedded in the desk, his fingers trembling slightly.

Then, his mana pulsed, weakly. A flicker of light confirmed his registration, but the delay was obvious.

A sharp voice cut through his thoughts.

"Next!"

Ruvian stepped forward. It was a sharp-eyed woman with silver-rimmed glasses, who barely looked up from her records.

"Name?"

"Ruvian Castelor."

She adjusted her glasses. "Castelor... You are listed under general admission, correct?"

"Yes."

She marked something on the parchment with a contemptuous expression before motioning to the mana registration device.

"Proceed with imprinting."

Ruvian placed his hand on the artifact, allowing a controlled stream of mana to flow into the orb. The artifact pulsed with light. The inscription process had worked flawlessly.

If there was any issue, it was undetectable.

"Confirmed," the instructor said, handing him a small, Velthia insignia-shaped badge and a booklet.

"This badge will serve as your identification within the academy. Do not lose it."

The insignia was sleek and inscribed with mana circuits. At a glance, it was just a badge, but he knew it had multiple functions.

Identity verification within the academy grounds and access restriction, certain areas required different insignia levels to enter.

His gaze lingered on it for only a second before tucking it away.

"Next."

The instructor had already moved on to the next scholar.

’As expected.’

Everything was proceeding as he already knew it would.

The escort guided him through grand double doors, their gilded edges parting to unveil an expansive hall, its air alive with the glow of chandeliers hanging above.

The light danced across the polished marble floors, sending ripples of reflection to the high ceiling, where golden filigree traced patterns.

Banners from noble houses and influential factions swayed gently from the arches, their sigils telling stories of legacies both old and emerging.

Rows of scholars, freshly enrolled, brimming with ambition, filled the grand chamber, their expressions a delicate balance of awe, nerves, and pride.

’Now, I wonder where they are?’

Ruvian’s gaze swept over them, searching, assessing the names from his memory, the one that was drawn from the laptop screen that he had read countless times.

Calyra Arcanis.

Rosalin Varion.

Loden Armand.

And at the heart of it all, Julian Rozenberg. The early antagonist of this story. The one who would orchestrate Zian Herga’s downfall.

Yet, for some reason, Zian was nowhere to be seen in the hall.

’Is he late?’

"Sir Castelor, your seat is over there."

The escort’s voice cut through his thoughts.

"Thank you."

He followed the subtle gesture to a row near the center, where those of a certain standing had been placed.

Without a word, he made his way forward, settling into his assigned place. He took his seat, silent and watchful, as the academy’s story arc began to unfold around him.

But then, somehow, he saw someone he recognised very well from his row.

Sitting in the front row was none other than Silvena D’Elvoire.

’Good. She really came here...’

Later, a hush fell over the hall, the murmurs of gathered scholars dissolving into expectant silence.

Then, after a few minutes that was closer to an hour...

Chime!

A sharp, resonant note rang through the air, reverberating against the marble columns and settling deep into the bones of those who heard it.

It was no ordinary bell.

The sound came from an artifact, an ancient relic, older than the academy itself. A chime that marked the beginning of eras and the turning of fates.

And so, Velthia Academy’s Opening Ceremony had finally begun.

[ End of Volume One: The Prologue ]

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[Chapter 33: The Prologue]

Plot Points = 7570