"Weiss, even though we descendants of heroes are nothing more than relics of the past—forgotten by history with almost no responsibility left to bear—you must never disregard the pride and dignity our ancestors cultivated."

When I was little, my grandfather often repeated those words with relentless fervor.

"You are the first Inheritor to be born into our lineage in centuries. Because of that, you’ll face many hardships, but there's one thing you must never forget."

"What’s that?"

"The fact that you were born means, unfortunately, that the relic of a hero is needed once again. Surely, as a savior, you’ll help many people, but at the same time, you’ll bear countless lives—and lose some too. But no matter what, you’ll never be alone. No matter how painful or difficult it may be, comrades who will overcome those trials with you are destined to appear. It’s the fate of our bloodline."

"I don’t really get it."

As a child, I couldn’t understand even half of what he meant. I could only tilt my head in confusion. Naturally, it was too complicated for me. It was entirely my grandfather’s fault for springing such a heavy topic on me out of the blue. Still, I listened to his stories intently.

"That’s fine for now. Just remembering this conversation will be enough."

Seeing my puzzled expression, my grandfather would always smile warmly and gently pat my head. I loved that about him. Even now, the meaning of his words back then remains unclear to me. After all, being called "a descendant of heroes" or "the first Inheritor in centuries" felt completely surreal.

I, Weiss Brightness, am an utterly ordinary person—no special abilities, timid, with no friends I could call companions. Just an average citizen. So when a letter arrived from the kingdom regarding an academy entrance exam, I was stunned.

The Chronostaria Academy of Magic and Swords.

An esteemed institution where only the most promising children with a bright future can enroll. It’s not the kind of place where an ordinary citizen can just decide to take the exam. What could be the reason for me, of all people, to receive such an opportunity? That question was quickly answered.

It was because I was a potential hero.

That was the sole reason. The kingdom gave me this chance to assess whether I might truly be a hero, despite my apparent lack of talent.

Honestly, I didn’t care about being a hero or inheriting the bloodline of my ancestors. But for the first time, I felt gratitude for this blood. After all, it might allow me to achieve the dream I had long given up on: to become the strongest knight in the kingdom, like the Crimson-Blooded Knight I admired as a child. With that hope suddenly thrust upon me, I had no reason to refuse. I decided to take the exam.

And the result—

I passed. The written and practical exams were hopeless, but somehow, thanks to the magic I could barely control, I managed to gain admission to the academy.

"I…I did it!"

It wasn’t a graceful victory, but I was thrilled to have passed. My family was happy for me, and I was filled with determination to work hard to achieve my dream.

—Maybe I could even make a friend, something I’d never had before.

That hope brought excitement. Living in the dorms for the first time, I was nervous about sharing a room with someone else, but my roommate turned out to be a genuinely kind person.

When I first heard his name, I was surprised, but he accepted me without discrimination and tried to befriend me. I was overjoyed. Could this be what people mean by "a friend"? I couldn’t help but feel giddy, even though it was childish.

I thought my academy life was off to a great start. But that was just a misunderstanding—

The academy primarily accepts nobles, warriors, or child prodigies with remarkable achievements far beyond their years.

In other words, most students here are strong and destined to become knights who protect the kingdom—or even the Seven Peerless Swords, the unparalleled protectors of the king. For an ordinary, unremarkable person like me to join such a den of prodigies… well, the outcome was inevitable.

"Why is there an ordinary citizen here?"

"Your knowledge and swordsmanship are pathetic. Why were you even chosen?"

"There must’ve been someone more deserving of this spot."

Being from a commoner background made me an anomaly. Though the academy claimed to espouse "survival of the fittest," the lingering class consciousness among students ran deep. For a newcomer, it was even worse.

If I had the strength to compete with them, there wouldn’t have been a problem. But as I mentioned, I’m ordinary—unremarkable. Here, I was undoubtedly categorized as weak and useless.

"Pl-please, stop—"

The powerless are mercilessly weeded out.

"Hey, don’t quit now. We’re just getting started!"

"Yeah, we’re doing this for your own good, giving you some training."

On my third day at the academy, I had already lost any place to belong. My classmates dragged me to the training grounds under the guise of "practice" and beat me up.

The top student in my B-Class, Stud Bain, had taken issue with me from the start and was relentless in targeting me. I had been marked as someone to be eliminated.

—So this is what nobles are really like.

The first noble I spoke to must have been an exception. Nobles who treat commoners equally are rare. Even knowing that, I couldn’t help but be grateful to him. It was reassuring to know that someone like him existed.

Reality was cruel, but I could endure this. Once I returned to my room, I could talk and laugh with my friend again.

—That was enough.

I was surrounded, punched, and kicked without restraint. I couldn’t fight back. If I did, the retaliation would be even worse. That scared me more than anything.

"Hey, don’t start crying now!"

"Ugh—!"

Unbidden, tears streamed down my face. I wanted to hold them back, but I couldn’t. It was too much. I was frustrated, ashamed, and wished I could disappear.

"Still got some fight in you? Let’s keep going—"

"Somebody… help—"

Unconsciously, I called out for help. Even though I knew no one would come, even though no one was obligated to get involved in this mess—

"That’s enough. Leave him alone."

—And yet.

"Huh?"

"What’s your problem, huh—"

The blows suddenly stopped. Looking up, I saw the only person who might call me a friend standing protectively in front of me.

"Care to explain, in painstaking detail, why you’re doing this to someone I hold dear?"

His expression, terrifying yet dignified, took my breath away.

"Claym…kun!"

"Sorry I’m late. You’re safe now, Weiss."

In that moment, he looked so much like the Crimson-Blooded Knight I had always admired.