I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!

Ashok's crimson gaze swept across the grand hall, casually pausing near the gate at the far end of the chamber.

Mia stood there, her presence as steady and imposing as ever, silently overseeing the students with an air of quiet authority.

Her eyes traced each movement within the hall, ensuring the process remained orderly, though she remained an inscrutable figure, offering neither guidance nor commentary.

'There's still time before he arrives,' Ashok thought inwardly.

He glanced toward the sword section, where Leon stood among rows of gleaming blades.

Leon's focused gaze moved methodically over the weapons, his contemplation evident as he deliberated over his choice.

'What is he going to pick?' Ashok wondered, curiosity flickering in his mind.

For Ashok, the significance of this moment transcended the immediate setting.

Having completed the game's story from every conceivable angle and through the perspective of every character, he understood the profound impact weapons could have on a character's development.

In the World, weapons weren't just tools—they were extensions of the wielder, playing pivotal roles in growth, adaptability, and even destiny.

The Weapons given by the Academy are just starters for training purposes, true artifacts are within Dungeons and treasuries waiting to be claimed.

The flexibility granted by the Academy's system—allowing students to change weapons if needed—was a pragmatic approach.

After all, expecting anyone to select a lifelong weapon within half an hour would be unrealistic.

However, Ashok knew better than most the consequences of shifting between weapons too often.

While experimentation was encouraged, mastery required dedication.

The time and effort invested in honing a single weapon could never be replaced, and any deviation from that path meant starting from scratch, sacrificing potential growth along the way.

'Mastery demands day and night of Grinding,' Ashok reflected, observing the nervous excitement in his peers as they tested and swapped between weapons.

'The Weapon they chose here will become their Trait upon achieving a basic Mastery then the journey to gain proficiency will start'

Without Weapon Arts or Aura to aid them, the road to proficiency was long and arduous.

Even those blessed with talent—the so-called geniuses capable of grasping years of training in a single swing—would eventually face the same immovable wall.

Talent could only carry one so far; beyond that, only perseverance could bridge the gap between potential and true mastery.

'So, what is it going to be? Long Sword, Short Sword, Sword and Shield, or Dual Wield?' Ashok pondered, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as they settled on Leon, who stood in the midst of the Sword Section.

Ashok's preference was clear—he would have chosen the Sword and Shield for someone like Leon.

With Leon's monstrous stats, the combination offered unparalleled balance, excelling in both party synergy and solo combat.

It was a practical and strategic choice, designed to adapt to any situation with equal finesse.

Leon, however, seemed to have other plans.

His hands moved with purpose, gripping the handle of a massive blade—a 1.5-meter-long Ultra Great Sword.

With both hands firmly gripping the hilt, Leon hoisted the sword into the air.

His muscles tightened, his posture steady, as he brought the blade down in a powerful arc that sliced cleanly through the empty space.

The sound of the sword cutting through the air carried a weight that silenced even the faint murmurs around him.

Leon wasn't content with a few simple swings.

His movements grew more deliberate as he tested the weapon's versatility, transitioning smoothly between stances.

He crouched low, shifting his weight as though guarding against an unseen opponent, then adjusted his grip to simulate a defensive posture.

Each swing, each stance, was a calculated exploration of the sword's potential—its weight, its balance, its compatibility with his own abilities.

Ashok leaned casually against a nearby cabinet, his mind already dissecting Leon's choice.

'An Ultra Great Sword—a full attack build. Risky, It plays to Leon's strengths, especially in the early stages. His first companion, Althea, will cover for his shortcomings with her supportive abilities. Though the future seems bleak to me'

His gaze shifted to Althea, standing gracefully in the Mage's Section of the hall. She had chosen a staff.

'What is wrong with everyone? The prodigy picks a staff instead of a wand.' Ashok found her choice puzzling.

The was a huge practical difference between a staff and a wand.

While both aided mages in spellcasting, the larger mana stone of a staff required more stamina to wield effectively—a potential liability in a battlefield where constant mobility was key.

Mages, often neglecting physical training, were easy prey for close-combat classes.

A wand, with its smaller mana stone and lighter design, was far more suited for agile spellcasters in such situations.

Ashok's gaze shifted to Alina, standing silently near the Mage's Section.

She had chosen a wand—the quintessential mage's weapon.

'Yep, that's how a magician should be,' Ashok thought, nodding inwardly in approval at her practical choice.

Next, his sharp eyes caught Gideon, standing in a far corner of the hall.

Gideon, a student destined for the role of a side character, had selected gauntlets as his weapon.

'He's is a Brawler Class,' Ashok thought, observing Gideon's form. 'Even though he's just a side character, when it comes to pure technique, nobody here could beat him in one-on-one combat.'

From Gideon, Ashok's focus shifted to the massive figure of Varnok, the Barbarian.

The imposing student had picked a simple, heavy Club, its rough surface almost primitive compared to the polished sophistication of other weapons.

While blunt weapons like War Hammers and Morning Stars were available, Varnok seemed content with his rudimentary choice.

'Wielding a club, he looks more like an Orc than a Barbarian,' Ashok thought dryly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Finally, Ashok's gaze settled on Elira, the Elf Princess, who had chosen a Bow. The elegant weapon seemed to complement her lithe frame.

'Nothing unexpected. The Definition of an Elf is Bow plus Spirit Magic,'

Isolde, with her cold yet flawless features, moved gracefully across the hall. She had chosen a Rapier, its slender blade glinting faintly in the magical light.

Lilia, by contrast, had selected a Composite Sword, its design a blend of practicality and precision.

Ashok's crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he observed her choice.

'I expected something along the lines of a Whip, considering how openly she flaunts her powers of the Sin of Lust,' he mused, the faintest trace of amusement flickering in his mind.

'Though at the end of the day, there isn't much difference between the two weapons. Both require control and dexterity.'

His gaze drifted around the hall, searching briefly for Lilia's shadowy companion, Lyssa.

Unsurprisingly, she was nowhere to be seen, her concealment abilities working flawlessly even in a space designed to command attention.

'She should be picking something melee, like daggers,' Ashok thought, dismissing the pursuit as futile.

'Trying to spot an Assassin hiding their presence is just a waste of time.'

As Ashok shifted his attention to the rest of the room, his careful observations mirrored those of Mia, who stood at the far end of the hall near the grand gate.

Like Ashok, her piercing blue eyes swept across the students. She silently assessed their choices and how they wielded their selected weapons, keenly observing their potential and shortcomings.

Most students swung their weapons in empty air, testing weight, balance, and versatility with varying levels of confidence.

It wasn't long before Mia's sharp gaze landed on Adlet.

Her brows furrowed in mild irritation as she watched him meander through the hall, hands casually tucked in his pockets, his movements slow and seemingly aimless.

At times, he would stop and stare intensely at the weapons within the cabinets as though in deep thought, only to redirect his focus to the other students, his expression unreadable.

'What is he doing?' Mia thought, the question forming almost instinctively as her irritation deepened. Half the allotted time had already passed, yet here was a student who hadn't even touched a single weapon.

To Mia, it looked like Adlet was wasting not just his own time, but the opportunity presented to him.

Her lips parted slightly, ready to call him out and demand an explanation for his behavior, when a rough voice interrupted her thoughts.

"These are the Golden Seeds, though they don't look much to me,"

Mia turned her gaze to the side there stood a stout dwarf observing the students while rubbing his beard.

"Good morning, Teacher Hamiel," Mia said, inclining her head in a polite bow, her voice calm and formal.

Hamiel chuckled heartily, his laughter ringing out across the hall.

"Hoho! No need for such formalities," he replied, waving a hand dismissively.

"You're a teacher now, after all. Though I must say, it feels like only yesterday you were running around this Academy together with that Mad Dog, wearing the same uniform as these fledglings. Haha! Time surely flies, doesn't it?"

Mia's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes remaining neutral as she responded, "Please refrain from mentioning such things in front of the students."

Hamiel's sharp eyes glinted with amusement as he stroked his beard, clearly savoring the opportunity to tease her.

"Feeling shy, are we?" he asked with mock curiosity. "Why hide it? The students have the right to know what their esteemed teachers got up to during their own Academy days.

Shall I regale them with tales of you and your friend sneaking into my home to steal my children?

Or perhaps the one where you and your Master were caught pilfering food from the cafeteria? Of course," he added with a sly grin, "your Master still steals from the cafeteria to this day, so it seems some habits never change. Surely you're doing the same?"

Mia's composed demeanor faltered ever so slightly, her fidgeting betraying her discomfort as she tried to maintain professionalism.

"I do not, For your information, and I suggest you leave, Teacher Hamiel." she replied firmly, her voice still neutral but carrying a hint of exasperation.

Hamiel raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he leaned slightly closer. "What are you going to do? Kick me out of my own Weapon Hall simply because I spoke the truth?"

As the two teachers engaged in their playful yet sharp exchange, the faint sound of footsteps interrupted them.

Both Mia and Hamiel turned toward the source.

It was Ashok—his hands casually stuffed into his pockets while a smirk on his face, as he now stood directly before the two teachers.