The gates of Veridia Academy of Thread Arts rose far higher than I ever imagined.
Carved from smooth pale white stone, they were etched all over with swirling golden thread patterns that glinted bright under the morning sun. Strung along every corner and pillar, faint pale blue threads coiled tight around the entire structure—defensive wards, I guessed. Anyone foolish enough to climb without permission would likely get struck down before they even touched the wall.
Right before the main gates, crowds of girls had already gathered by the dozens.
They all looked bright and excited, chattering happily in groups, clutching their acceptance letters and ID badges. Most wore crisp white academy robes with blue trim at the sleeves—new students, probably Rank F or E. A few bore other colours: green for Rank D, red for Rank C, and standing far at the very front, one lone girl wore violet trim—Rank B.
I walked straight into the middle of their crowd.
Instantly, the whole area fell dead silent.
Every pair of eyes locked onto me. Their gazes were a mess of confusion, curiosity, disgust, and quiet giggles hidden behind hands.
"Who is that boy?"
"What's a man doing here? This is new student registration!"
"Maybe he's just dropping his sister off? But he looks so young himself."
"Hahaha… look at his face, he looks totally lost. Poor thing."
I ignored every whisper. I was used to being stared at like I didn't belong—back home I'd never had many friends, never been the kind anyone cared to notice. But here? It wasn't just being odd—I was the wrong kind of existence entirely.
I kept walking forward, straight toward the long registration tables set up beneath shaded canopies.
Behind the tables, girls worked busily checking documents and signing forms. At the head of the main table sat one girl sitting perfectly straight, poised and commanding.
She wore the same academy whites as everyone else—but her sleeve trim was pale gleaming gold.
Rank A.
Her long black hair was pulled back sharp and neat, her face fair and sharp‑jawed. Dark brown eyes sat cool and sharp, sizing up every person who stepped forward with clear, unforgiving judgement. No smile, no idle chatter—only checking papers, signing names, giving short sharp instructions in a low, firm voice.
[Character Recognized: KIRIS]
[Rank: A‑]
[Position: Head of New Student Registration, Second Year]
[Profile: One of the most talented mages of her generation. Known for absolute adherence to rules, and zero tolerance for wasted time or nonsense.]
So this was the gatekeeper I had to get past.
I stopped right in front of her desk.
Kiris didn't lift her head. Her hand kept moving steadily signing papers. "Next," she said flatly.
I stood perfectly still.
Seconds ticked by. She noticed no one spoke, and slowly lifted her gaze.
Her eyes met mine.
Immediately her brows snapped hard together. Her expression shifted—boredom to confusion, then to cold, piercing frost.
"Man," she said. Not a question—just a statement, like she'd spotted a cockroach crawling across her dinner table. "You are lost. Leave academy grounds immediately."
"I'm here to register as a new student," I told her.
Kiris went quiet. Then she gave a short, dry laugh with no humour in it at all. "Did you even hear what I said? Leave. Men are not permitted inside this academy. This is no place for you."
"Why not?" I asked.
Her scowl deepened, sharper and more impatient than before. "Have you never learned basic history? Or are men's heads truly empty? Men possess zero talent for Thread manipulation. This academy exists only for those with actual potential. You would only waste our time and a spot meant for someone worthy."
She shook her head sharply, dropping her eyes back to her stack of forms. "Go. I will not say it twice."
I stood frozen.
Deep inside my head, the System chimed in.
[WARNING: If you fail to register within 24 hours, Main Quest — Survive 30 Days — will be marked FAILED.]
[Penalty: Permanent Erasure.]
Permanent erasure. Dead. Gone forever.
So now I had exactly two choices: walk away and die, or force my way in and figure out how to stay alive.
For someone who'd spent his whole life feeling empty and bored… death itself wasn't even all that terrifying. What really burned me was dying for such a stupid reason—killed off by some garbage game system just because I couldn't get through the front gates.
Absolutely ridiculous.
I looked at Kiris, back at her work again—beautiful, yes, but colder than ice. Strict, rule‑obsessed, unbending. How was I ever supposed to convince someone like her to bend the rules?
I glanced around. Every other registration table was busy, lines still long, prefects patrolling everywhere—and all of them women. Every single one looked down on me like I was dirt beneath their shoes.
Then suddenly, everything shifted.
At the far end of the line, a small blonde girl was visibly trembling. Her hands shook violently, and thin green threads began swirling wildly all around her—spiralling out of control. She tried desperately to rein them in, but the harder she fought, the more violent and chaotic the threads thrashed.
"What's she doing?!"
"She's losing control of her Threads!"
"Get back! Keep away!"
The crowd scrambled backward in panic. Those green threads lashed out longer and sharper, striking in every direction like angry striking snakes. Even if her rank was barely F, wild untethered magic could still seriously hurt anyone standing too close.
Kiris shot instantly upright from her chair. Her right hand snapped upward—and a thick, gleaming silver thread coiled to life around her, ready to slice straight through that rogue magic.
But she was too far away.
One of those green threads—the longest, wildest, fastest—shot straight toward a tiny younger girl standing frozen and terrified barely a few feet from where I stood.
She couldn't dodge. Her eyes squeezed shut tight, bracing herself for the pain.
I didn't stop to think.
I lunged forward, yanked the frightened girl sharply behind me, and twisted my own body around—taking the full force of that strike right onto my own shoulder instead of her.
The instant that wild green thread came inches from touching my skin—
Something deep inside my chest throbbed violently.
[Blackspine responding.]
[Tension Level: 5%.]
[Anti‑Thread Property — ACTIVE.]
I didn't do anything. I didn't chant, I didn't raise a hand. I simply stood there—and watched that green thread come screaming straight at me.
Then the impossible happened.
That thread—meant to tear right through my shoulder—shuddered violently the moment it came within inches of my skin. It trembled like it was terrified, its bright vivid green fading fast to dull ashen grey, its sharp tip turning soft and limp. Then with barely a faint little pop, it simply snapped clean in half—and dissolved into fine dust drifting through the air.
Silence swallowed the whole courtyard.
I stared in shock too—I never imagined it would work like that. Blackspine was barely at 5% power, and this was already the result? It didn't even need to attack—its mere presence alone was enough to unravel and destroy normal Thread magic.
Kiris stood frozen at the head of the table, eyes wide open for the first time since I arrived. Her gaze locked exactly onto my shoulder—right where that thread had simply vanished. She'd seen everything: I never raised a finger, spoke no word, cast no spell. I just stood there.
And the magic died.
The little girl I'd shielded gasped for breath, staring up at me teary‑eyed. "Th‑thank you…"
I barely responded. My eyes stayed fixed hard on Kiris.
She stared back, brows drawn tight, full of confusion—and deep, sharp suspicion. She knew something was wrong here. She knew this man was no ordinary nobody. But she couldn't prove a single thing.
I stepped forward once more, right back to her desk.
"May I have my registration form now?" I asked evenly.
Kiris stayed silent for a very long moment. Her eyes raked over every inch of me, hunting for any sign that I was actually a Thread user. But she would never find one—I wielded no magic. I was only a vessel holding something that devoured magic itself.
At last she sank back into her chair.
No smile came. No warmth reached her face. But her hand reached out, took a blank form and a pen—and pushed them across toward me.
"Understand this clearly," she said low and icy, quiet enough only I could hear. "I am not giving you this chance out of pity. I am giving it to you because I intend to find out exactly what it is you are hiding. And if I discover you mean harm… or if you turn out to be nothing but a fraud…"
A thin silver thread flickered into existence around her fingertip, sharp and gleaming as a honed blade.
"I will sever both your hands myself before I throw you out of these gates for good."
I took the paper and pen. When my fingers brushed hers for just a second, I felt her jerk her hand sharply away—as if she'd touched something filthy and unclean.
One eyebrow lifted. "Thank you, Prefect Kiris."
She scowled sharper hearing me speak her name. "How do you know my name?"
"Name badge pinned to your uniform," I lied smoothly, already filling out the form fast. Name: Six. Age: 21. When I reached the section marked Talent Rank, I paused—and wrote simply: Not Yet Assessed.
Kiris glanced at what I wrote, then shook her head sharply. She stamped an empty student ID card with the academy seal—and handed it over.
"Your dormitory is Block E, ground floor, very last room at the end of the corridor. It was never meant for anyone—it's just an old unused storage closet. It's the only accommodation we can possibly offer… someone like you."
"Thank you," I said again.
I took the thin white card—bearing only the name SIX, and no rank listed anywhere.
[SIDE QUEST COMPLETE: Entered Veridia Academy of Thread Arts.]
[Reward: 10 System Points. Basic System Store Unlocked.]
[Main Quest Updated: Survive 30 Days as an Academy Student.]
[NEW OBJECTIVE: Keep Blackspine identity hidden. If discovered by 3+ people — Penalty: Partial Erasure (Memory Loss).]
I slipped the card safely into my pocket.
Then I lifted my head and looked out past the gates—across the sprawling academy grounds. Grand spires, beautiful gardens, and thousands upon thousands of glowing coloured threads drifting freely through the open sky.
This world belonged entirely to women. Built entirely on the power of Threads.
And me—just one man who supposedly possessed nothing at all—had just walked right inside carrying something created specifically to destroy it all.
I stepped forward through the open gates.
Behind me, I could feel Kiris's sharp watchful gaze burning straight into my back—full of questions, doubt, and deep unspoken suspicion.
Alright then. Let's see who uncovers the truth first.