From Master Assassin to a Random Extra: OP in a Dating Sim
Chapter 60: Welcome to Class 1-A

Chapter 60: Welcome to Class 1-A

Marcus moved, planting one foot forward with deliberate precision as he hurled the sphere at Laurent. His motion was smooth—fluid—like a seasoned pitcher on the mound, arm slicing through the air with honed grace.

"Blightful Cinders!" he shouted, his voice resonating like a war cry. The runic sphere tore through the space between them, the grass beneath it splitting and curling away as if scorched by pure pressure alone. The energy howled as it flew—an ominous blend of necrotic decay and raw, combustive heat wrapped in glowing threads of volatile magic.

Laurent’s smirk deepened, and with a single, fluid motion, he spread both arms wide, the barrier blooming outward like a crystalline flower, thickening in both density and hue.

"I guess you were right..."

His voice, though calm, held a flicker of something sharper now: anticipation.

The moment the sphere made contact with the barrier, the clash was instant—not an impact, but a collision between wills. Magic met magic, power met precision, and the resulting shockwave rippled outward in concentric circles, pushing dust and air into spinning spirals.

The sphere—powered by the combined effects of three intertwined runes—did not simply crash; it pressed forward with relentless momentum, combustion at its core fueling it like a self-sustaining engine of arcane force. Sparks danced along the surface of the barrier as glowing lines of resistance flared to life, each line a desperate reinforcement against the push.

A single bead of sweat slid down Laurent’s temple.

"This is... at least S-Rank," he admitted, voice quieter now, his arms tensing as he reinforced the spell.

Gasps rippled across the courtyard. Students exchanged stunned glances—whispers rising like steam. The realization hit hard. Another S-Rank student...

A-Class students were impressive but common; the real elite were the S-Class. Names whispered in reverence—Victoria, Maria, Leon... Each a titan in their own right. And with Marcus, that number now climbed to eleven, each one a walking natural disaster.

"S-Class? Can’t say I’m surprised," Victoria said, her arms crossed, crimson eyes locked on Marcus as she stood amidst her classmates.

Her words caused a subtle shift in the 1-A formation—students stiffened, glancing at each other in disbelief. If Victoria herself acknowledged him, then Marcus Ravenfield had officially stepped into the realm of giants.

Back in the center of the courtyard, Laurent’s expression twisted into a grimace. He now gripped the barrier with both hands, fingers spread as raw magic surged down his arms into the shield. The resistance screamed under the pressure.

"Absorb!" he commanded, voice ringing with authority.

The thickened barrier rippled like liquid glass before warping inward, slowly enveloping the sphere like a maw—its inscribed runes turning in reverse as it began to siphon the mana out. The energy was consumed in glowing pulses, devoured by the headmaster’s spell like a flame swallowing oil.

The faculty behind him began to clap—polite, precise applause. Formality more than praise.

"You’re quite a troublemaker," Laurent said, dropping his arms and exhaling as the barrier flickered and vanished. He grinned at Marcus, posture relaxed again with hands on his hips.

"How in the world were you ever assigned to 4-D?"

He turned slightly, gesturing toward the now-quiet sky where the clash had occurred.

"And what’s with the runes?" he added, squinting thoughtfully at Marcus’s fading aura.

"Combustion and Necrotic... Only the Braveheart and Cromwell families have access to those."

Laurent tilted his head, eyes narrowing with sudden mischief. "What are you...? A love child from both but adopted by the Ravenhearts?"

Before he could finish, a sharp smack landed on the back of his head.

"That’s enough of that, Headmaster," Juna said coolly, stepping forward with a sigh, clearly unimpressed by his theories.

Laurent flinched, grabbing the back of his head with an exaggerated wince. "What gives, Jun?"

Juna flicked his forehead—harder this time—eliciting another pained grunt.

"Don’t call me that in public," she snapped. "Now let’s continue. We have more to reassess."

Laurent pouted like a scolded child, but straightened up, brushing off his robes and turning his focus back to Marcus with a reluctant sigh.

"Marcus Ravenfield," he declared, "reassigned to 1-A."

A beat passed. Then, clearing his throat with unnecessary drama, he called out, "Next one is Cynthia, from 4-D."

Marcus turned from the courtyard center, walking calmly toward the rest of 1-A. His stride was easy, unhurried. He passed Victoria with a grin like a man who knew exactly how much attention he’d earned.

"Hopefully that’ll wipe that confident smirk off the Prince," he said smugly.

Victoria laughed aloud and gave him a hearty punch to the chest—light but solid.

"You did all that just because you got pissed at Leon?" she asked, brow raised. "I agree he’s a bit of a creep, but that’s petty even for you."

Marcus smirked back, but before he could reply, another voice cut in.

"You two seem close."

Dwayne approached, casual but firm, placing a heavy hand on Marcus’s shoulder. He leaned in, close enough that his whisper was felt more than heard.

"You’re good at fighting and all..." he said, voice low and teasing, "...but she’s out of your league."

Marcus’s confident expression faltered—only for a second. But it was enough.

Dwayne’s tone, demeanor, even the weight of his stare—they didn’t match the aggressive delinquent he met during the Forest of Trials. No, this was someone who was actually acting like a normal teen.

Well... so much for the Forest-of-Trials delinquent act.