Mysterious Class Novels & Stories

As I listened to the news anchor's report, I could not help but think there was some truth to the saying that after the storm is when the flowers bloomed. When did I start getting suspicious of Vonn and his crew? Oh, right. It was after I handed over $15,000 to some dude claiming to be Vonn's ex. The more I mulled it over, the more things did not add up. I headed to the police station to share my suspicions. I thought they would laugh me off, but boy, was I in for a surprise. It turned out there had been a string of killings in town, and all the victims were rich, bachelor types living alone.

TESSA Lunar Instincts. The class everyone dreaded because it was said to be the “real deal” of werewolf studies. If you compare it to another subject, it would be Differential Geometry, because it requires great instinct, as seen in the subject title itself, to be able to answer hypothetical questions. I was determined today. I wouldn't let Zaria burrow her presence into my mind. So, instead of arriving early, I disappeared into the sea of students like a regular, functional wolf.

The class did not exist. I sat there with my coffee going cold in my hand and looked at the empty search results and thought about the way he had given me that class name. No hesitation, no searching for it, smooth and immediate. Not the hesitation of someone making something up. The fluency of someone who had prepared the answer in advance. Which meant he had known I would ask. I put the coffee down, opened a new tab, and typed CC Coin.

A clean, contained thing. I looked at the boy arranging marshmallows into a pattern only he understood. I looked at the man sitting quietly across from me, one thumb tracing the rim of his mug. I took a sip of the hot chocolate, warm and slightly too sweet and exactly right, and understood, for the first time since stepping off that plane, that the thing I had been escaping toward had already shifted into something I hadn't planned for at all. I wasn't sure yet whether that was frightening or the opposite of it. The storm outside showed no sign of stopping.

Cassie said with disdain "Nah it's okay, I have you guys now, right?" "So about the history class I have a question, the story was kinda interesting, about the history of Wales" I said starting a topic "You mean the Wales homicide?" Brian asked "The homicide that happened years ago?" Cassie asked almost at the same time with Brian's "Yeah, about the supernatural beings behind the homicide and stuff" I don't know why I think the story is interesting and I wanted to know more. "That is some total bullshit myth the people of wales decided to believe, you know my grand dad was a mayor then, and he make sure to catch the culprit and locked him up in prison, and according to him he is a psychopath

Professor Morsa's face was still quite pale and mentally tired. Professor Morsa is the one who teaches the subject Of Werewolf Magic Analysis. Because they hadn't received new books and modules, Hana, Henry, and Jackson didn't carry any items. Even so, Professor Morsa didn't say a word to them until the end of the session. They don't know how Sir. Powen convinced Professor Morsa, but he hadn't accepted Hana, Henry, and Jackson's presence in the class. The first class at D.Ruck ended in boredom and frustration.

He strolled to the board, pausing mid-step to glance over the class. “This won’t be the class where you learn fireballs or teleportation,” he said. “If that’s what you want, you’re in the wrong room.” Silence. “Good. Because this is the class that will make you dangerous.” He turned back to the board and scrawled three words in elegant, sweeping letters: The Arcane Veins. Then, facing them again—his grin wicked, eyes alight with manic curiosity—he said, “Let’s begin with the source of all magic…”

“I am, but I’m more–more than that. My dad–just give me a second.” He lets go of my hands. I bring them to my face, closing my eyes against the room and trying to piece together what I saw. “Why did you ask about the attack in Aurorium?” he asks, his voice cool and steady but tinged with concern I can taste. I feel bad for him. Mystics are rare outside of Moonrise–at least, well-developed, trained mystics like myself. But even then, only witches with specific powers or shifters with acute senses of smell would be able to pick them out of a crowd. I’m different. I’m something else in the same magical class. There’re only three of us that we know of. Me, my dad, and my grandma Sarah. My great-

*Sharmaine's POV The competition had only started a few minutes, so there was no tension. What I'm looking forward to is seeing the transformation maze. People watch this round not just to see players fight each other but to learn about the mystery of the Mystical Maze. I had heard of Mystical Maze before, but I hadn't had a chance to see pictures or information about it. Mystical Maze is considered a military secret of the Dark Moon Pack. This place makes other Packs tremble with fear and curiosity, so images or information about Mystical Maze are never disclosed to other Packs.

I'm determined to make him open his eyes and realize that the world is full of colors and that not everything is monotone. Before I know it, it's the final class of the day, Magical Enhancement. It also seems to be the only class that I am struggling with. I share the lesson with Aphelion, but without him here, I'm too self-conscious to try and practice any of my unique magic skills.