The S Classes That I Raised Characters Novels & Stories

The girl showed a pained expression, as if she was thinking about something not out. Cadell Marcus sat down and spoke seriously. "This classmate, let me tell you something you don't need to be afraid of. It's best to be mentally prepared." The girl closed her mouth and did not speak, but nodded towards Cadell Marcus. "That boyfriend you made is not a human being, but an Evil Devil. You were entangled by him, so your consciousness is a bit vague. His body should be right here in the morgue." Cadell Marcus said with a serious face.

With my severe lack of sleep, it was really hard for me to stay awake during such a boring class. Can you believe the teacher was just teaching us addition and subtraction? I will be 18 soon, not 8. But we are still learning the elementary school curriculum so far. Our class is what is a so-called special class. Most of my classmates are werewolves with mental deficiencies, or mute like me, or deaf and dumb like Carolina. Carolina and I had previously studied in normal classes. However, out of jealousy, Abby asked Luna to put us in special classes. She said that dumb people are as defective as mentally handicapped people. We should not be studying in a normal class with normal werewolves.

Sandra had finally dragged herself upright, hair a wild tangle, watching the whole scene with the bleary disinterest of someone who hadn't fully committed to being awake yet. "Mine's already done," she said, not bothering to hide a yawn. "Class D. Which honestly sounds like exactly the kind of chaos I deserve." I looked down at the link, some small, unfamiliar nervousness settling in my chest, and tapped it before I could talk myself into overthinking something this simple. The screen shifted, letters resolving out of a soft shimmer of light. CLASS A "Well?" Bree asked, leaning over to look before I'd even said anything. "Class A."

Dad is my homeroom teacher. He loves using me to assert his authority. He firmly believes that the more I suffer, the more the other students will fear him, which, in turn, gives him more authority. When I help my classmate pass an eraser to their friend, Dad slaps me in front of everyone until my face is swollen. When I sneak a bite of my friend's leftover chips after class is over, he drags me to the podium and pokes my lips with needles until I'm bleeding profusely. Later, the school's head of discipline, Mary Milner, catches a pair of students dating on school grounds. Dad insists that I'm one of the culprits. He doesn't even give me a chance to defend myself and drags me to the hallwa

“Nice meeting you, Niusa. But could you tell us about that green book?” “Oh,” she showed them the book. “This one? This is called the first-class grimoire. Every basic spell will be written here.” “Where can we get that?” Niusa was surprised again. “I thought you didn’t have this since your magic is far advanced. You could be at the S-Class.” Malaika’s forehead creased. “S-Class?” “It means senior class. They are the ones having missions to neutralize any threats lingering in Axum. They had to complete a certain number of missions to graduate. And once they graduate, they’d choose which elite army unit to be assigned,” Niusa explained.

Flanking him were two others — arms crossed, grinning like wolves. Whispers rose again, this time louder, more anxious “That’s Lucien Roenthal.” “He’s Class S too. The Fireborn Prodigy from the Western Province.” Lucien stepped forward, slow and deliberate. “Hope you enjoyed the attention,” he said, his tone smooth but venomous. “Because now you’re in Class S. And in Class S…” He leaned in slightly. “…nobodies like you get crushed.” Silence fell like a guillotine. No one moved. Dozens of eyes were locked on them now—watching, waiting.

I smiled at their compliments, they were just as I remembered them. Class Eight was full of misfits and illegitimate children, though most of them were from rich families. From Class One to Four were the intelligent Students, Class Five and Six were the students who had come in through special admission like sports, while class Seven and Eight were for the dumb, unintelligent and crazy students, with Class Eight being the worst.

“You're an S-class alpha, I'm B-class with nearly an A-class power. If we indeed get married you can easily get me pregnant if you choose to. Besides, with the resources available to Stanton, is there any fertility condition we can't handle. Admit it, you just don't like me. I don't know what about me you find so undesirable.” I lowered my face, shame coloring my skin red. And that was the problem. She was eating up the lie I fed the public about myself and thinking it was a fact. The truth was that I'm not an S-class alpha. I'm a C-class alpha pretending to be S-class, and I've been doing everything to protect this secret and keep others from finding out.

“Its power signature… it’s not A-Class anymore. It’s breached S-Class.” I glanced at him. His face was pale under the grime, his knuckles white on the hilt of his sword. I’d never seen him look truly scared before. Wary, yes. Cautious. This was different. This was the look of a man reading his own obituary. “An A-Class Instance spawning an S-Class boss?” Marcus rumbled, his tactical vest creaking as he shifted his weight. “Statistically anomalous. Catastrophically so.”

They laid me out before Roxanne like a dead fish. I wanted to ask her why she had to destroy me this way. She spoke first. "Look at you," Roxanne said lightly. "This is how a side character is supposed to end. Don't look so surprised. I'm a player too, and I'm the heroine of this world. What gives a mere supporting character like you the nerve to steal my male leads?" So that was it. At that moment, I almost wished she hated me enough to kill me outright. I was done with this game. Done with the mission. I wanted to go home.