Reborn With A Technology System In A Fantasy World-Chapter 42: Roomie

Adrian let his mind drift, focusing on the Tech Core.

’Why no quest completion?’ he wondered. ’I passed the trials and secured a spot. Shouldn’t that count?’

The system’s silence was frustrating, but he pushed it aside, centering himself. ’Maybe the coordinator’s address triggers it,’ he thought, grasping for patience.

Minutes ticked by and the hall slowly filled as other fighters trickled in — winners from other units most likely.

After almost an hour had passed, the door swung open once more and a robed woman stepped onto the stage.

Her presence was commanding and her eyes were sharp as they swept over the nineteen knights.

Adrian straightened and his focus was directed onto her.

"Welcome to the Zarion Academy," the woman said. "You nineteen stand here because you fought for it. Through sweat, skill, and grit. You’re knights now, not just hopefuls. But this is no victory lap. The academy is a forge, and you’re the raw iron. We’ll shape you into something extraordinary, or you’ll break under the hammer. Either way, you’ve chosen a path few can walk."

A soft ping interrupted Adrian’s thoughts, the Tech Core’s interface flashing:

[Quest Completed: Secure a Spot in the Zarion Academy]

[New Feature Unlocked: System Factory]

Adrian’s pulse quickened, as he itched to explore the feature, but the speech held him.

’Later,’ he decided, forcing his attention back.

"You’re here to become more than fighters. You’ll hone your bodies, sharpen your minds, and learn what it means to be a knight of Zarion. The trials were your first step — a test of raw potential. What comes next will demand everything: discipline, courage, and trust in those who fight beside you."

It was clear that this was only for Knights. The mage-track students, with their spell-focused trials, were likely getting their own briefing.

This group was pure steel and sweat, and Adrian’s gun, though an outlier still earned him a spot. ’I’m a knight by their rules,’ he thought, ’but I’m carving my own path.’

The woman’s tone grew serious. "Your first year lays the foundation. Tomorrow, you’ll be split into squads for training. You’ll spar, study tactics, and learn to move as one. Your instructors will push you past your limits, and I expect you to rise to it. Fall short, and you’re out." She paused, letting the warning settle. "Any questions?"

A girl with a bow, her quiver still strapped to her back, raised a hand. "When do we start Ascension training?"

"Good question. You’ll begin your Ascension after we’ve gauged your strengths and weaknesses. It’s not a race. Control is your first lesson."

The girl nodded and her posture relaxed. Adrian wasn’t too interested in this Ascension, but a thought still found its way into his mind. What if he could Ascend... With the gun being the basis?

His thoughts were interrupted when another boy spoke up.

"When do we fight?"

"Tomorrow. You’ll start with fundamentals — stance, grip, endurance. Sparring would follow. Bring your weapons; we’ll supply standard gear if yours doesn’t hold up."

Her gaze flicked to Adrian, a glance that only those who underwent their trials with him understood."All weapons must prove their place in training."

’Hmm. So the news must have reached her ears,’ Adrian mused. ’I hope it’s nothing serious.’

The woman continued. "You’re not rivals anymore. You’re a unit; knights bound by the academy’s crest. Your squad will be your strength and your shield.

Learn to rely on them, because alone, you’ll falter. The trials were your entry; thriving here is your true challenge."

The words landed like a vow, and even the spear boy’s grin almost dimmed, his eyes thoughtful.

She raised a hand. "Dorm assignments are posted outside. Find your room, eat in the cafeteria, and rest. Tomorrow begins at dawn. Make it count."

With a nod, she turned and walked off the stage, the door closing behind her with a soft thud. The hall burst into chatter, the students’ tension unraveling like a cut rope.

Kids stood, some stretching, others clustering to swap stories. The spear boy was already at the center of a group, his laugh cutting through the noise as he made jokes upon jokes.

The students began drifting toward the door, drawn by the promise of dorms and food. Adrian followed, keeping his distance.

Outside, a stone board listed the assignments.

Room 6 - Adrian, Karl

A note clarified the setup — six rooms, three students each, except the last with two. ’Room 6,’ he thought, relieved.

’Two people means more space.’ He headed to the dorms, the stone buildings looming in the dusk.

The room was bigger than Adrian imagined: two beds, a desk, and ample space.

One bed was empty while the other was claimed — gear strewn across it, including a familiar spear.

Adrian’s stomach sank. ’Him,’ he thought with light irritation.

He didn’t care about who his roommate was, but the spear boy was the last person he wanted. He was just too nosy and loud.

’At least it’s not three,’ he consoled himself, dropping his bag on the empty bed. More space was a small win, but the boy’s chatter would test his patience.

The door swung open, and the spear boy strode in.

"Well, look at that... Roomies!" he said, tossing a leather pouch onto his bed. "Gotta say, I’m impressed. You’re gonna be fun to live with, I can tell."

Adrian kept his expression neutral. "Let’s keep it quiet, alright?"

The boy laughed, flopping onto his bed. "Sure, sure. Name’s Karl, by the way. Figured we’re stuck together, might as well know each other."

"Adrian," he said, unpacking some stuff from the bag he carried.

Karl’s eyes lingered on the gun, but he didn’t push, just kicked off his boots and stretched.

"Big day tomorrow," he said with his hands behind his head. "Squads, drills, all that. Bet you’ll wipe the floor with that your weapon. What’s the plan now?"

Adrian ignored the bait before keeping his bag. "Sleep’s the plan. You should try it."

"Alright, I’ll shut up. For now," he climbed his bed afterwards. "I’ll be getting some rest, roomie. Wake me up for dinner just in case I oversleep."

Adrian ignored him and focused on his plans. The sun was slowly dipping below the horizon and the room would soon grow dimmer.

’No real lighting,’ Adrian thought with a frown. ’When it’s dark, this place’ll be a cave.’

He didn’t like the idea of fumbling in shadows or using candles and flame torches either. ’Time to fix that.’

Karl was already deep in sleep, his loud snoring exposing that.

Adrian was thankful for the quiet, before opening up his [Inventory] to keep his Mana Gun, and then retrieving some inventions.

He selected four Mana Bulbs, small glass spheres etched with runes, each powered by a tiny 1-Star Magic Crystal.

They were simple but effective, designed to emit steady, adjustable light without the flicker of torches, and way better than the battery-powered bulbs others had access to from him.

Moving quietly, Adrian stood on the desk to reach the ceiling’s corners. Using a small tool from his kit, he fixed a Mana Bulb to each wall.

’Perfect,’ he murmured, dialing their intensity low with a click. The room was then filled with a soft, warm glow, just enough to see clearly without glaring.

’Better,’ he thought, stepping down.

His eyes flicked to the window again before he pulled out two Mana Fans from his [Inventory] — another upgrade from the battery-driven swords he had made.

They followed the same principle as his other fan, but their conduits were designed to be powered by Magic Crystals, giving them a stronger airflow than his standard fans.

He mounted one near the window to pull in fresh air, and the other opposite to circulate it. A quick adjustment brought them to life, and a gentle breeze sweeping through the room.

’That’s more like it,’ he thought, the cool air making his body feel more alive.

Adrian wasn’t done. He didn’t like the table placed in the room. He retrieved a more compact and tailored desk and chair, with cushions for comfort, before storing away the original in his [Inventory].

Adrian stepped back when he was done, admiring his work. ’Home, for now,’ he thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

He was about to settle down when a clear bell rang outside, signaling dinner in the cafeteria.

His stomach growled, but his first instinct was to head out alone. Karl, still snoring on his bed wasn’t his problem to handle.

’Let him sleep,’ he thought. But a flicker of guilt stopped him.

’Fine,’ Adrian muttered, deciding to do the guy a small favor. ’Just this once.’

He stepped to Karl’s bed, nudging his shoulder.

"Hey, dinner’s ready. Get up."

Karl’s snoring didn’t falter, making Adrian to tap him harder. After not getting any response again, Adrian’s patience thinned and he slapped Karl’s cheek, not hard but sharp enough to sting.

But he still didn’t stir. ’What the—?’ Adrian slapped him again, then a third time, each hit a little firmer.

Karl’s eyes soon shot open, his body jerking upright as he yelped, "Ow! What the—why’d you do that?!"

He rubbed his cheek, glaring at Adrian, his voice a mix of shock and indignation. "I said wake me, not beat me!"

"You’re welcome," Adrian said, his tone dry as he turned toward the door. He had no interest in babysitting Karl’s dramatics.

Karl scrambled to his feet, still muttering, "Rude, man, just rude—"

But his words where soon cut off when his gaze darted across the room after being exposed to the cool breeze.

"WHAT. THE. HELL?!"