Reincarnated as the Only Male in an All-Girls Magic Academy!-Chapter 14: I Shall Weave The World!

The moment Ren finished analyzing the brutal achievement point conversion system and was already sketching out plans in his mind to crack it in the most efficient way possible, his student badge let out two sharp beeps.

It was almost like the academy itself was telling him, 'Alright genius, enough scheming. Time to get moving.'

A soft orange glow shimmered above the badge, and an entirely new illusionary scroll appeared, this one more organized, more structured — and definitely more stressful-looking.

At the top, in bold glowing letters, were the words: Compulsory Class Timetable.

The entire scroll looked like some devious calendar summoned from hell itself, crammed with unfamiliar class titles and strange names like Ethereal Theory and Instance Carving.

Right at the top, flashing in a blinking red pulse like an angry alarm, was the first orientation class: Introduction to the Loom.

Ren squinted at it, then chuckled. "Well, isn't that convenient," he muttered under his breath.

This was perfect. He wanted to break the system, yes, but to do that, he first needed to become capable of performing magical feats.

And there was no weaving magic without the Loom. The Loom was like the core of all magic here, the engine behind the spellcasting, the source code of this entire world's weaving system.

If there was any class that could kickstart his magical progress and help him start racking up points with real power, it was this one.

There was no need to delay it. His farming plans could wait, for now.

He tapped the location tab beside the course title and saw a mini-map project from the scroll, guiding him to a building called Thread hall B on the east wing of the Side Block.

Without wasting time, he stood up and started walking with that familiar stride of quiet confidence; not arrogant, but sure of himself.

His coat fluttered lightly behind him with every step, and his eyes gleamed with the excitement of what was to come.

The path to Thread hall B was scenic in a magical, rustic way.

Students were bustling past him, all dressed in their uniforms and looking just as eager.

Floating orbs lit up the corridors even though it was daytime.

After about five minutes of walking, he arrived at the hall. Thread hall B.

The place was packed. Not like slightly crowded — it was absolutely bursting with students.

People were standing by the walls, sitting cross-legged on the floors, and squishing shoulder-to-shoulder on long benches.

Ren's analytical brain kicked in. This room is at most a third of the size of the stadium from earlier this morning.

Why cram everyone here? Did they do this on purpose? Was it a social test? A power hierarchy experiment?

But while he was still mid-thought, his eyes scanned the room for a seat, any seat.

That's when he spotted it.

There was only one free spot in the entire space. Just one spot. A white patch of seats near the front right section.

And the reason it was free was obvious the moment he looked closer.

Sitting in the center of it was a silver-haired girl.

Long strands of pure moonlight spilled down her back like silk, shimmering faintly even in the indoor lighting.

Her eyes were a deep violet—not just purple, but the kind of violet that made you feel like you were staring into a night sky filled with stars.

She sat with perfect posture, her hands folded in her lap, and wore a scarf embroidered with gold thread that subtly hummed with runic energy unlike the other students.

Her entire presence exuded power—not flashy, not overwhelming, but calm, quiet, and terrifyingly dignified.

Ren blinked, remembering instantly. 'That's the girl that asked about me during the first briefing. The only one brave enough to question the instructor about why I was in the side block. That means...'

He paused, narrowing his gaze slightly. 'Yeah. She has to be one of those great weaver families the instructor mentioned—the kind that's been manipulating magical politics for centuries. Maybe even royalty-level. That could explain everything.'

Around her, a three-seat radius was left completely empty. Students who had arrived before him were deliberately avoiding her space like it was cursed.

Like she was a walking, breathing VIP section no one dared touch.

Ren folded his arms for a second, evaluating. His mind processed quickly — if she was from a great family, then naturally others were afraid of offending her.

If she had that kind of social weight, getting on her bad side could mean academic suicide. 'But does that mean I should avoid her too?'

He smiled.

Nah.

Instead of tiptoeing like everyone else, Ren casually made his way toward the bench and slipped into the seat directly behind her.

No big gestures. No introductions. No need to make it a spectacle. He moved with the kind of effortless ease that said, I'm not here to worship you, I'm here to learn magic. Deal with it.

As he sat down, a few students in the back noticed and immediately started whispering.

"Wait... did he just—?"

"He sat next to her?"

"Is he an idiot? Or like... suicidal?"

Ren ignored them. He wasn't being disrespectful—in fact, he gave her space and didn't speak a word.

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But his message was clear: He wasn't afraid of her family name. He wasn't here to play social games.

And most of all, he wasn't going to let anyone—even a violet-eyed goddess—get in the way of his goals.

'If she's really that special, then sitting near her might even help me learn faster,' he thought. 'If she causes explosions with her mind, then I'll dodge. Simple.'

The silver-haired girl turned her head slightly, just enough for Ren to catch her expression—a peculiar, unreadable look that wasn't quite surprise, nor irritation, nor curiosity.

Just... odd. Like her mind was processing his existence but had decided, for now, not to comment.

Her violet eyes lingered on him for a heartbeat longer than normal, then she faced forward again without a single word, as though Ren's act of sitting near her hadn't happened at all.

Not a smile. Not a glare. Not even the cold shoulder. Just... calm acceptance. It was almost eerie.

Ren blinked, arching a brow slightly. That was a whole conversation they just had without saying a thing.

But instead of overthinking it, he leaned back, relaxed, and turned his attention to the front of the room.

That's when his brows shot up.

Walking onto the stage—no, gliding like some divine being in human form—was a woman who quite literally made the entire room collectively stop breathing.

She was beautiful. Not the kind of normal beauty that people used makeup and lighting to enhance—this was the kind of beauty that made time feel like it paused just to admire her!

Her hair was a silky, flawless brown that cascaded past her shoulders like a waterfall made of warm chocolate.

Her eyes, a rich amber-brown, sparkled with depth and experience.

But the real attention-stealer was the elegant mark on her left cheek—a curling, rune-like tattoo that shimmered faintly with iridescent light, giving her the air of someone ancient, someone sacred.

She wore the same kind of robe-suit hybrid the other instructors wore—dark blue with accents of fiery orange—but the way she wore it made it look like high fashion.

Regal. Every step she took seemed calculated, graceful, yet somehow casual. Like a queen who had long grown bored of royalty but still knew how to make an entrance that left people speechless.

"Is she real?" someone whispered from the crowd.

"I think I just found my idol," another muttered.

Ren? He didn't say a word. He was too busy fantasizing. This was his kind of woman!

The woman reached the center of the platform, her presence alone enough to hush the entire room.

Then, with a simple motion, she raised her hand and conjured an orb from thin air.

It was small at first, no larger than an apple, but it pulsed with a strange rainbow light, as if it held the colors of every element and emotion in the world.

The moment the orb appeared, the lights in the room instantly dimmed, plunging everything into a moody twilight hue. Gasps echoed all around.

Then it happened.

The orb began to glow brighter, and as it did... the air changed. Literally.

A humming sensation buzzed softly against Ren's skin like static electricity—no, like invisible silk brushing across his arms.

From the center of the orb, a web of multicolored threads began to pour out, slowly at first, like mist drifting through water... then faster, until the entire front of the room was overflowing with a swirling, shifting tapestry of light.

There were millions of them!

Threads of every color imaginable; glowing blues, dancing reds, elegant silvers, deep purples, greens that shimmered like jade, and hues Ren couldn't even name all flowed out and wrapped around each other in an impossibly complex dance.

Some threads flickered like fire. Others moved in slow, deliberate curves like time itself was coiling.

They pulsed, twisted, branched, reconnected — some looping into giant clusters, others shooting out in single lines and fading into the air.

But here was the most jaw-dropping part: They were all connected. Not randomly or chaotically, but purposefully.

Every thread had meaning. Some threads were constantly shifting, jumping between new connections, altering their direction every few seconds, while others remained solid and still.

Some vibrated rapidly like sound waves. Others floated with a heaviness that reminded Ren of gravity. It wasn't just a pretty light show. It was alive.

The entire room sat frozen in stunned silence.

Then the woman finally spoke, her voice soft, calm, but resonating like music echoing inside a cathedral. "This... is the Loom."

The name alone felt sacred, like the capital letters were implied.

She took a step forward and extended her hand. "The Loom is the foundational framework of our universe. Not just this continent, not just this dimension, but the entire cosmos.

"Every law you think you understand; gravity, heat, light, time, emotion, fate, death, even luck, all of it exists because somewhere within the Loom... a thread was woven."

The room collectively leaned in.

She continued, her words flowing like a story and a spell at the same time.

"Each thread represents a force, a principle, or a concept. Some threads are ancient and unchanging; like the thread of space, or life, or death.

Others are new and still forming, like the thread of invention or emotion.

These threads interact with one another through complex weaves; knots, loops, braids, intersections.

And it is through these weaves that reality is born. That rivers flow. That fire burns. That hearts beat. That dreams form. That people fall in love."

Ren's jaw slowly dropped, but not from awe, from realization.

She wasn't just explaining magic. She was explaining the code of reality.

"The Loom does not cast spells," she said. "It writes them. Every magical phenomenon you have ever seen is merely a manipulation of a group of threads working in harmony.

And as Weavers, your purpose is simple: to learn the threads affiliated with your soul and use them to create patterns, sequences, and connections that allow you to bend reality itself.

You are not reciting incantations. You are crafting the laws."

Ren's mind practically exploded. 'Wait. Wait. Hold on. Are you saying... if I understand the threads, and I understand how they connect... then I can literally weave lightning into water? Or slow down time? Or link fire to gravity? Or even—'

His eyes flared wide open as a deeper truth clicked. He could do all these because he was literally affiliated to all the threads!

'I could create concepts. I could manipulate cause and effect. I could weave the thread of pain into someone's shadow. I could tie the thread of victory to my heartbeat. I could even—'

His brain was practically bouncing off the walls of his skull with excitement.

'This is... this is everything. This is control over reality itself.'

A grin slowly crept onto his face. Not the smug grin of someone who had a slight edge—but the wicked grin of a scientist who had just discovered a hidden control panel behind the universe's curtain!

Around him, students were still hypnotized by the glowing display, but Ren's gaze wasn't on the threads anymore.

It was on his hands. He flexed his fingers slowly and whispered under his breath.

"I'm going to learn how to weave the world..."

And he meant every word.