Reincarnated as the Only Male in an All-Girls Magic Academy!-Chapter 23: Choosing A Weapon!

The morning sun had barely begun to peek through the high, clear windows of the dormitory when Ren stirred from his bed with a grin stretched across his face like a kid on his birthday.

It was one of those rare, perfectly blissful wake-ups; the kind where you don't immediately remember your problems or your responsibilities, just the warmth of the sheets and the lingering dream of victory.

For a moment, he just lay there, watching the faint light dance across the walls, breathing in the scent of clean linen and delicious breakfast bread wafting from the canteen down the street.

Then, with a slow turn of his head, he saw Lia curled up like a sleeping cat on her bed across the room, one hand over her mouth and the other lazily dangling off the side.

She looked peaceful... and totally unaware of the way her towel fiasco had practically rewritten the script for the most hilarious moment of Ren's year.

He snorted to himself, barely suppressing the urge to cackle.

"She's never gonna live that down," he muttered under his breath, the corner of his lips twitching upward in wicked amusement.

But he wasn't so evil that he'd wake her up just to laugh again. He moved like a whisper, slipping out of bed and tiptoeing toward the private washroom.

A quick splash of water, a mental checklist of the day's tasks, and a sharp, focused gleam returned to his eyes.

Today wasn't just another day. No, today was one of the most critical steps in his plan to stomp Mirabella's smug face into the ground in two weeks' time.

It was Weapon Day!

See, Ren wasn't like most of the rookies here.

The average prospective would excitedly rush to Rune Lane first, eager to carve the first magical marking into their body and feel like they were finally becoming someone important.

But that was a rookie mistake, the kind of short-sighted blunder that could cripple a person's entire growth path before it even began.

Ren had done his homework. He understood that a rune was not just a magical tattoo; it was a foundational system of power, one that amplified the user's natural talents and was amplified in return by the weapon they wielded.

If someone blindly chose a strength-based rune and then found that the only weapon they were remotely compatible with was a rapier or a bow, well, good luck swinging that pebble-slinger like a warhammer!

That's why Ren would go to the Weapon Lane first.

His logic was simple: find a weapon that naturally suited him. A weapon that felt like an extension of his body. Something that required minimal adjustment, and could be wielded with immediate results.

Once he had that, then he would stroll into the Rune Lane and find the perfect rune to match that weapon.

That was efficiency. That was intelligence. That was, well, him.

After putting on his uniform, Ren exited his dorm. He made sure to walk lightly, leaving Lia to her beauty sleep and towel-based nightmares.

The side block was already buzzing with life. This massive wing of the academy campus was almost like a city of its own.

Students streamed through the clean streets, talking excitedly and flashing badges of various rankings.

The side block was a place where you could find everything: weapon halls, rune chambers, training towers, even forbidden archives if you knew which wall to knock on.

Ren walked with the ease of someone who'd already memorized the layout from top to bottom.

It didn't take long for him to reach Weapon Lane. It was a street lined on both sides with tall, elegant buildings, each one marked with a unique metallic plaque above the door.

Swords, axes, spears, bows, and more exotic symbols glinted in the morning sun.

Dozens of students were already entering and exiting, some with long boxes in hand and triumphant smiles on their faces, others clearly more confused as they carried strange-shaped weapons like they were holding unfamiliar animals.

Ren stopped in front of the first building. Its plaque was plain: a simple circle with a single vertical line running through it.

"No nonsense. I like that." He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The air within was cool and slightly dusty, like an old library that hadn't seen sunlight in a decade.

Rows and rows of weapon racks stretched into the distance, each glowing faintly as if whispering their potential to any who dared touch them.

Before he could even take another step, a glowing ball of grey light floated toward him. It was about the size of a basketball, hovering with a gentle hum and radiating a rather gloomy aura.

"Welcome, sir," the ball said in a slow, slightly depressing voice that made Ren wonder if the spirit had been rejected by a hundred customers in a row. "Are you here to browse our weapons?"

Ren gave a respectful nod. "Yup. I'm looking for something versatile. Not too rigid, but still packs a punch when needed. Preferably something that lets me experiment with style as I go."

The spirit hovered silently for a moment, like it was judging his taste. "Ah... a flexible thinker. You're either going to be very talented or very dead."

Ren raised an eyebrow. "Hopefully not both."

The spirit pulsed with faint amusement. "Follow me."

It floated ahead into the deeper chambers of the building, passing by weapon after weapon, some encased in glass, others displayed openly on pedestals.

Ren kept pace, eyes darting across the inventory. Spears with humming edges, chainblades that shimmered like liquid metal, short swords with jagged hilts and glowing cores.

It was like a candy store for death enthusiasts, and Ren was a kid with a sweet tooth.

The grey spirit hummed as it floated deeper into the building, gliding past a half-dozen shimmering doors until one finally opened with a low hiss, revealing a vast, cathedral-like hall that looked like something straight out of a weapon collector's fever dream.

The ceiling was high and vaulted, disappearing into shadows that flickered with magical light. Racks of gleaming weapons stretched down the entire length of the chamber, organized into neatly divided sections.

Swords, spears, axes, bows, whips, chains, staves, and all manner of strange hybrids; each one displayed with reverence, glowing with enchantments that whispered of bloodshed and glory.

Ren's eyes lit up. He took a deep breath, catching the sharp metallic tang in the air, and grinned. "Okay. This... is more like it."

The spirit drifted toward a glowing platform on the far left side of the hall, entering a section labeled: Unique-Class Hybrids and Multi-Talent Weapons.

The sign pulsed with faint violet light, and the aura surrounding the entire area was thick with mana. These were not your average beginner sticks. These were weapons with personality.

"These five," the spirit began solemnly, "are the most promising fits for your request: versatile, yet able to pack considerable force. But none of them are simple. Handle them with care."

The first weapon floated forward from its pedestal and hovered in the air before Ren. It was a twin-edged glaive that could split down the center into dual short sabers.

"Item: [Moonfang Crescent Glaive]

Pros: Can shift between two sabers or form a long-range polearm. High mobility, excellent for reactive fighting styles.

Cons: Requires high dexterity and balance. Not ideal for brute force strikes.

Enchantment: Moon Echo – Stores kinetic energy and releases a second delayed strike with every fourth blow."

Ren twirled the glaive and tested a few movements. It was light in his hands, smooth to spin, and almost too nimble.

"Hm... It's cool, but it kinda feels like I'm swinging an elegant dinner knife." He spun it once, clicked it back into saber mode, and returned it. "Not bad... but not me."

The spirit moved on without comment.

The second weapon was a segmented whip-blade made of interlocking, rune-etched metal plates. It gleamed faintly with electric blue lines.

"Item: [Stormcoil Viperwhip]

Pros: High range, difficult to predict. Can entangle and disarm enemies. Great utility in crowd combat.

Cons: Learning curve is steep. Backlash damage possible if mishandled.

Enchantment: Voltic Surge – Builds electrical charge with each successful hit, unleashing a chained lightning effect every fifth strike."

Ren gave it a flick. The weapon slithered and snapped with a sound like a thunderclap. It coiled around a distant dummy and zapped it hard enough to make its wooden arms flail.

"Whoa! Okay, this thing's spicy," Ren laughed. "But if I sneezed mid-swing, I'd probably electrocute myself. Next."

At this stage, scientific analysis wouldn't be his main focus for choosing the weapon. He was simply acting based on instinct.

The third weapon was far more grounded: a heavy, rectangular broadsword with a handle set dead center and a trigger mechanism near the hilt.

"Item: [Breaker's Maw]

Pros: Devastating frontal power. Triggered blasts can shatter shields. Perfect for brute force encounters.

Cons: Extremely heavy. Slow recovery. Not suited for agile fighters.

Enchantment: Shatterpulse – Fires a shockwave forward every time the user channels energy through the hilt."

Ren grunted just holding the thing. He lifted it once and it felt like he was swinging a brick tied to a refrigerator.

When he activated the enchantment, it blasted the floor so hard it flew off his hand, but Ren nearly dislocated his shoulder doing it.

"Okay, yeah, I could use this if I suddenly morphed into a gorilla. Not happening."

The spirit then summoned a fourth weapon—a pair of curved throwing sickles attached to threaded wires.

"Item: [Widow's Arc]

Pros: Excellent control over mid-range. Can bind, slash, or return mid-air. Perfect for multi-angle combat.

Cons: Requires precise energy threading. Best results only with advanced training.

Enchantment: Thread Recall – Automatically rewinds thrown blades toward user's hand after striking."

Ren tested one. The flight was beautiful. The sickle curved mid-air and spun like a boomerang. But something felt off. There was too much finesse but not enough punch.

The fifth weapon was the one that made Ren pause slightly. A double-ended staff with spring-loaded blades on each side. It was agile, fluid, and hit surprisingly hard.

"Item: [Phantom Prowler Staff]

Pros: Switches between staff and dual daggers. Excellent for defense and acrobatic styles.

Cons: Not ideal for brute engagements. Lacks raw impact.

Enchantment: Phase Slip – Grants brief phasing movement during chained combos."

Ren tested it with a series of flips and strikes. It felt decent. Not bad at all. But as he stood there twirling it in his hands, the smile faded from his face.

"I don't hate it... but it's not the one," he said at last, sighing.

"You felt some resonance, yet you hesitate," the spirit observed.

"Exactly. I want to feel it in my bones. I want the weapon to scream that it was made for me. This one just... whispers politely."

Ren turned slightly, getting ready to move to the next building, when something caught his eye.

There, resting on a crimson pedestal tucked away in a darker corner, was a weapon unlike anything else in the hall.

It wasn't glowing. It wasn't grand. But it had presence. A dangerous one. The weapon was a massive heavy Kisarigama—a terrifying hybrid of scythe and spiked club.

The sickle blade was wide and curved like a crimson crescent moon, jagged and malicious, with dried-red veins etched into the metal.

Even from the distance, Ren could feel the absolute terror the weapon was craving to unleash.

"That is the Bloodthirsty. It's our oldest weapon till date."

Ren smiled.

Hell yeah!