WOLF ACADEMY: BEHIND THE HEIR'S COLD EYES (ENGLISH VERSION)

C.1

"WHAT IS YOUR RANK?" The question was cold, sharp-spoken by the elderly woman who stood as the principal of Wolf Academy. Her eyes, as piercing as a wolf's fangs, bore into Sheya as if dissecting every fiber of her being-every movement, every breath, every flicker of her gaze.

"P-pardon?" Sheya stammered, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths. She didn't know how to answer at first.

"What kind of wolf are you?" the principal repeated, her tone firmer this time, void of sympathy.

"O... Omega," Sheya whispered, her voice trembling. The word itself weighed heavily on her, pressing her lower into the ground-as if speaking her rank aloud reduced her existence. The lowest of the low, the outcast among wolves. In that moment, she felt even smaller beneath the woman's sharp gaze.

"You may enter."

The principal's voice was flat, dismissive, as if Sheya's presence carried no more weight than the air in the room. She tossed something onto the desk-a small key with a tag attached.

Sheya froze. Her eyes widened. She's... accepting me? The thought barely made sense in her head.

"E-excuse me? You mean... I'm starting today?" Her voice was a mix of disbelief and nervous hope. She had never expected to be admitted so easily-especially as an Omega, a rank despised and discarded by many.

"Do you not want it?" The principal's tone sharpened, tinged with mockery. She stretched out her hand as if to take the key back.

Sheya reacted in an instant. Almost running, she snatched the key before it could be reclaimed. Clutching it tightly to her chest, she whispered, "Thank you!" and bowed slightly in respect. Her other hand gripped her small, battered suitcase-filled with only a few clothes and belongings, everything she owned.

"My right hand will accompany you, show you the grounds, and explain the rules of this Academy," the principal added coolly, her voice already distant, as though Sheya was no longer worth her attention.

From the side, a man in his forties stepped forward-the principal's assistant. His stance was firm, his presence radiating authority.

"That key you're holding," he said, his eyes fixed firmly on hers, "is for your dormitory. Guard it well. In this school, even the smallest things carry meaning."

Sheya nodded, her fingers trembling as they clung to the key. In her mind, it wasn't just metal and plastic-it was hope. It was a chance. A new beginning.

"This way," the assistant said curtly, pushing the office door open before striding out.

Sheya hurried after him, her heart hammering against her chest. Each step echoed across the polished floor, and with it came the weight of eyes from every corner-some whispering behind hands, others staring outright, measuring her, judging her, waiting for her to falter.

Her thoughts drifted back to the words she had heard in her village: "Don't go there... once you enter, you'll never come out."

Her grip on her suitcase and the dormitory key tightened. She knew the world she was stepping into was dangerous, merciless. But inside her heart, she felt the fire of something greater-this was the beginning of her fight. Not only for herself, but for everyone like her.

"This isn't just about being an Omega," she whispered to herself. "This is my chance to change my life... to break the chains of tradition that have crushed us for generations. The low-born will not always bow their heads."

And in her chest, she sealed her vow:

"The day will come when we are no longer called weak. We will no longer be trampled. I will be the beginning of that change."

They stepped out of the office. The assistant's stride was brisk and unwavering, his silence sharp, leaving Sheya nearly scrambling to keep up while dragging her suitcase along. The sound of her shoes echoed loudly against the polished marble floor, each step pounding in rhythm with the heavy thud of her heart-as if every beat mirrored the weight of the world she was about to enter.

She could feel eyes watching her from every corner. A few students passing by whispered among themselves, mocking or doubting her presence. Others stared directly-cold, calculating, as though measuring how long she would last in this place.

"The first thing you must understand," the assistant finally broke the silence, his voice cool and unyielding, "Wolf Academy is no ordinary school. You're not here simply to study lessons. You're here to learn how to survive."

Sheya blinked, struggling to grasp the meaning. Survive? What exactly did that mean in Wolf Academy?

"Here, discipline, strength, and skill are tested-especially for those of lower rank, like you," he added, glancing at her briefly, as though weighing her chances of enduring the burden of his words.

Sheya tightened her grip on the key in her hand, holding back the rising tremor in her chest.

Suddenly, the assistant stopped in the middle of the hallway. He raised his hand and tossed something into the air. Sheya's eyes flickered in surprise, but before she could think, her body reacted instinctively-her hands shot out, catching it before it hit the marble floor.

An ID card.

It bore no name, no picture. The transparent plastic was blank, hollow like an empty vessel. Only the lanyard stood out-gray, faded, almost silver yet dull, stripped of any shine.

"Wear it," the assistant ordered coldly.

Sheya hesitated. For such a small thing, it suddenly felt unbearably heavy in her hand, as though it carried more than plastic and thread. Slowly, she slipped it over her head. The cold card landed against her chest, pressing down on her heart like an invisible weight.

Her brows furrowed. "Why is it empty?" she whispered, almost afraid to ask.

"Because you have proven nothing," the assistant replied flatly, his tone void of sympathy.

They continued down the long, gleaming hallway, their footsteps echoing in steady rhythm. From the corners, students lingered-some standing, some seated-casting sideways glances at Sheya. A few made no effort to hide the scorn in their eyes, a silent reminder of her place in the Academy's hierarchy.

"Now, you must understand the matter of ranks," the assistant continued, his voice cutting like steel. "Wolf Academy is divided according to each student's standing within the pack. Your rank dictates how others will treat you-in class, in training, even in something as simple as walking these halls."

The assistant halted for a moment and raised his hand, as though counting off each rank before her.

"First, the Alpha. Their lanyard is black-a symbol of power and leadership. The son of King Arlael is the only Alpha currently studying here. When the time comes, he will be crowned the new King of the tribe. If you cross paths with him, you are bound to show respect."

At the mention of the Alpha, several students immediately turned their heads-chests lifted, stances firm. Some bowed slightly in acknowledgment of the rank; others simply watched in silence, their very presence radiating the Alpha's authority across the hall.

Since the day she was born, Sheya had never once seen the face of King Arlael's son. She had no idea what kind of wolf he was. All she knew was that as the future Alpha, he might be as fierce and cunning as his father-and instead of seeking friendship, she would have to keep her distance.

"Second, the Synod-the Betas. Their lanyard is red. They stand close to the Alpha and have the authority to command those beneath them. Never defy their orders."

A Beta blocked their path for a moment. Broad-shouldered and sharp-eyed, he gave a small bow before offering Sheya a slight smile-not cruel, yet heavy with the reminder of his station. To Sheya, that simple smile felt like a warning: Don't expect anything from us.

"Third, the Gamma. Their lanyard is blue. They are the strategists-the brains of the tribe-advisors to the Alpha and the Synod."

Two Gammas stood by the hallway, books and tablets in hand. Silent, yet keen-eyed, they observed Sheya as though analyzing every movement, every twitch of her body. Sheya could feel the weight of their intellectual presence-not as overt as the Beta's dominance, but far more dangerous in their schemes and calculations.

"Next, the Delta. Their lanyard is green. They are the support rank-the healers, researchers, and backbone of the tribe."

A young man and woman, both Deltas, passed by her. They offered a quick nod in greeting-not heavy on the heart of an Omega, yet enough to acknowledge the hierarchy. Sheya noticed how every gesture of the Deltas carried a sense of cooperation, of purpose-not for show, but for service. A quiet power, yet essential to the tribe.

"Then, the Commons. Their lanyard is white. They are ordinary students, with no distinct rank or remarkable ability. They may choose their path, but more often, they remain in the middle."

Many Commons whispered to one another as they looked at her, their gazes laced with doubt or indifference. Some rummaged through their bags, as if reassuring themselves she posed no threat, no power in this place. To Sheya, it felt as though every Common said the same thing: You are neither impressive nor important.

"And at the very bottom... the Omega. Their lanyard is gray. They are the ones often ordered around, belittled, destined only to obey," the assistant explained, his eyes settling briefly on Sheya. Other Omegas in the hallway glanced her way as if quietly recognizing their shared rank.

The moment some students noticed her gray lanyard, Sheya's chest tightened with shame. All around, students paused to stare-Betas raising their brows, Gammas smirking, Deltas smiling faintly, Commons whispering amongst themselves. She could almost feel the weight of the Academy pressing down on her, as though the entire school declared: You are nothing but the lowest.

Her chest constricted with fear. Yet beneath the ridicule and doubt, a flame burned fiercely in her eyes.

"An Omega now... but not forever."

She whispered the words under her breath, her gaze sweeping across the students that passed-Betas, Gammas, Deltas, Commons. Deep in her heart, she knew: no matter how high their ranks stood, she could prove herself. She could rise above the tribe.

After explaining the ranks, the assistant began to take Sheya on a tour around Wolf Academy.

"First, the Music Hall. This is where the Betas and Gammas often perform during special occasions," the assistant explained as they walked through the wide, airy room. Instruments lined the space-piano, guitars, violins, and percussion. Posters of past performances hung proudly on the walls, reminders of the talent and brilliance each rank contributed.

"May I also play here?" Sheya asked, her voice trembling with a mix of nerves and excitement.

"That depends on your rank," the assistant replied coldly. "Omegas are rarely allowed inside, and most of the time, you'll need permission from a Gamma or Delta to use the instruments."

"Really? That's a shame... I actually love playing the flute," Sheya muttered with a pout, practically drooling at the thought of touching an instrument even just once.

Next, they entered the Library, a towering and quiet place surrounded by shelves of ancient books. "This is where you will learn the depth of our traditions," the assistant said as he gestured to the vast space. "Many Gammas and Deltas spend their time reading and researching here. But you need to be careful with your choices-not every book is easily accessible to Omegas."

"Ah... I understand," Sheya answered, clutching her gray lanyard tightly. "But even as an Omega, I can still learn, right?"

"If you show discipline and respect, then yes," the assistant replied, his expression completely void of a smile.

"What if they still refuse, even if I'm nice?" she asked softly, glancing at him.

"Then... there's nothing you can do," he answered bluntly, with the faintest teasing smirk, as if to remind her: here, not everything goes your way.

Sheya only pouted, the weight of the system pressing down on her.

They approached the Training Grounds, a massive arena echoing with the sound of strikes, shouts, and the thundering clash of energy. Sheya instinctively gripped the railing, eyes wide as she marveled at the sight-students intensely training, every movement heavy with determination and raw power.

"This is the Training Ground. Here, everyone's strength is tested," the assistant explained. "The Alpha dominates, the Beta defends, the Gamma and Delta provide strategy and support. And the Omegas..." He paused, his gaze flickering toward Sheya. "...you are the lowest. So tread carefully with every step."

Sheya bowed her head, clutching her gray lanyard tightly. "Yes... I understand," she whispered.

"But... what about the Commons? What's their role here?" she asked suddenly, realizing he hadn't mentioned them.

"Commons?" The assistant stopped to think for a moment. "Snack runners for those in training," he answered, chuckling lightly before walking off again.

"Ah? Lucky them..." Sheya murmured under her breath, a small smile tugging at her lips, easing some of the heaviness inside her. She quickly followed after him, her heart swirling with fear, unease, and a hint of excitement.

"This is the Science Lab," the assistant said, opening the door to a spacious room filled with equipment and chemicals. "This is where the Deltas and Gammas conduct their experiments. Omegas may assist, but you are not allowed to lead or make decisions."

"I think I'd like to learn here too," Sheya said, her voice soft but her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"You may listen," the assistant replied, his tone serious as he fixed his gaze on her, "but do not meddle with the projects of others. Discipline and respect for the hierarchy are paramount here."

"This is the-" He began to introduce the next place, but suddenly cut himself off.

"AVR Room!" the assistant announced enthusiastically, pointing at the door ahead.

"It's used for lectures, simulations, and presentations," he explained as they stepped inside a room packed with modern facilities. "This is where coordination among the ranks happens, which means respect for hierarchy is critical. Everyone has a duty. Everyone has limits."

"Yes," Sheya answered, her voice heavy with the weight of the system. The gray lanyard around her neck suddenly felt heavier than ever.

"This one? I know this place! The Gymnasium!" Sheya exclaimed cheerfully when they arrived, her chest lightening just a little.

"Correct. Everyone trains here," the assistant replied. "The Alpha and Beta dominate, easily noticed through their strength and discipline. The Gamma and Delta focus on technique and strategy. As for the Omegas... just observe. Learn from your surroundings before stepping in."

"And... what about the Commons this time?" Sheya asked, realizing again he had skipped them.

"Food delivery," the assistant answered flatly before walking away, leaving her behind.

"Sounds like they've got it easy," Sheya muttered with a faint grin, though the undertone of frustration and longing lingered in her voice.

"This is the Medical Clinic. If you have wounds or illnesses, this is where you'll go. The Deltas take care of all the ranks, but Omegas aren't easily allowed inside without permission," the assistant explained.

"Yes, I understand," Sheya replied, hesitant but aware of the need for discipline.

"This is the Cafeteria of Wolf Academy."

"Wow! It's so big and spacious," Sheya exclaimed in awe, watching the mix of ranks eating and talking together.

"Everyone eats here, but each rank has its own place. Betas on the right, Gammas next to them, Deltas in the center, Commons on the left, and Omegas at the farthest side," the assistant explained, pointing in the distance.

"Why is our seating area so far away?" Sheya frowned, her displeasure evident. "Wait, where's the Alpha's table?" she asked, clearly curious.

"The son of King Arlael doesn't usually linger here," the assistant answered curtly.

"Eh?" Sheya raised her eyebrow. Well, makes sense. He's an Alpha. He must have a dining table all to himself, with no need to share. She muttered silently to herself.

"This is the Office of Teachers and Non-Teaching Staff."

Sheya saw the busyness of the offices-teachers and staff preoccupied with their work, each with their own world at their desks and telephones.

"The Alpha and Synod have direct access here. Omegas must ask for permission," the assistant explained. "Here you'll see how vast the Academy's operations are-it's not just about strength, but about discipline, knowledge, and respect."

"There seems to be so much to remember," she whispered softly, almost only to herself.

"There are no shortcuts here," the assistant replied, watching her every step.

Sheya's lips tightened in slight annoyance. Inside, she felt a rush of anger and frustration. The discrimination against Omegas was overwhelming. Everything required permission. Even going to the restroom-would that also need the Alpha's approval? She didn't say it aloud, but the tension in her body revealed her thoughts.

She forced herself to straighten her posture and tightened her grip on her ID lanyard, accepting the weight of the world she had entered.

"Maybe... this is just how it is for all Omegas," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling faintly. But I won't be an Omega forever. There must be a way to change this. One day, I'll prove myself-that no matter the rank, I can succeed.

The assistant, seemingly oblivious to Sheya's faint scowl, continued the tour without pause. "Come, I'll show you your dormitory and some of the main facilities before we finish," he said coldly, his tone unchanged despite the tension radiating from Sheya's body.

She followed in silence, her eyes tracing every corner of the Academy. Every marble floor, every grand arch and statue along the halls seemed to remind her of how vast and hierarchical this world was. She could feel the weight of discrimination even before her classes began. Simply walking down the hallway felt like a careful dance-each step had to align with what was demanded of her rank.

When they reached another hallway, the assistant stopped to explain the facilities. Sheya's gaze wandered up to the high ceilings and the intricate designs carved into the walls. At the far end stood a massive door engraved with the emblem of the Alpha-a proud wolf's head raised high, exuding authority and a heaviness that pressed upon anyone who passed by. Two Commons stood guard outside, their posture rigid yet betraying their lower rank, ready to greet whoever entered or exited.

Just then, two students arrived. The Commons nearly bowed in deference as the pair approached. Even though Sheya could only see their backs, she felt at once that their presence was anything but ordinary.

One of them, a man, stood out from everyone she had seen so far. Broad-shouldered, his stance radiated strength, and every step he took carried authority and power. Unlike the others, he wore no lace-and because of that, Sheya couldn't immediately place his rank. His companion, however, was clearly a Beta, marked by the red lace at his neck and the aura of control that clung to him.

"A Beta..." Sheya whispered under her breath, her heartbeat quickening.

The Commons guarding the door opened it wide, allowing them to pass through without so much as a glance backward. Every movement they made seemed anchored in the hierarchy-each gesture, each look, laced with meaning.

Sheya froze for a moment. She didn't understand why, but she felt the crushing weight of the aura from the man without the lace. Cold, dangerous, and far from ordinary. Her body instinctively went on alert; every sound, every shift of movement felt sharper in her senses. Was he a Beta too, like his companion? Or perhaps... something higher?

"Ahem!" The assistant's loud clearing of his throat snapped her back to reality.

Startled, Sheya nearly flinched, squeezing her eyes shut for a second before rushing to catch up to him. Clutching her luggage tightly in one hand and the dormitory key in the other, she could feel the heaviness of the moment pressing down on her. The presence of those higher in rank was no small matter-it tested every step, every gesture, demanding she prove her ability to adapt and show respect.

And yet, despite the nerves, there was a faint spark in her eyes-a hidden determination that refused to be extinguished. She may be an Omega, but she knew there had to be a way to prove herself in this world of hierarchy and discrimination.