The coolness of the night caressed my cheeks as the aroma of coffee flooded my senses, giving me my long-awaited dose of peace on such a hectic day.
I took a small sip from my cup, watching from across the table the girl with white hair gathered into intricate braids that seemed to emit a sacred glow.
"I've been informed that someone has surpassed our scores on the aptitude test," I remarked calmly. "Furthermore, a 'heretic' has mocked you by demonstrating affinity for all the elements and reaching the Grand Master threshold despite being the same age as us."
Obviously, I already knew the answer, but testing her stance never hurts.
No matter how close we are, I can't leave any loose ends in my kingdom: with the Church secretly abducting semi-heroes while greeting me with a benevolent smile, and certain nobles whom I keep under surveillance for belonging to that group of madmen, Ash Stage. Having a Saint on my side could be as much a curse as a blessing.
The Saint took a sip of tea before turning her attention to me, with her usual imperturbable smile.
"I don't care about that sort of thing," she replied calmly, resting her chin in her hands. "Shouldn't 'the crown prince' be upset about being knocked off his pedestal?"
"Haha, I admit it surprised me a little at first, but at the end of the day, what matters is that it benefits the kingdom," I said, looking away toward my hot drink.
The Saint let out a little chuckle at my minor act of evasion, a reaction that stood in stark contrast to her deep eyes, which never stopped scrutinizing me.
"Honest as ever, Marc. You don't need to be so tense in my presence," she said, and her words sent a slight shiver down my spine.
And that's why I hate her. The last time I let my guard down around you, it cost me more than I'd care to remember.
"You're so funny, Aria," I laughed with a touch of caution, trying to hide the nervousness in my words. "We don't want a goddess to appear out of nowhere and sever the bond with my soldiers with a single stroke of her sword, do we?"
"That's not up to me, and you know it," she said, her gaze fixed on the church in the distance and her brow slightly furrowed.
I slowly followed the direction of her gaze, looking at the cathedral in the distance before shaking my head.
"Don't even think about it," I interjected before she could launch a political attack against the Church. "I know what they're doing, but my hands are tied… and yours even more so."
Aria's golden eyes returned to me, a hint of disbelief in her gaze.
"Aren't you going to do anything?" she asked solemnly.
I took a sip of coffee to calm my emotions as I reflected on just how dangerous that question could be in her hands.
"It's not that I don't want to intervene, Aria," I said after a few seconds, setting the cracked cup down on the table, the liquid staining my white gloves. "It's just that my father and my older sister are incompetent and demand proof for everything. If it were up to me, the heads of my enemies would be hanging at the entrance to the capital."
***
I was finishing my meditation session on the bed in my room.
The clinking of the anti-magic chains echoed throughout the room, completely enveloping my body in the jet-black sheen of polished metal, like a shimmering cocoon beneath the faint rays of the sun.
I slowly opened my eyes, letting the sunlight illuminate my dark pupils.
"Today marks the start of my life as an extra at the academy," I remarked, shattering the chains with a muffled burst. "If I play my cards right, I might just graduate as the slacker who was overshadowed by the heroes of his generation."
I paused in front of the mirror on the wooden desk, adjusting my new uniform with quick movements.
I stepped out of the room the academy had provided me, officially beginning my journey as an NPC in this drama.
Everything is going perfectly. In public, I'm the mediocre one of the Ironheart family, but when the curtain rises… the enigmatic character appears, thwarting the main cast's plans with a magnificent performance as the mastermind behind the plot.
Oh, I can catch the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from the chimneys, the moldy walls of the dark alleys mingling with the metallic scent rising from the depths of the church, as well as the bustling streets of the lively kingdom of Ashvor.
The ideal setting to go unnoticed.
I greeted my new best friend, Alain de Vermont. Like any supporting character, I need a friend who doesn't stand out at all, but who isn't completely mediocre either; and, last but not least, he has to be a complete nobody compared to everyone else.
"Good morning, Vikir," he replied, leaning on my shoulders. "I hope you remember our bet."
"Yeah, yeah, let me mentally prepare myself," I said in a tired voice.
The bet was simple… or so I thought before I saw a sophomore lying on the floor. Whether he's alive or dead is a mystery.
Standing in front of him was the academy's crimson empress, the quintessential bloodsucker, and, at the same time, the most dangerous student on campus: Morgana Le Fay.
I took a deep breath, making sure no one was near us.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
I'd heard all sorts of things about this incident on my path to becoming the Phantom of the Opera, so, obviously, I have a contingency plan to maintain my cover.
Morgana's menacing violet eyes bore into me, sending chills down my spine and preventing me from holding her gaze for more than half a second.
I pulled out a crumpled letter—which nearly fell out of my pocket—while trying in vain to focus on her majestic face.
"I… I…! T-this is for you… please, take it!" I stammered, beads of sweat trickling down my forehead.
The girl looked at me for a few seconds, as if she were observing a pitiful ant in the middle of the road.
"You're so weak," she said, leaving me standing there in front of the battered body of the sophomore, tears streaming down my face.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her figure disappear between the buildings, before I wiped away my tears using mana from my water attribute.
Alain emerged from the bushes, observing my sad and pitiful state and ignoring the big guy lying on the ground.
"Come on, let's go, Vikir. If it's any consolation, she rejected me too… and slammed me into a wall…" His voice trailed off as he recounted what had happened. Wait, why were you the only one she didn't hit out of everyone who confessed their feelings to her?
"Maybe she was in a hurry," I replied as I tucked the rejected letter into my pocket.
I started walking toward the entrance, crossing the steaming lawn of the academy, blending into the crowd.
"But think about it, Vikir. "The upperclassmen tried to haze her in a specific area of the academy," he whispered. "I've heard that place is closed until further notice."
I brought my hand to my chest with a melancholy expression, slightly wrinkling my uniform.
"Don't talk to me about her," I said in a broken voice. "Can't you see that the love of my life just rejected me?"
I entered the training ground, ignoring my friend's apologies. The actors had already gathered in the surrounding stands, flooding the place with a massive tide of murmurs that lashed at the atmosphere.
Little by little, I blended into the crowd, picking up the invisible sound waves that scanned us at every moment.
This is thrilling. At last I can perfectly play my dual-life role, worthy of the one who will weave the best story ever told. If disappearing were that simple, the script would lose 90% of its theatrical charm, just like the genius behind all those memorable choreographies.
My attention focused on the man who appeared in the blink of an eye in the middle of the combat arena; his green eyes scrutinized the dozens of students intently through his reading glasses, maintaining a firm, upright posture—undoubtedly that of an experienced actor.
"Hello, everyone. My name is Leo Nightshade," he said, adjusting his glasses before continuing. "For the next three years, I'll be your combat and tactics instructor."
Calmly, he pulled a small book from his pants pocket.
"Society has spoiled you too much by giving you advantages others can only dream of, but within this institution, things are very different from what you've experienced so far." "One-on-one combat without special abilities," he said, hanging a golden medallion from his waist. "Anyone who fails to take it from me will be expelled from the academy."
The murmurs from the stands faded away, replaced by a deathly silence that cast a grayish shadow over the scene, spreading among those present.
An extra rose from his seat and floated toward the arena with a confident smile on his lips.
"I just have to defeat you, right?" he asked, landing in front of the man.
Leo nodded slightly, without taking his eyes off his book, building up enough aura for an uneven fight.
The young man placed his hands on the stage floor, reciting a long incantation as he channeled a large amount of water and wind mana into the arena, causing slight tremors throughout the venue.
"I'm so jealous… I wish I could access the ice element too," Alain remarked, exhaling a puff of cold air as he examined the blue hue that dominated the combat arena.
"Aren't your skills better suited to this kind of thing?" I asked, without taking my eyes off the fight.
"Yeah, but… you know, the results will make me less popular with the girls," he said, adding unnecessary drama to the situation.
The protagonist remained on the battlefield, completely unfazed by the violent blizzard swirling around him.
He frowned as he spotted a skeletal hand trying to snatch the medallion from him, while the snow fogged up his glasses.
He calmly adjusted his goggles, letting the icy storm evaporate with a sharp crack.
The extra was lying on the floor. Apparently, his mana reserves had been completely depleted, causing him to collapse with a thud. I expected nothing less from the main character of this place.
"Hero Asmodeus dal Blackwood, disqualified for unauthorized use of a unique ability," he snapped his fingers, activating the teleportation circle located beneath the arena.
***
I turned my attention back to the book, ignoring the whispers coming from the upper rows of seats.
The true potential of heroes and semi-heroes has declined by 17% so far this year. Society feeds their egos uncontrollably, which unconsciously leads them to develop "prodigy syndrome."
A truly special person should not view their unique ability as the means to ensure victory, but rather as an option that may become unworkable the moment their opponent discovers its activation condition.
It seems the next student has entered the arena; I hope this one doesn't make me waste more time than I'm allowed.
My field of vision was covered in ash, through which faint, flickering flames could be glimpsed.
Forest fires: combining Fire and Plant to create a field of ash that triggers a chain reaction, cornering me at the far end of the arena… Not bad, kid.
But if that's all you've got, you'd really disappoint me.
I leaped upward, chanting the spell at high speed, combining the Wind element with the Earth element to eliminate any possible distraction from the girl.
Sandstorm!
Below, the sandstorm engulfed the arena, unleashing a long chain of explosions that shattered the ground.
I could make out the girl propelling herself forward at high speed, with faint, zigzagging flashes making her hair stand on end.
A head-on attack instead of putting distance between us. Given the conditions set by the academy, she should pass the test… That is, as long as she doesn't rush into using her ability.
She hadn't even touched the ground when I heard a wave of applause sweep through most of the stands. I didn't need to turn around to see why; the fact that she was still standing was proof that she had passed the test.
I jotted down her full name in my notebook.
"You've passed, Rin Ironheart," I said to the girl everyone was cheering for, even though none of them had taken the test yet. Next.
I fastened another medallion to my waist, waiting for the next opponent.
The next opponent seemed to have no idea what he was doing there: a hunched posture in the heat of battle, a poor use of elemental abilities, and a lack of critical thinking that made me wonder how this boy had even managed to get into the academy.
But still, for some reason, I found it impossible to let my guard down against this boy.
An unstable blue orb formed in his hands, raising the temperature of the air. Convection.
The young man bravely lunged at me, advancing with steady steps across the arena. His movements were fluid; every step among the rubble, every adjustment to stabilize his stance… even the seemingly unquenchable fire seemed to fall into harmony for a few moments.
Everything was going well, until the boy made one of the biggest mistakes anyone can make during a fight: losing his composure over a simple stumble.
The fireball passed several meters away from me, tracing a bluish parabola that quickly faded; there wasn't even a need to dodge it.
The faint clink of steel brought me back to reality.
He's an idiot, but a pretty lucky one. The chain on the medallion had melted at some point, causing it to fall from my waist.
"Vikir Ironheart," I said, adjusting my glasses.
Vikir Ironheart… I jotted down his name on the list I'd hidden inside the book.
Apparently, you pose no threat to us, but my instinct tells me there's something I'm missing. I'd better choose my options wisely if I don't want to be assigned another useless partner.