The morning breeze seeped through the half-open windows of my bedroom, gently caressing my dazzling hair.
I rubbed my eyes wearily, constantly fighting the urge to go back to bed for five more minutes.
When I looked in the mirror, I nearly had a heart attack: my skin was extremely pale, which made my dark circles stand out, and my hair was a total mess.
This is a nightmare...
If my fans saw me like this, there'd be a real uproar at the academy. It's all because of that noisy incident last night.
"Think, Rin, think. Ah, I know!"
I started rummaging through my things in search of the spellbook they'd handed out to us at the academy, setting the mess aside for the moment; that wasn't what mattered right now.
I brushed the dust off the tanned leather of the gigantic book before skipping the unnecessary explanations.
"Let's see, if I combine Light and Yang, I can activate the Sacred Elixir or the Healing of Souls, depending on how it's used…," I muttered to myself, dropping the book onto the bed.
I began the fusion, reciting the written words as I manifested the Yang element in one hand and Light in the other, creating a glowing circle beneath my feet.
It took me several attempts to temporarily stabilize the Yang element during the fusion.
My hair was even more disheveled than when I started, and my face was covered in dust from the various explosions that had occurred over the past few minutes.
I clenched my teeth with determination, refusing to let a mere spell dare to deny my absolute beauty.
"Sacred Elixir!"
The long-awaited light finally enveloped me, fixing my hideous face in a fraction of a second, before I collapsed onto the bed, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Ha… Beauty has triumphed."
Several hours passed before I finally left the room.
On my way to the academy, I ran into some friends, and we started chatting about various things, as I put aside my worries about the incident that had destroyed half the capital.
"By the way, Rin, did you hear what happened last night? It was incredible—I could see his elegant figure moving gracefully in the moonlight…" My friend started blushing as if she were talking about the love of her life. "B-but that's not the point! Even though his face was covered, there's no doubt that his true identity must be that of a first-class charmer."
"I agree with Teresa on that; I couldn't take my eyes off him either until the very last second," Alice commented.
"Hmm, are you saying he's better-looking than me?" I asked, shooting a suspicious glance at the traitor.
"No!" they replied with suspicious speed.
"W-we're running late; we have to hurry," Teresa reminded us, looking for any excuse to avoid meeting my gaze.
I shook my head at my friends' brazen audacity.
Near the hallways, I caught a glimpse of the familiar figure of my mediocre brother lost in the crowd.
Should I ask his opinion? Does he also think that mysterious man is more handsome than me? What if he says yes?
Hmm, knowing how clueless he is, he probably hasn't even gotten out of bed yet, thinking this whole thing is nothing more than a light show.
I decided to call out to him anyway; I want to know his opinion, even if it's based solely on the rumors circulating around the academy.
"Excuse me, Rin Ironheart, could you spare a moment?"
I narrowed my eyes at the newcomer blocking my path.
His well-groomed dark blue hair gave off a soothing floral scent, and his imperial gold eyes contrasted with his polished silver ceremonial armor; Prince Marc, one of my biggest rivals for the title of the academy's goddess.
"There's no need to be so suspicious," he said, flashing a friendly smile. "Do you already know where you'll go after you graduate?"
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"I haven't thought about it yet, but if I had to choose the most appealing option, perhaps the Tower of Magic," I replied in a neutral tone, crossing my arms—not believing for a second that was the only reason he'd come. "Why do you ask?"
"It's because I have a good eye for recognizing capable people. If you haven't made up your mind in the next three years, you can join my order of knights; we'll welcome you with open arms," he said, pulling an invitation card from his pocket and handing it to me.
I stared at him, keeping my hands still in response to the prince's gesture.
I could sense a faint trace of an unknown magic peeking out from beneath his sleeve, which sent a slight shiver down my spine.
"It was just a joke," he said, his expression not changing in the slightest in the face of my obvious rejection, as he bent down to place the card on the ground. "But the invitation still stands; take your time."
I stood silently in the hallway for a few seconds, recalling the feeling of disgust that black thing had caused me as it nimbly crawled up Marc's sleeves.
It wasn't until I was certain it was out of sight that I picked up the little note. For now, I have no intention of joining the kingdom's knights, but it might come in handy someday.
***
I turned the doorknob and stepped into the bustling classroom. placement exam, the number of students had dropped from just over a hundred to fourteen, which makes my life as an extra a little more complicated.
I made my way to my seat at the back of the classroom; it's not as if I could ask the principal to readmit them just to keep my supporting role.
I sat down by the window with satisfaction, listening to the various murmurs of the students.
"Did you see what happened last night, Vikir?" whispered my friend Alain, who was sitting next to me, glancing around warily. "Don't tell anyone, but I snuck out onto campus after the academy's curfew, and you can't imagine what you missed. There was an incredibly beautiful goddess in the sky… She was even more beautiful than Morgana and Rin combined."
"Didn't you say you'd never fall in love again after Morgana rejected you for the umpteenth time?" I asked, glancing at the obvious bruise on his forehead.
Alain touched his forehead, unable to help but wince as he rubbed the affected area.
"All's fair in love and war; don't let today's rejection affect your confession tomorrow."
The murmurs fell silent with the sharp sound of the door swinging wide open, followed by the rhythmic tap-tap of heels on the concrete floor.
It was, without a doubt, the entrance of an important figure stepping onto the stage to dazzle the world with her dreamlike performance.
The curious gazes of the entire class fell upon the figure standing in front of the blackboard: she was a woman in her twenties with an almost sickly pallor, whose long black hair cascaded down her back like a dark waterfall.
Her sunken eyes swept across the classroom, reflecting a weary gaze, and she wore a gothic outfit of eternal mourning that gave the impression she had just arrived from a funeral.
"Good morning, everyone," her kind voice echoed off the classroom walls as she carefully arranged the books on her desk. "My name is Vespera Vane, and I'm your teacher of magical theory and ancient history. It's a pleasure to meet you all."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alain staring at the teacher so intently that it seemed as if he were piercing her soul. He was so absorbed that he hadn't noticed his drool soaking his notebook.
I moved my notebook to the side opposite his seat, unable to help but notice another student in a similar situation… No, this one looked like he was about to jump out of his desk at any moment.
Ah, so they, too, had realized she was an important figure. Not bad, but! It took them exactly 4.07 seconds longer than it should have. "Diamonds in the rough" would be the ideal way to describe them.
Vespera tilted her head slightly, watching as the entire class focused its attention on her, while the smile on her lips grew even wider.
"It looks like everyone's here now, so let's not waste any more time," she said, opening one of the books on the table under the students' watchful gaze. "Today we'll study the consequences of casting a magical fusion incorrectly."
She combined two elements in a spell that was incomprehensible to most people; the elements used were Light and Yin, fusing them into a new spell.
Behind her, an intricate circle formed, scattering a shower of feathers that enveloped those present in a silent whirlwind.
“Divine Illusion.”
The area was plunged into darkness in an instant. The scene lasted a few seconds amid a profound solitude that seemed to have neither beginning nor end.
Before I could say anything, the scene shifted to a desolate battlefield.
Countless smoking bodies lay scattered in various piles of decomposing corpses.
We were floating above the sands of death. I tried to touch the edges of the invisible ground, testing the solidity of the illusion, but a massive earthquake shook the field the moment my hand made contact with it.
"That shouldn't have happened," Vespera murmured thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes slightly as she looked at the bewildered students.
"Miss Vespera, am I to assume we're in danger?" asked Marc, holding up a luxurious pendant he wore around his neck that seemed to contain some spell engraved in the center.
"No need," she said, waving her hand to repair the small crack in the barrier.
I shoved my hands into my pockets to avoid causing another commotion that might give me away.
"Hey, Vikir, Miss Vespera is looking this way. Do you think she likes me?" Alain whispered.
"Probably," I replied, feeling as if someone were scanning me from head to toe, as if looking for something specific.
Professor Vespera tucked her hair behind her ear and turned her gaze back to the battlefield.
She snapped her fingers, triggering another earthquake, but unlike the previous one, this one only affected the illusion beneath it.
"This story dates back three hundred years. The kingdom of Ashvar was embroiled in a fierce war with a now-extinct cult that was lost amid the ashes of the fallen," she recounted in a solemn voice.
The clash of swords and the howls of pain filled the arena: charred limbs, severed heads, and violent shockwaves sweeping away the remains of the corpses, causing some students to feel nauseous.
"At that time, the relentless battles between the opposing sides had claimed the lives of many soldiers who now rest in a special section of the royal museum," she said with a slight hint of emotion as the thunderous battle raged on. "The dreamlike melody of the Grim Reaper echoed in the ears of the squads."
Point-blank bombardments scarred the battlefield, leaving enormous craters in the earth and pieces of clothing that the strong gales swept far away.
The fighting continued day after day, with no end in sight. The number of warriors had dwindled to critical levels compared to the battalions that had once covered the entire plain; now, only a few thousand soldiers remained amid the ashes.
Some had lost limbs, others had run out of mana, and some were even crawling with a fierce look in their eyes.
Professor Vespera pointed to a spot among the students.
"Morgana, do you remember how the war ended?" she asked.
The crimson-haired actress took a firm step forward, under the fearful gaze of several students who kept their distance as she passed.
Her violet eyes watched the fierce battle between the leaders, who were reshaping the landscape with every exchange of blows.
"The enemy leader fell under his own attack," she replied, casting a disdainful glance at the opposing side.
"That's just the surface," Vespera remarked, revealing purple stains hidden beneath the enemy leader's suit. Do you still underestimate them?"
A girl in an elegant white dress walked barefoot among the main cast.
She covered her mouth with her hands as she stared at the large, visible purple marks that radiated a murky, malevolent energy.
"The blood of the forgotten…," Aria murmured solemnly.
Vespera's smile widened as she turned toward the bewildered Saint, as if she had expected that reaction all along.
"Why?! How could anyone have gotten their hands on that filthy blood that was thought to have been lost for eons?!" she shouted, losing her composure for the first time since arriving at the academy.
"Why? That's a matter we'll address another time, but for now…" She snapped her fingers, recreating the intense battle. "Let's continue with the explanation."
The fierce combat seemed to be reaching its climax; the rival leaders were gasping for breath as sweat dripped from their foreheads.
They seemed to have reached a tacit agreement to end the long-standing dispute between the factions, channeling their most powerful attacks into strong gusts of wind that warped the very fabric of space.
Under the astonished gaze of the monarch from three hundred years ago, his attack hadn't even materialized when the enemy leader was disintegrated by his own spell.
He had barely uttered the first rhyme when his mana channels became blocked, interrupting the spell midway.
"To scholars, it is the subconscious manifestation of a spell from a forgotten era; to the general public, it was a battle led by a reckless general; but to the curious who are not satisfied with uncertain information, it is proof of a betrayal," the professor explained.