Today’s class had come to an end. I gathered my things to leave the classroom, with the feeling that someone or something was watching me from a distance.
It’s not that I’m worried my cover will be blown; for that to happen, they’d have to overcome not only the anti-magic chains that block any kind of rigorous inspection requiring mana, but also my own magical interference, which would be activated if the chains were broken.
Though I don’t mean to brag, you could say I’m one of the hardest students to detect at this academy.
I was completely lost in my thoughts, paying no attention to the students chatting animatedly in the hallways.
A sudden, sharp blow made me stop in my tracks, snapping me out of my reverie as I saw the injured figure on the floor.
He was a young man of about sixteen or seventeen, which suggested he belonged to the upper grades, given his dark blue uniform with gold embroidery on the sides, rather than the standard uniform worn by newcomers.
“Are you okay?” I asked, holding out a hand to help him up.
I felt a sharp tug on the collar of one of his classmates.
“Do you think you’re so funny that you go around shoving the young gentleman?” His words trailed off as they came into contact with my anti-magic chains.
He loosened his grip and leaped back a few meters while the boy gasped for air.
Classmate B took over when he saw his friend’s pitiful state, grabbing me again by the collar of my tracksuit.
“So you dare to talk back, huh?” The scene repeated itself as soon as he tightened his grip on my tracksuit. “Waaa!”
He took a few faltering steps backward, a look of caution and bewilderment in his eyes.
I adjusted the collar of my jacket, trying to settle this as quickly as possible so as not to attract the attention of passersby.
The guy lying on the ground clenched his teeth, but, unlike his companions, he kept his distance, a few meters away.
“I’ll spare your life if you kneel before me and swear allegiance,” he said with a confident smile spreading across his face.
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, considering you bumped into me too, don’t you think?” I remarked calmly, brushing the dust off my white uniform.
“You…! Don’t get too big for your britches, commoner! Do you know who my father is?” he roared, his excitement mounting as he looked at his two companions, who had already recovered. “Let’s start over: kneel before me or face the consequences.”
“Or else what?” asked a mysterious voice from behind him.
“Or else, I’ll make sure you have nowhere to go back to,” the boy replied, paying no attention to the voice that had just spoken.
The temperature in the hallways seemed to have plummeted; the atmosphere was thick with unease. I could almost hear a pin drop between us.
The character noticed the pale expressions on his companions’ faces; they seemed to have fallen silent as they pointed behind him.
He swallowed unconsciously, turning stiffly and widening his eyes just as a strand of red hair entered his field of vision.
“M-M-Morgana, what brings you here?” he stammered in a trembling voice as he hid behind Assistant A.
The protagonist crossed her arms and looked at him with a gaze that seemed to freeze the blood of everyone present.
She took a step toward us, causing the extras to take a few steps back.
“Get out of here,” she ordered in a low tone that was, at the same time, so deep it seeped into the minds of those present like an echo imbued with a threat as sharp as a celestial-grade sword that would slit their throats.
The three offered no resistance and ran off in the opposite direction from the girl, not daring to look back.
I, of course, was no exception; I tried to slip out of his line of sight before he grabbed me by the collar for the third time that day. Apparently, that greeting has become something of a trend among the students.
“You stay,” declared the redhead.
Page three, section seven of the Phantom of the Opera handbook: if a protagonist blocks your path—and only yours—turn his words and actions into your own escape route.
My eyes began to wander nervously from his custom uniform, adorned with crimson runes, to his face—which would be a resounding success if anyone saw us in this situation.
After a few seconds, I was finally able to look her in the eyes. She seems pretty furious; I don’t know who’s made her so angry, but she can’t hide her flushed cheeks, which looked like a volcano about to erupt.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
I could feel the hand gripping my neck trembling, which was a clear sign that she was planning to beat me up to vent her stress.
I covered my face with my arms like a good “Mob,” hoping she wouldn’t leave my face so swollen that it would draw more attention than necessary.
“I accept your proposal,” she said calmly, but with eyes so full of rage that I couldn’t hold her gaze for more than two seconds.
“Proposal?” I asked, with a bad feeling about all this.
“The proposal… You know, what you told me yesterday under the tree!” he said, blushing as he shoved me to the ground before crossing his arms. “So, starting today, we’re… That’s it!”
I got up from the ground with a slight wince of pain as I leaned against the nearby wall.
It’s a resounding no. Something I, of course, only dared to say in my thoughts.
“I like someone else,” I replied in a desperate attempt to divert her attention, hoping that the long-awaited supporting character would burst onto the scene, just as happens in these kinds of clichés.
“Are you rejecting me?” she asked with a withering glare as she drummed her fingers on her arms.
“No, ma’am,” I said, sharpening my senses to find that damn supporting character who wasn’t doing his job at that moment.
“Well, that’s what we are,” she concluded with a slight stutter in her words, as she spun around at full speed. “Don’t forget: if anyone asks you, you’ll tell them… You know what it is, don’t make me repeat it!”
I stood frozen in place, watching the redheaded protagonist disappear down the hallways.
The revelation hit me like a thunderclap echoing off the walls of my mind in zigzagging vibrations.
I had to swallow my words as I glanced sideways at the small sensors installed in the corners of the walls, which were constantly scanning for any kind of anomaly in the surroundings.
I smoothed out the wrinkled part of my uniform and gathered my school supplies before leaving the gigantic school with my usual bored expression.
On the way, I paid special attention to the bustling surroundings, since I’d just learned a hard lesson a few moments ago.
I saw an elegant butler pass by me, though I could have sworn I felt his disdainful gaze for a few moments… It doesn’t matter right now, so for the time being, I’ll just consider him an NPC who arrived late to the scene.
I exhaled a puff of cold air and pushed open the wooden door, which let out a metallic squeak from its hinges.
“Welcome, my lord,” the brown-haired girl greeted me, narrowing her amber eyes as she returned my greeting with a small wave of her hand.
“I hope your levels haven’t stagnated since the last time we met,” I said, picking up a glass of spiced wine I’d left on the table precisely for an occasion like this. “Desislava has already shown signs of improvement; don’t disappoint me.”
“We wouldn’t dare, my lord!” she replied with a slight curtsy.
Very well, Seraphine. It seems you don't rely on your beauty to dazzle the audience; the purity of the mana flowing through your veins in perfect harmony creates even better special effects.
Your refined and precise movements ensure that the battle choreography isn’t interrupted by any missteps that might ruin the aesthetics.
The clarity of your vocal cords as you recite an aria in time with the music.
Hmm… If I’m not careful, the roles of director and actress might switch at the most unexpected moment.
I took an elegant sip from my glass, walking toward the window with calculated movements, drawing the girl’s fervent gaze.
“Tell the others; starting tonight, they’ll know us as the Opera of Chaos,” I remarked solemnly as the moonlight glided through my hair.
***
I rubbed my temples wearily as I leafed through the crumpled documents I was holding in my other hand.
How many times has this happened already? How many innocent lives must be lost before that boy gets even a shred of common sense into his head?
The door to the grand hall burst open with excessive force, hardly befitting a princess.
“What have we told you about your lack of manners, Adelaide?” I slowly opened my eyes and fixed my gaze on the girl with sky-blue hair. “And start by stopping hitting your brother so roughly.”
Adelaide threw the boy to the floor, seriously injured, staining the red carpets with his blood and a couple of teeth that landed at my feet.
I let out a weary sigh as I gazed at my carpet, once so illustrious. The blood had been cleaned off countless times so it could be placed in the entryway, which eventually faded the colors until it was left in this pitiful state.
Oh, my love. I had sworn to you that I would never remove the gift you gave me on our anniversary, but at this point I’m beginning to wonder if the seller cast some kind of curse on it that prevents it from staying in good condition.
“Guards!” I shouted. “Take him away from here!”
The guards carried it away with their usual efficiency while I clenched my fists, hoping it might still be saved.
“Now, let’s talk,” I said to the young man lying on the floor. “What happened?”
“That wretch Marc has destroyed yet another house of the high nobility!” roared Adelaida. At this rate, it won’t be long before our factions rebel against the crown!
Marc crawled across the floor, his face bruised but his gaze still defiant.
“They weren’t innocent—they were conspiring with a terrorist group!” he shouted, splattering my white walls as he clumsily stood up. Besides, I made sure their disappearance coincided with the moment when the battle in The Phantom of the Opera reached its climax.
“That’s not the problem!” exclaimed the girl as she advanced toward Marc, conjuring an aura that left deep furrows in its wake.
Young Marc swallowed hard, revealing a faint glimmer of doubt in his gaze, which had once been brave and invincible.
I set the document down on my desk and vanished from the room in an instant, while my braided gray hair left behind afterimages that zigzagged across the room.
“What are you doing, Father?” the girl asked as she was grabbed by the shoulder just before she could commit a potential murder.
“Enough is enough,” I said in a voice neither too loud to upset them nor too soft for them to take me seriously.
“No, it’s not enough,” she replied solemnly.
“Are you contradicting me?” I asked calmly.
I released my magical pressure to quickly put an end to this nonsense, before I lost my composure at the sight of my belongings being destroyed in this childish brawl.
I glanced at Adelaide, kneeling with her teeth clenched, and at young Marc, lying on the floor semi-conscious, with a frantic torrent of foam gushing from his mouth.
“Step aside,” I said before pointing at Marc. “And get him out of here—no objections.”
I waited for the two of them to leave the hall, sliding my fingers toward the hilt of my sword.
Wham!
I restrained myself so as not to alert the guards and drew a dizzying diagonal slash that split the golden throne into two equal halves.
“Kukuku, is this how you welcome me back after all this time?” the man sneered, having narrowly dodged the blow that was meant to split him in two.
I flicked my wrist to grip the sword again.
“You’re not welcome here,” I said to the excommunicated man standing before me, “Julian.”