Chapter 9: Good to Finally Meet You
The lecture hall was already noisy when Vincent set his chalk down.
"The final-term examinations will begin very soon."
Instant groans from every corner of the room.
"Already?!"
"I haven’t even hit Level Twenty yet—"
"I completely forgot about finals!"
Vincent looked at them with the expression of someone who had watched this reaction play out every semester for years and found it consistently accurate.
"As always, final rankings won’t depend on written tests alone. Combat prowess, field performance, teamwork..." He folded his arms. "If any of you have been slacking on your physical training, now is an excellent time to start regretting it. Fall short of the 4,000-point threshold, and you won’t step foot in the Upper Academy."
The groaning got louder.
No one wanted to fail the finals.
Beyond the borders of the Astern Empire, the world was a meat grinder. The only thing keeping the populace alive on the surface was the overwhelming force anchored above them— the Upper Academy, a floating fortress reserved strictly for the ruthless and the elite.
To reach the sky, you had to prove you belonged in it.
The corridor outside filled fast when the lecture ended.
Not far ahead, Nicholas walked with Roselle on one side and Daniel on the other. Sierra walked slightly behind them, her hand occasionally brushing Nicholas’s arm, her expression peaceful and soft.
Students in the corridor tracked him automatically.
"He’ll take first place again."
"Obviously. Who else is even close?"
Someone nearby sighed with genuine feeling. "I still remember last year. A first-year claiming Top Ranker. The whole academy lost its mind."
Nicholas had done that. In a tradition that had belonged exclusively to third and fourth years for generations, he’d walked in as a first-year and taken everything completely in front of everyone. By the end of his first year alone, he accumulated 1,200 points, something no student had ever accomplished.
Several girls appeared at the edge of the group immediately.
"Nicholas!"
"Would you like to have lunch together—"
"I made snacks this morning—"
Roselle stepped between them before the sentences finished. Her smile was polite in a way.
"I’m sorry. We already have plans."
The girls deflated all at once.
"...Again."
Nicholas leaned close to Roselle’s ear as they walked and said something quietly.
"W-WHAT!" Her face went red immediately. "Nico! I’m not jealous! I’m not—" She punched his shoulder.
Nicholas laughed, which made her flush deeper.
Alden watched from a few steps behind the group. A small, genuine smile crossed his face before he caught it.
’I wrote that dynamic.’ He looked at Nicholas’s easy laugh and Roselle trying to compose herself and failing. ’Damn that aura... That’s exactly how I pictured the protagonist while writing him.’
"Alden."
He turned.
Professor Vincent stood a few steps back, hands relaxed at his sides.
"You called for me, Professor?"
Vincent shook his head slightly. "I just wanted to wish you luck."
Alden looked at him.
"I know what the academy thinks of you right now," Vincent said. "But I prefer forming opinions based on what I observe myself." A brief pause. "I have high expectations. Don’t disappoint me."
He turned and walked back down the corridor without waiting for a response.
Alden watched him go.
The academy was filled with people who looked at him with suspicion.
But there were still two people who had chosen to believe him.
Darius.
Vincent.
He gave a small bow toward the empty corridor.
"...Thank you Professo—"
"Well." A voice appeared at his left shoulder. "How’s life treating our famous academy troublemaker?"
"WHEN DID YOU GET HERE!?"
Claire blinked at him. "I’ve always been here."
"You definitely appeared from nowhere just now."
"People say that to me a lot." She waved a hand. "Anyway. How’s academy life?"
Alden exhaled.
"Terrible. Your grandfather stopped me from being expelled. My reputation is still a complete disaster. People either glare at me or change direction when they see me coming."
Claire pressed her lips together.
"...Aww." The smile she was fighting broke through anyway. "I almost feel bad for you."
"Your face is doing the opposite of feeling bad."
"...Maybe just a little."
He shook his head and looked at her properly for a moment. Third-year student. Level Thirty-Two. One of the most naturally talented mages in the academy by his own notes when he’d been building this world.
Claire caught him looking.
"...What?" One brow went up. "Did you fall for me already?"
"No," Alden said. "I was just thinking the scared girl I met at the spring disappeared pretty fast."
The smile froze.
"..."
Her cheeks went red in a slow wave.
"D-Don’t—" She pointed at him. "Don’t bring that up!"
"You were acting well when you screamed for help back then." Alden added.
"I SAID DON’T—" She spun around and walked away fast. "I swear I’m going to kill that old man!"
Alden watched her go and chuckled once.
’Trying to tease the guy who literally designed your personality.’ He turned back to the corridor. ’You’ve got a long way to go.’
The smile faded on its own.
Finals.
He looked at his right hand.
Level Three. Only one Blueprint. Two Acts unlocked out of eight. The gap between where he was and where he needed to be before the exam period started was not a comfortable one.
’I need to be Level Twenty minimum. Twenty-Five if possible. I have a week, maybe less.’
The forest near campus wasn’t going to get him there. It had been hunted too regularly for too long. Whatever remained was weak.
’I need another source.’ He scratched the back of his head.
"...I’ll figure it out later." A yawn came out before he could stop it.
"For now." He tucked his hands into his pockets. "I need a nap."
The dormitory corridor was quiet by the time he got back. He reached his door and his hand went out for the handle.
Every hair on the back of his neck stood up at exactly the same moment.
[Predator’s Instinct: Activated]
Time stretched.
His pupils contracted. His body moved sideways before his brain signed off on the motion.
CRASH!
A glass bottle exploded against the wooden door directly where his head had been.
Shards scattered across the floor. Liquid splashed across the door frame.
Alden stood three feet to the left, breathing.
[Predator’s Instinct: Ended — Cooldown: 5 minutes]
[Wolf Blueprint: +2%]
He took a slow breath and scanned the corridor in both directions.
"...Who’s there."
There was not reply.
He lowered his center of gravity. "Come out. I know someone—"
A heavy thud sounded behind him.
He started turning.
The strike landed precisely on the side of his neck before he completed the motion.
His whole body stopped working. His knees buckled. The corridor floor came up.
Before his eyes got fully dark, his vision caught elegant black heels. Stopping beside him.
’Don’t—’ he thought. ’Don’t close your—’
Everything went dark.
____
A chandelier was the first thing he saw when his eyes opened again. Crystal, ceiling-mounted, candle-lit.
He blinked at it for a moment.
Then sat up.
Marble floor. Velvet curtains. Shelves of books along every wall.
Nothing about this room resembled his dormitory.
’Where am I—?’
"Welcome."
He turned toward the voice.
She sat by the window in a chair. Moonlight came through the glass behind her, outlining the white hair and making the crimson eyes catch the light.
Her hands rested folded in her lap. Her posture was completely relaxed.
The faint smile on her lips was the exact same one she’d worn in the courtyard during the welcoming ceremony.
"...To my dorm, Alden."
He stared at her.
"S-Seris...?"
She had someone knocked unconscious and brought to her room. He became aware of it.
"I’ve been looking forward," she said, "to meeting you properly."