Chapter 9

  IT’S JUST A PIECE OF PAPER (1)

  “Miss Ingrid, it’s time.” A calm, respectful voice accompanied the soft knock at the door.

  The butler, clad in a crisp black suit and white gloves, stood poised as his hand lingered briefly on the gilded handle. With true elegance, he pushed the double doors open.

  Inside the resplendent golden carriage, I adjusted my silk neck ribbon. A faint, sweet scent of roses clung to my aquamarine hair, neatly tied with a matching ribbon.

  With a calm exhale, I stepped forward.

  Click. Click. My boots struck the metal steps of the carriage as I emerged.

  The soft rustle of my uniform accompanied me—the prestigious Grindelwald Magic Academy dress.

  The deep blue coat hugged my shoulders, its single silver stripe glinting faintly under the morning light like a blade’s edge. A symbol of a first-year student, yes, but not just any first year.

  I, Ingrid Aenswalt of the Duchy of Aenswalt, specialist in water magic arts, had returned.

  A crimson carpet unfurled beneath my feet with a soft, whispering thud. At my side, my knight in gleaming golden armor stood tall, his polished gauntlets resting lightly on his sword’s hilt.

  “All ready, milady,” he said with a slight bow, extending his hand for me to take as I prepared to step down from the carriage.

  Gasps rippled through the gathered crowd of students. Heads turned. Conversations hushed.

  “Isn’t that… the prodigy from the Aenswalt Duchy?”

  “I heard she’s a genius. They say she’s already made it into the top class.”

  “I heard she mastered intermediate water spells before even enrollment.”

  “She’s flawless, beautiful, and talented.”

  “Do you think she’d even speak to someone like me?”

  Forget that—she’s sure to make it into the elite S-Class!

  Their whispers curled through the air like incense, sweet and cloying.

  Hmph.

  Good. So, they know who I am as they should.

  My butler, efficient as ever, busied himself with loading my luggage into the waiting carriage bound for the dormitories.

  “Milady, we wish you the best of luck for your next semester,” my family knight said with a small bow.

  “We will miss you dearly, milady. Please take care and stay healthy at school,” my butler added, his voice almost trembling as he blinked back tears.

  “You’re all worrying too much. I’m not a little girl anymore—I can take care of myself.” I babbled, trying not to let the crowd see my embarrassment.

  “I’m certain you will make your father and the duchy proud,” the butler and knight said together before turning to leave for the Aenswalt duchy.

  “Today’s the start of the second semester,” I murmured, mostly to myself. “And with it… the rankings.”

  The first semester had been little more than a warm-up: foundational magical theory, elemental control drills, and the grueling entrance exam that every student dreaded.

  The second toughest on the continent. The toughest for any magic academy.

  And I had aced them all.

  The academy felt alive with renewed energy as everyone had just returned after spending a small holiday. But this was no ordinary morning.

  The results of the first semester awaited, posted on the public board for all to see. More than just grades—they determined who among us would ascend to the elite S-Class: the top 40 students in the year.

  Of course, I’ll be among them. I don’t need these gawking plebs to tell me.

  But my ambitions soar far higher than simply being in the S-Class.

  “I want the top five. No… I will take it.” I whispered under my breath.

  Then not just the academy, but the entire continent will bow to the name Ingrid Aenswalt.

  I already knew the top two spots were untouchable this year. That was an undisputed truth carved into every student’s mind.

  But the next three?

  Those remain contested.

  I’d analyzed every rival, every potential threat. My nights were spent with books, grimoires, and endless spell practice until my hands trembled. No one wanted it more than I did.

  I’ve worked too hard, burned too many nights, to settle for anything less than fifth—or perhaps even fourth or third position.

  As I neared the announcement board in the main square, the air thickened with nervous energy. A dense crowd had gathered, their voices hushed, their gazes drawn to the massive parchment drifting over the board.

  “Tch. How annoying…” I muttered under my breath.

  They were packed so tightly it was almost laughable. As if staring harder would change the ink on the page.

  I didn’t slow. Instead, I cut through the crowd like a knife through water. Their hushed murmurs and startled glances trailed in my wake.

  “Can’t they just accept their fate?” I thought coldly, “rather than clinging to some desperate hope for a miracle.”

  A boy stepped aside clumsily as my gaze swept over him, clearing a path almost instinctively. The others soon followed, parting without a word.

  “W-Wait, isn’t that Ingrid—?”

  “She’s coming this way—I want to become just like her.”

  “Should I bow in front of her. Will she talk to me then?”

  “Don’t block her, you idiot! Do you want to die?”

  Their voices melted into a hush as I stopped in front of the board.

  But then, a peculiar sight caught my eye.

  A small, growing audience had gathered near the board, murmuring among themselves as though watching a street performance.

  “Tch… What’s their problem?” I thought, lips curling into a faint sneer. “They should just accept whatever pitiful class they’ve landed in and step aside for everyone to be able to see their results.”

  As I drew closer, the atmosphere shifted. The crowd wasn’t merely anxious about rankings. No. This was the kind of hush that came when carrion birds circled a wounded animal.

  But then, my eyes landed on an odd figure in the center of it all.

  Right in front of the board stood a peculiar girl. She wore our academy uniform, but her coat was pure white—marking her as a healer or priestess. Both were rare specialties at Grindelwald Magic Academy.

  Yet what drew everyone’s attention wasn’t her robe. It was the porcelain-white mask covering her face.

  Hmph… a masked girl? That’s certainly… unconventional.

  “Strange… I’ve never heard of a masked student before.”

  “Is that even allowed? Hiding one’s identity like that?”

  I heard other students’ whisper.

  Before I could ponder further, I noticed the true source of the commotion that had drawn everyone here.

  Standing directly in front of the masked girl was Garrick Fairbourne—the infamous son of the Fairbourne Duchy. His reputation preceded him.

  Nearly the entire academy knew of his exploits during the first semester: how he had forced both commoners and nobles alike out of school after “offending” his fragile ego. No one dared challenge him.

  An arrogant tyrant who ruled through fear.

  Draped in a deep crimson coat and a jeweled brooch screaming old money, he towered over the masked girl like a predator toying with its prey.

  “I said… move aside.” Garrick’s voice oozed with disdain.

  He brushed at his sleeve as though the air itself had soiled him. “How dare you stand in front of me, you little worm?”

  “Yeah, move it, filthy commoner.” One of his hangers-on jeered, lips curling.

  “Who are you? That mask’s creepy. Is she trespassing in uniform or something?”

  The masked girl flinched, her hands clutching her robe.

  “This is my first time here… I am only waiting for someone. I was called to visit the principal’s office, but I don’t know the way,” she stammered, her voice soft yet quivering.

  Oh dear… showing your weakness to a hyena like him? That’s your first mistake, girl. I thought to myself.

  Garrick’s eyes narrowed, amusement flashing darkly.

  “Your first time here? Don’t make me laugh. You snuck in, didn’t you? Pretending to be one of us.” He took a menacing step closer, his shadow engulfing the masked girl.

  “And where are your honorifics? This is Lord Garrick Fairbourne of the illustrious Fairbourne Duchy! Bow your head and show proper respect, peasant.” Another of his loonies stepped forward.

  The masked girl froze. Her fingers trembled at her sides as if unsure whether to flee or fight.

  “Remove that weird mask!” one of Garrick’s sycophants barked. “You’re probably hiding some dirty peasant face under there. Beg for forgiveness properly! She must be one of those wannabe Grindelwald students posing here, who couldn’t even pass the basic assessment to enter the academy.”

  A smirk tugged at Garrick’s lips. He leaned in, eyes gleaming with cruelty.

  “Come now… I’m feeling merciful today. Maybe if you kneel and kiss my boots, I’ll let the guards escort you off the grounds instead of tossing you in the dungeons for trespassing.”

  The girl’s shoulders quaked. Around us, the crowd watched in gleeful silence—too spineless to interfere.

  Pathetic.

  As for the girl, she couldn’t defend herself, being only a healer, and I didn’t want the academy to miss out on a rare talent that hadn’t even been nurtured yet, despite knowing little of her background.

  I sighed and stepped forward. The click of my boots drew startled gasps.

  “Ingrid Aenswalt?!”

  “She’s coming this way—”

  “What’s she going to do? Even Garrick wouldn’t—”

  “But isn’t she a duke’s daughter too?”

  “But I have heard Garrick’s father is close to the nobility in the Grindelwald kingdom.”

  I ignored them.

  Haughty nobles like Garrick disgusted me. Picking on a weakling to inflate his ego? How very… mundane.

  “Fairbourne,” I said coolly, voice slicing through the tension. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about your own ranking? Or do you have so little confidence in your abilities that bullying weak little girls has become your pastime?”

  “Ingrid… Aenswalt,” Garrick said stiffly. “This is none of your concern. She—”

  “Was merely standing in your way? So, you decided to trample on her for fun?” I tilted my head, my tone as sweet as poisoned honey. “How very… noble of you.”

  Gasps rippled through the crowd.

  Even Garrick’s lackeys shifted uneasily. But he didn’t back down.

  Garrick’s jaw tightened, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Even if you are an Aenswalt, your pitiful little duchy is nothing compared to the power of my Fairbourne family.”

  I smirked, letting his words hang in the air for a beat before twisting the knife.

  “So, mighty Lord Garrick…” I stepped closer, my sapphire eyes glinting like cold steel. “Tell me—did you make it into Class S?”

  His face twitched. His eyes darted for a fraction of a second. That was enough.

  “I… I—there must’ve been some mistake in the results!” His voice cracked like glass under pressure. “I—I was just about to inform the examination council to fix my marks. You’ll see—I’ll be back in S-Class in no time!”

  I didn’t even bother to hide my smirk. He didn’t need to say it.

  I had already analyzed and eliminated Garrick Fairbourne as a potential rival long ago. His scores simply didn’t measure up.

  “Really? Is that the best you’ve got?” I said, the derision in my tone cutting sharper than any blade.

  His face flushed red. His lackeys shifted uncomfortably, their bravado waning as I stepped closer.

  Garrick, however, wasn’t done blustering.

  “Then what about this girl?” he demanded, jabbing a finger toward the masked girl. “We can’t just leave when the school’s security might be compromised! Someone like her—hiding her face—could be a trespasser! She needs to reveal herself or get kicked out!”

  The masked girl stiffened, clutching her robes tighter. As if she didn’t want to remove that mask at any cost.

  I let out a small laugh, not bothering to hide my amusement.

  “Do you really believe the academy’s security is that lax?” I asked, my gaze sweeping lazily across the crowd. “Can’t you see the guards at their posts? Not one has moved. Or have you forgotten about the Watchers—those who walk unseen among us to maintain discipline? What if they’re here… right now… watching you?”

  Garrick’s head snapped toward the crowd, eyes widening. For a split second, his expression flickered between irritation and fear.

  The crowd stirred.

  One of his lackeys whispered, “The Watchers… they’re personally chosen and report directly to the school principal.” A shiver ran through Garrick’s group.

  “W-What if they are watching us?” another muttered nervously, stepping back.

  But Garrick’s face hardened, his pride unwilling to yield so easily.

  “But we can’t leave this matter like this!” one of his cronies quickly spoke up for him. “She needs to take off the mask and prove she belongs here!”

  “Why?” I said lightly, almost playfully. “What’s so scandalous about a mask? In fact…” I traced a finger along my chin, feigning thoughtfulness. “I rather like her style. Maybe I should get a mask like that myself—make it my signature look and wear it to class every single day.”

  I stepped forward, locking eyes with Garet but still speaking to his lackey. ‘Your noble status holds no value here—neither yours nor mine. So, tell me, if I wore that mask, would you still call me a filthy commoner, Garet’s lackey? Would you still have a problem then?”

  The crowd erupted in muffled laughter and startled murmurs. Garrick’s lackeys faltered.

  “Let’s just go, Garrick,” another whispered urgently. “If we push this further and the Watchers really are here…”

  Garrick’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists. His gaze met mine—burning with impotent fury.

  “Fine.” He turned sharply, his coat flaring behind him. “But I’ll remember this, Aenswalt. Just you wait.”

  “Do.” I smiled, folding my arms. “I couldn’t care less about your little power plays, Fairbourne. And perhaps next time you’ll remember to check your own ranking before barking at others like a stray dog.”

  The crowd parted as Garrick stormed off, his entourage trailing behind with their tails tucked between their legs.

  Silence lingered for a moment. Then hushed murmurs filled the void as the onlookers turned their wide-eyed stares to me.

  I glanced at the masked girl. She was still clutching her robe, her head tilted slightly as if studying me in return. I extended my hand.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice softening.

  For a long moment, she didn’t answer. Then—slowly—she raised a trembling hand toward me.

  Was she… trying to shake my hand? Out of gratitude?

  How quaint.

  There.

  I grasped her hand gently, my expression serene.

  Savor this moment for the rest of your life, commoner. Few get so lucky as to earn my protection.

  But as our hands touched, I felt something shift—something jingle.

  “Wait… what’s—?” I began, my voice catching.

  The crowd erupted into hushed murmurs.

  “Wait, what’s happening?”

  “Is she giving Lady Ingrid something?”

  Then the masked girl suddenly spoke, her voice trembling but determined.

  “Please don’t take my mask away from me. Even if you like it, I can’t give it to you. It’s a gift from my mother… I could never part with it.”

  “Wait—what? Why would I… You… no… I…” I stammered, my carefully composed expression faltering as my mind scrambled to catch up. What is she even talking about?

  Before I could gather my wits, she pulled her hand away.

  Ching. Ching.

  A small pouch now sat in my palm.

  “I can’t give you my mask, even if you try to force me,” she said firmly. “All I have is this money—you can take all you want, but not the mask. And… thank you for telling me about the watchers. I’ll ask them for help.”

  “Wait—what about this money? And the watchers… I just made that up from a rumor at school!” I called after her, but it was too late.

  The masked girl clutched her robes and darted into the crowd with surprising speed, her white coat fluttering like a ghost in the wind, weaving nimbly past the stunned onlookers. Then she stopped abruptly in front of a bespectacled girl who looked perfectly ordinary.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Miss Watcher, please take me to the principal’s office. It’s urgent.”

  The girl blinked at her in shock. “M-Miss, I think you’ve mistaken me for—”

  “No mistake. Take me to the principal, now!”

  The bespectacled girl hesitated, then sighed. “Alright… but let me correct you—I’m not a watcher.”

  Taking the masked girl’s hand, she pulled her away. Together, they disappeared into the crowd like shadows melting in sunlight.

  “Wait! Take this back!” I shouted after them, waving the pouch of coins.

  But my voice fell on deaf ears.

  Instead, a new wave of murmurs spread like wildfire through the crowd.

  “So… Lady Ingrid was trying to take her mask?”

  “She even accepted money in exchange. Is that… proper behavior for a noble?”

  “Poor girl. That mask was her late mother’s only remaining gift… and now she has no savings left. She won’t even be able to afford her next meal.”

  “How tragic… so sorrowful.”

  “WHAT?!” I spun on my heel, glaring at them. “Don’t make up such ridiculous stories! She never said that and I never asked for her mask! And this—this money—she just shoved it into my hand!”

  The whispers only grew louder.

  “She’s denying it now… how cruel.”

  “Is her true nature a delinquent, too?”

  “A true noble wouldn’t even touch commoner money…”

  “Perhaps the rumors about the Aenswalt duchy being in poverty were true.”

  My eye twitched.

  All these fools just can’t keep their mouth shut. I only mentioned wearing a mask as a conversation. There was no real intent behind it!

  For a second, I looked in the pouch and my breath hitched, “Big Gold Coins.” And a pouch full of them. This money is nearly five years' worth of our entire duchy’s budget.

  But then I remembered something very important I came here to do.

  “Clear the way. I have no time for your petty rumors,” I snapped, striding toward the results board. My boots clicked with righteous indignation. “I’ve waited long enough to bask in the glory of my success. Make way!”

  I turned sharply to face the results board, my sapphire eyes narrowing as I scanned the top names of the S-Class ranking sheet. The air around me seemed to thrum with anticipation—or maybe that was just my own heartbeat echoing in my ears.

  Naturally, I started from third place. The first and second places should already be occupied by those two monsters.

  But third? That had been my first realistic target.

  Alright… not third. Tch. I had predicted as much. That girl was bound to be a problem—an irritatingly competent one at that.

  Fine. Fourth, then.

  I let my gaze drop to the next name.

  …Not me again.

  My fingers twitched slightly. The corners of my smile strained as if resisting gravity. The fourth spot was occupied by that crazy psychopath.

  He must have pulled another one of his ridiculous stunts during the practical, impressing the examiners with his flair for chaos.

  So, it had to be fifth. Not ideal, but within the range to fulfill my goal.

  My eyes found the next name.

  “A… L… I… C… I… A…”

  I spelled out the letters like a spell gone wrong. But the syllables felt foreign on my tongue.

  “That’s… not how my name is spelled.”

  My brows furrowed. My heartbeat stumbled.

  “…Who is this, Alicia?”

  A strange silence fell over my thoughts, like my brain needed time to recalibrate.

  “Miss Ingrid got 6th place!” someone from the crowd exclaimed, their voice brimming with awe.

  “Ohhh, even if it’s not top five, she’s still in the top ten of the elite S-Class!”

  “She’s truly phenomenal… as expected of the Aenswalt duchy’s prodigy!”

  The crowd’s praises washed over me like saltwater over an open wound.

  Sixth…? Me? Sixth?!

  My carefully laid plans… my sleepless nights of spell practice… my countless hours analyzing every possible rival in the academy… All for this?

  No. Impossible. This has to be a mistake.

  I scanned the board again. Once. Twice. Thrice. My eyes darted desperately between fifth and sixth, hoping—praying—that the ink might magically shift and reveal my rightful place.

  But no matter how hard I stared, “Alicia” remained stubbornly lodged in fifth place like a dagger in my pride.

  “I… I’ve never even heard of this Alicia!” I blurted out, my voice rising in pitch. “How could she… where did she come from?! Who even is she?!”

  “There must be a printing error,” I said, louder now. “That’s it. Some pitiful clerk must have miswritten the rankings. There’s no way I’m sixth after all my hard work and flawless analysis!”

  The crowd stepped back slightly as my voice echoed through the courtyard.

  “I am never accepting this result!” I shouted, my sapphire eyes blazing with fury. My fists clenched at my sides, nails biting into my gloves. “Do you hear me, Grindelwald Academy? This is a desecration of justice itself!”

  …

  “Hey! Quick, over here! Someone’s trying to climb up and tear down the result board!” one of the Grindelwald Academy magic guards shouted from his lookout post.

  “Not again this year…” the guard stationed near the pillar groaned, already breaking into a run toward the central announcement board.

  “Why can’t they just accept their results and move on?” he muttered under his breath, exasperation written all over his face.

  “Stop her before she tears down the entire sheet!” the first guard shouted as he ran to intercept.

  “Please calm down, miss! It’s just a piece of paper,” the second guard called out, already summoning a minor wind spell to halt her ascent.

  But the noble girl, clinging to the wooden frame like a determined cat, shot him a glare so sharp it could cleave through stone.

  “Silence, pleb! I am executing justice!”

  ◇◇◇

  The spiral stairway leading to the highest tower of Grindelwald Magic Academy seemed endless at first. But after a few steps, the scenery blurred—like reality itself folded—and, as if by magic, they now stood on the top floor.

  The masked girl walked with a faint spring in her step. Her covered cheeks seemed almost… perked, as if amused by an unspoken joke.

  By contrast, the girl leading her—a quiet figure with neat spectacles framing sharp, intelligent eyes—moved with measured steps. She cast wary glances back, her expression tightening—subtle yet unmistakable—as a faint discomfort settled in her heart.

  She watched the masked girl carefully, almost as though escorting something dangerous she didn’t want near the tower.

  They walked the hallways in silence, finally stopping before an arched wooden door etched with the Grindelwald Academy symbol.

  The spectacle girl turned, her tone clipped but polite.

  “Here. This is the principal’s office.”

  The masked girl inclined her head slightly. “Thank you.”

  “There’s no need for thanks.” Her glasses glinted as she pushed them up with a finger, then clasped her hands behind her back. “But… I should tell you—I’m not really a watcher. That’s just a silly rumor students spread for their amusement.”

  “Alright, if you insist.” The masked girl’s tone remained calm—too calm.

  But then, as though curiosity had bloomed in her voice like a late-blooming flower, she asked, “What made you think I was a Watcher in the first place?”

  The masked girl tilted her head the other way, as if considering how much to say. Then her answer came, simple and unflinching:

  “Oh, it’s because you were the only one in the crowd who wasn’t human. So, naturally, I assumed you were a watcher.”

  The air shifted.

  A sharp, almost suffocating hostility spread through the hallway like a rolling storm. The lantern flames sputtered as if choking on invisible smoke.

  The spectacle girl’s expression remained calm, but her eyes darkened, narrowing dangerously.

  “…What you just said is quite offensive. What proof do you have to say that about me?” Her voice, previously level, now carried a dangerous edge.

  The masked girl did not flinch. She did not even blink.

  “Well…” her soft voice echoed faintly, “aren’t you a shapeshifter?”

  Silence.

  For a long, tense moment, the air seemed to vibrate with suppressed power. Then—just as suddenly as it had appeared—the hostility dissipated. But it left behind a bitter aftertaste that clung to the back of the spectacle girl’s throat.

  She stared at the masked figure, feeling as though her very existence had been laid bare. Yet, when she peered into the mask’s blank face, she saw nothing in return.

  No malice. No fear. Not even amusement.

  “If you know so much about us, then you’ve surely heard our reputation… and what shapeshifters are capable of.”

  Shapeshifters.

  A tragic and terrifying tribe whose origins were shrouded in mystery. No one knew exactly when they had first appeared—whether they were the cursed remnants of ancient alchemic magic experiments, beings from another plane, or perhaps even something alien to this world.

  Neither human nor beast. Neither living nor undead.

  During the Great Wars, their kind had been both weapon and victim. Once people discovered their ability to not only imitate any living being but to consume a corpse and inherit its memories—its very identity—fear spread like wildfire. Distrust turned to hate. Hate turned to genocide.

  They were hunted relentlessly across every continent. Even the demon continent was not spared from such atrocities.

  And yet, here was one, standing—or rather, seething—right in front of her.

  “…Are you not afraid of us?” the spectacle girl asked at last, her tone hollow. As she spoke, her human form unraveled—her body shifting into a writhing mass of black globules that glistened like oil under the lantern light.

  The hallway seemed to shrink under its presence, the air thick and heavy as if it might crush the masked girl where she stood.

  It was a silent, implicit threat: This form could devour anyone whole in an instant.

  But the masked girl didn’t even flinch.

  “Not at all.” She answered.

  Her voice was warm, almost curious.

  “I’ve only read about your kind in books. I always wanted to meet one.”

  A silence hung in the corridor, thick and oppressive. The black mass rippled—hesitation? surprise? It was hard to tell.

  “…I can’t believe I’ve been found out so easily,” the shapeshifter said at last, a hint of bitter amusement creeping into her tone. “You must be the new admission… Alicia.”

  The masked girl tilted her head slightly, as if looking for the hole from which the voice came.

  “And here I thought the principal had gone senile—giving special treatment to a mere child.”

  The black mass quivered, tendrils of shadow curling inward like a creature retreating to its lair.

  “I hope… we never meet again.”

  Then, as if in response to some unseen cue, the globules ignited in silent blue flames. For a heartbeat, the entire hallway was bathed in ghostly azure light—cold and otherworldly.

  Poof.

  She vanished.

  Only silence and the faint smell of burned air remained.

  The masked girl stared at the empty space for a moment, then chuckled softly to herself.

  “She must be quite shy.”

  ◇◇◇

  A soft knock on the door drew the attention of the two strongest mages on the academy grounds.

  “You may enter,” came a calm, sonorous voice.

  The door creaked as it pushed slightly open. Then, with a gentle shove from my delicate hands, it swung fully inward. I stepped inside the headmaster’s office, wearing the Grindelwald uniform, my face obscured by a pristine white mask.

  The room was far simpler than I had expected of the legendary Grindelwald Academy’s headmaster. To the right, a mountain of paperwork leaned precariously on a rack. To the left, a wide arched window opened to the sprawling vista of the academy grounds and beyond.

  At the center of it all stood an elderly man, his long white beard cascading down to his stomach like a river of snow. His age had done little to diminish the sharpness of his eyes or the heavy presence that seemed to press against the walls of the office.

  He reminded me of illustrations I’d once seen of a wandering sage—one who once helped return a lost ring and saved a realm—wise, yet somehow far more dangerous.

  Though he kept his power tightly suppressed, my unique skill allowed me to sense the monumental magic coiled beneath his calm exterior like a slumbering storm.

  But my attention shifted swiftly to his left. Standing there was a familiar figure—Fillia Arcaviel. One of the mages I met at the Arcadia magic tower.

  She wore her usual warm smile, one that seemed to say she had been expecting this very moment.

  “Welcome, Alicia, to the Grindelwald Magic Academy,” Fillia said warmly. “Allow me to introduce myself properly this time—I am Fillia Arcaviel, one of the instructors here.”

  “Nice to meet you again, Miss Fillia,” I replied, a hint of surprise slipping into my voice at the unexpected revelation. “And my name is Alicia.” I then turned to introduce myself to the headmaster.

  “Alicia, hm?” the headmaster remarked, stroking his beard. “That’s a fine name.”

  “My mother gave it to me,” I answered softly.

  But I could feel it. His words were casual, but his gaze… his gaze looked for something deeper inside. Probing past my mask to gauge the truth beneath. My magic level, my soul power, my nature.

  Fillia stepped in lightly, her voice playful but firm.

  “Headmaster, please…” she said gently, glancing at the older man. She, too, had noticed his intent.

  The headmaster chuckled, “I am Eldruin Grindelwald, Headmaster of this academy. And I welcome you, young Miss Alicia.”

  “Alicia,” Fillia continued, her tone light, “I told the headmaster a little about our earlier encounter—particularly how your light magic purified the cursed grimoire. And, he wishes to request a small test from you before classes officially begin. You are, of course, free to decline. Your admission is already secured.”

  “Come now, Miss Fillia,” Eldruin, the headmaster, said with a teasing grin. “You wouldn’t deny this old man his little whims now, would you?”

  “You know very well I can’t lose the new teacher over your whims, Headmaster,” Fillia countered with a knowing smile. “You were the one who approved this package deal.”

  “Alright, I’ll do it.” I sensed there was something deeper going on between the two, so I humbly agreed.

  Miss Fillia nodded.

  “It’s not so much a test,” She then explained as she set something on the table with a soft clink. “Think of it more as a way to measure your magical potential.”

  My eyes widened slightly behind the mask.

  So this is it… I thought my fingers tingling with anticipation.

  The infamous magic measuring crystal—a transparent orb about the size of a melon.

  The iconic test of every magic academy.

  This was the moment every young mage dreamed of—the chance to touch the sphere that revealed their hidden potential. Even I couldn’t help feeling a flicker of excitement.

  And now I finally get to touch one… in Grindelwald Magic Academy on the first day itself.

  Thank you, Athena. You always know exactly what I want.

  Miss Fillia beckoned me toward the orb, stepping aside to make room. “Now, Alicia, place your hand on the crystal.”

  I took a calm step forward. With a quiet inhale, I placed my gloved hand lightly against the cool, smooth surface of the orb.

  The crystal reacted instantly.

  Light bloomed from within, starting as a gentle white glow before deepening into a faint golden hue. It pulsed softly, like a heartbeat, then surged—bright enough to illuminate the whole room for a few dazzling seconds.

  Then, as quickly as it flared, the glow began to fade. The golden light dissolved until only the faintest residual shimmer lingered in the crystal’s core.

  “…Wait. What? That’s it?”

  Miss Fillia blinked, frowning at the orb. She picked it up carefully, turning it in her hands as if inspecting it for cracks.

  “That can’t be right!?” she muttered. “There must be some error. Is the crystal ball broken? I expected at least something phenomenal.”

  Her brow furrowed in disappointment.

  Poor Miss Fillia, I thought. Even a special crystal like this is no match for a magical genius like me.

  Any seasoned mage knows the trick: by layering magic aura with an opposing element to dampen the flow, they can mask the total output of magic from anyone.

  I had shrouded my magic in a faint black miasma, letting only a soft thread of light magic escape—barely enough to register. The crystal’s delicate readings had been thoroughly deceived.

  To the world, I’d appear slightly above average. Nothing threatening.

  A humble light-affinity mage.

  But the old man watching from across the room didn’t look so easily fooled.

  “Hm…” Eldruin Grindelwald stroked his long beard thoughtfully. “That reading is slightly above what a high priestess might show. And there’s a trace of divine energy, too. Impressive for a student.”

  There was no warmth in his tone—just calm, analytical observation. His piercing gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than I liked, as though weighing what he’d just seen against what he sensed beneath it.

  ◇◇◇

  The headmaster held a faint, almost innocent smile on his face. Alicia mirrored it with one of her own—polite, composed, the kind of smile one offers a stranger they don’t yet trust.

  But that single, fleeting moment of letting her guard down was all he needed.

  Before she could react, she felt a sharp pull—not physical, but as if her soul was being dragged itself.

  The warm office, the stacks of papers, the faint smell of ink—all vanished. And in an instant, she was yanked into the headmaster’s inner world.

  This technique… she recognized it.

  A domain.

  It was an ancient art developed by the noble demons during the Great Wars—a method to assess a creature’s true magical essence by forcing their auras to clash.

  Whoever’s magic reigned supreme would form the domain, a space where their raw nature was laid bare, while the other’s crumbled.

  This art had long been thought lost to history, known only to a few surviving demon lords. And yet, Eldruin Grindelwald, that too a human, was using it now, effortlessly.

  Alicia’s lips curved faintly beneath her mask.

  ‘How quaint. Did he truly believe he could peer beneath my mask with such a trick?’ She thought.

  The moment the headmaster’s domain stabilized, it began to crumble, giving way to an endless expanse of blinding white—a dimensionless void, cold and luminous. At its center, a towering throne of light rose skyward, and upon it sat a lone figure: a girl shrouded in shadows that refused to reveal her form.

  The White Room. Alicia’s domain replaced the headmaster’s domain.

  Eldruin stood far below, balanced on a narrow spire of white stone, looking up. And he could not—no matter how he strained—see Alicia’s face. Even here, he had not been granted the privilege.

  A chill crawled up his spine.

  It wasn’t that her magic was suffocating or oppressive. No—it was far more terrifying than that. Her mana was infinite, vast and unending, like staring into an ocean so deep it had no bottom… and no surface. A void without limits.

  Her magic didn’t overflow. It didn’t surge or rage. It simply… was. An eternal presence.

  A monster in human form.

  For the first time in decades, Eldruin felt small.

  His lips parted as a whisper escaped, tinged with awe and something dangerously close to fear.

  “…So this is what it feels like… to stand before someone powerful enough to believe they are above all. Almost like a god… almost like her.”

  His fingers tightened slightly on his staff, though he knew it would do no good here. A sinking feeling—like he had already lost before even getting the chance to draw his wand—left him vulnerable.

  No words were exchanged between the two.

  None were needed. The space—the view from above and below—said it all.

  And then—

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  Miss Fillia’s light voice cut in. “It almost felt like you two weren’t here at all.”

  The mental domain shattered soundlessly, the white room dissolving into nothing. The office returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.

  “You passed,” Eldruin said smoothly, as though nothing had transpired. His faint smile returned—calm, pleasant, but behind it, a glimmer of mischief danced in his eyes.

  “You’ll fit in just fine at this school, Miss Alicia.”

  “I see, Alicia. Then I think you’re free to go,” Miss Fillia said, trying to figure out what the headmaster did. “You shouldn’t be late for your first class.”

  Alicia said nothing. She nodded in acknowledgment and turned on her heel, walking towards the door.

  Her fingers brushed the polished handle, ready to pull it closed behind her—

  But then—

  She paused.

  A strange pressure swelled in the air, subtle but suffocating. It wasn’t magic in the usual sense—but something else entirely. Like the quiet before a great storm.

  A strange, unknown sensation was stirring inside her again. It had been growing stronger these past weeks—an unfamiliar heat curling in her chest, seeping out in quiet, uncontrollable pulses. Bit by bit, day by day.

  Her eyes narrowed faintly behind the mask as they flicked to the magic crystal on the pedestal.

  Faint streaks of electric blue danced across her irises, pulsing with restrained power.

  The crystal ball quivered violently, light fracturing within it like a dying star illuminating the whole room as if it was about to ignite space itself.

  Then, without warning, it shattered—not in shards but into impossibly fine particles. Dust finer than ash, glittering like stardust, scattered through the air.

  Carried by the faint draft, it swirled around the room before dissolving entirely, as though it had never existed.

  Alicia’s voice was calm, almost mocking as she glanced over her shoulder.

  “Maybe you were right. The crystal ball really was broken.”

  And with that, she stepped out, the door clicking shut behind her.

  “Well… Well.” Eldruin chuckled, rubbing his chin as his eyes glittered with intrigue. “I suppose I completely pissed her off with my little stunt. We’ll have to be careful with that one.”

  Fillia, however, wasn’t laughing. Her eyes were fixed on the pedestal, which now stood empty.

  “No… how can the crystal ball be broken?” she murmured, disbelief tightening her voice. “That was the only one capable of containing your magic power. It was custom-made. Do you know how many thousands of big gold coins it would take to craft another?”

  “Hahaha… oh, you worry too much, Miss Fillia,” Eldruin said with a grin, though his gaze was still fixed on the door where Alicia had disappeared. “Right now, there are only three people in this entire academy who could’ve possibly pushed that crystal ball beyond its threshold.”

  “Three?” Fillia’s voice wavered. “So just how strong is Alicia?”

  “Strong enough,” Eldruin said, his grin softening, his tone unusually somber. “For there to be only one chance.”

  Fillia blinked. “One chance? You mean she has a chance even against you? That’s—”

  “No.” The headmaster’s voice sharpened, cutting her off. “I meant I’d have one chance… to escape with my life. And perhaps enough to save yours as well—if we were to fight her here and now. Outside of that…”

  He exhaled, his shoulders loosening slightly, but the smile on his lips didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “I may still have a few tricks left if it came to a private match. But in earnest? Against her?”

  His gaze drifted to the now-empty air where the crystal dust had dissolved, letting out a dry laugh. “…There’s no way.”

  “You’re joking…” Fillia’s words came out as barely a whisper.

  “Haah… Ahaha… perhaps I am,” Eldruin said lightly, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.

  He turned slightly, staring out the window at the sprawling academy grounds below, where students bustled.

  “I wonder… how much of this is mere coincidence, and how much of it is fate… for the two of them to arrive here at the same time.”

  ◇◇◇

  “Carol… Caroline. Your food’s getting cold.” The True Demon Lord’s voice cut through the silence, directed at the True Hero sitting listlessly at the dining table.

  Caroline didn’t respond. Her hand rested idly against her chin, eyes unfocused as she stared past the steaming plate before her.

  It had only been a few days since Alicia left for Grindelwald Magic Academy. And yet, something gnawed relentlessly at Caroline’s mind.

  “Do you miss your daughters that much?” the Demon Lord teased. “It’s only been a few months since Lili left, and Alicia just dropped by for a few days. Shouldn’t you feel… recharged after that night?”

  “No.” Caroline’s voice was low, almost weary. “It’s not that.” She folded her arms over her chest, her gaze hardening slightly. “I was just… remembering my master.”

  “You mean that scary goddess?” the Demon Lord’s voice shook.

  “Mind your words. She’s my master—and Alicia’s ancestor.”

  “But what’s got you so worried? Is it the devil Alicia encountered? Are you worried about what they might be planning?”

  Caroline shook her head. “No. I stopped worrying about the outside world a long time ago. It’s Alicia… she’s the one who worries me.”

  After a brief silence, Caroline continued. “I’ve told you before—my master isn’t some deity bound to a sacred domain. She was chosen by the Divine System itself, wielded as its enforcer. She believed in overwhelming her enemies with sheer force… crushing them with power befitting that role. And only now I am beginning to realize… Alicia may be even more of a hypocrite than my master ever was.”

  The Demon Lord tilted his head. “Alicia? Sweet little Alicia?” He chuckled, leaning back lazily. “Come now, Caroline. She’s such a good-hearted child.” The True Demon Lord still used the recent gift he received from Alicia as a stress buster.

  Caroline’s eyes darkened. “Alicia is different. She makes a show of power by using her opponents’ strengths against them, twisting their own nature to crush them. She could’ve destroyed the Curse Devil outright with her divine energy. But she chose to fight it using black miasma and curses—and still overwhelmed it. Even when I spar with her, she always turns my own techniques against me.”

  The Demon Lord’s grin widened. “She’s a true mage. I like that.”

  “Don’t be na?ve and be deceived by her charm,” Caroline admitted. “To break her opponent’s pride by proving their power meaningless. That’s far crueler than outright destruction. She might grow up to be far more sadistic—and prideful—than my master ever was.”

  “You’re not far off yourself when you were in your prime.” The True Demon Lord said in passing.

  “Did you say something?” Caroline’s sharp, golden eyes darted to him.

  “Nothing,” he replied smoothly. “I was just saying you respect your master a lot for shaping who you are today.”

  Caroline’s gaze turned somber. “Do you know what happens when a caged beast finally tries to set itself free? It turns into a monster. The seal on Alicia is already broken… but I don’t know what’s holding back Alicia’s true nature from surfacing completely. I know—deep down—she’s something entirely different.”

  “You’re overthinking it,” the Demon Lord said gently. “Nothing bad will happen just because you’re thinking negatively.”

  “A demon telling me to think positively? You really are one of a kind.” A faint smile tugged at Caroline’s lips. “I just hope Alicia finds someone who can guide her… the way my master helped me realize what I truly wanted to be.”

  ◇◇◇

  Outside the principal’s office, Alicia walked the long corridor in silence, her boots clicking faintly against the polished marble floor. Her hands brushed lightly along the wall as she traced her path.

  “I’m sure I passed through this place earlier with that watcher…” she murmured to herself. “So why is it taking so long to get back?”

  She stopped at the corner, eyes narrowing slightly beneath her mask.

  “There’s no way I could get lost so easily… right?”

  As she rounded the next turn, still caught in her thoughts, she collided into something solid—no, someone.

  “Ah—!”

  The impact knocked her slightly off balance. Papers burst into the air like startled doves, fluttering chaotically as several thick books tumbled to the ground with dull thuds.

  “Oh no—!”

  Alicia immediately crouched down to gather the scattered items, her hands moving quickly.

  At the same moment, the other person—a figure nearly twice her size—also dropped to their knees, scooping up papers in order with large but surprisingly careful hands.

  “I’m so sorry!” Alicia said quickly. “I should’ve watched where I was going.”

  “No, no, it’s my fault,” the other person replied, their voice warm and slightly flustered. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Alicia shook her head lightly. “No, I am sorry. I wasn’t the one looking ahead.”

  “It was me, I should’ve been more careful walking with all these papers—”

  “No, if I hadn’t been spacing out, none of this would’ve happened.”

  “I should’ve gone slower around the corner—”

  They both froze mid-bow again, their foreheads mere inches apart. Then both voices overlapped again:

  “I’m sorry!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  Alicia looked up, and a tall woman gazed down at her.

  She had ruffled, long white hair streaked with grey and wore a kind yet awkward smile—partially hidden behind large, circular glasses that were opaque from the outside.

  For some reason, not even Alicia’s eyes could pierce beyond those lenses.

  The woman stood clutching the stack of papers to her chest like a lifeline.

  She was dressed in an elegant high-collared blouse with ruffled layers at the chest, tucked neatly into slim-fitting dark trousers. A deep blue cloak draped over her shoulders. A leather belt cinched her waist, completing her refined appearance.

  The two stood there for a moment, staring at each other, as if neither knew how to resolve the strange silence between them.

  “Alicia! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” Athena’s voice suddenly called out from the other end of the corridor, snapping them both out of their reverie.

  “I… I’ll have to go now,” Alicia said softly.

  “It’s alright. Thank you for helping me pick up my things,” the woman replied.

  Without another word, Alicia walked past her, heading toward Athena.A few steps later, curiosity tugged at her. She turned back briefly and saw the woman walking away, heading in the direction of the headmaster’s office.

  ◇◇◇

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