ANOTHER DAY AT THE ACADEMY

  Deep beneath the city, hidden from the eyes of the kingdom, an underground chamber flickered with dim torchlight. Hooded figures sat in a semi-circle around a raised stone altar, their masks concealing their identities. At the center of the room, a man in dark robes slammed his fist against the table, frustration etched into his voice.

  “We were supposed to have enough by now,” he growled, his voice echoing through the chamber. “The ceremony approaches, and yet we are still short on offerings.”

  Another figure, taller and draped in a cloak lined with silver embroidery, leaned forward. “The villages are more guarded than before. We barely escaped last night’s raid. And now, rumors are spreading—Academy students were involved.”

  A murmur swept through the assembly.

  “Students?” one of them sneered. “They are children. What could they possibly—”

  “They are not just children,” the silver-cloaked figure interrupted. “That is not something we can ignore.”

  The leader, his mask adorned with intricate dark symbols, exhaled sharply. “Then we must adjust our approach. The ritual must proceed, and we will have our sacrifices—one way or another.”

  A heavy silence followed, before the torches dimmed, as if responding to the malice in the air.

  The darkness was growing.

  ?The Academy

  Morning light filtered through the grand windows of the Academy hall as students gathered for their daily lessons. However, an unusual tension hung in the air. Whispers filled the corridors, rumors spreading about the attacks near the kingdom’s borders.

  Professor Orlan, standing before the class, cleared his throat, silencing the murmurs.

  “I’m aware of the concerns circulating among you,” he said, his voice firm but reassuring. “Yes, there have been disturbances in villages outside the kingdom walls. However, the kingdom’s guards are handling the situation.”

  Ethan narrowed his eyes, exchanging a glance with Callan and Orion. He knew firsthand that the “disturbances” were far worse than simple bandit raids.

  Orlan continued, “You are students of the Academy, not soldiers. Your focus should remain on your studies and training. Leave these matters to those responsible.”

  Lysandra crossed her arms. “So, we’re supposed to ignore it?” she muttered under her breath.

  Orlan’s sharp gaze flicked toward her. “You are supposed to prepare for your future roles in society. That is the best way to serve the kingdom.”

  His words did little to ease the unease in the room, but no one dared to argue further.

  Professor Orlan stood before the class, his piercing gaze sweeping over the eager yet uncertain faces of the Virgo students. Today’s lesson was unlike anything they had attempted before.

  “Throughout your training, you have learned to reshape tangible materials—wood, metal, stone,” Orlan began. “But true power lies in what you cannot see.”

  Raising a hand, he let his aura flow through the air, the energy weaving seamlessly into the space around him. Slowly, the atmosphere began to shift, and a faint mist formed, swirling around his fingertips. The mist condensed into tiny particles—dense specks floating in the open air.

  The students watched in fascination as the particles fused together, their structures aligning until they formed something recognizable—a small, translucent insect, its wings delicate yet visibly sturdy.

  “The emptiness around you is not truly empty,” Orlan explained. “Air is made up of countless unseen particles, each waiting to be shaped. This is a skill that few Virgo alchemists can master because it requires absolute control over your aura.”

  He infused more energy into the insect, his eyes flickering with a green glow. The tiny construct lifted into the air, fluttering across the room with lifelike precision.

  “When connected through aura,” Orlan continued, “you can share its sight. Though not as clear as your own vision, it is invaluable for reconnaissance—allowing you to see areas you cannot physically reach or even spy on potential threats.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The insect circled back, landing lightly on Orlan’s palm. A moment later, he released his connection, allowing the construct to dissolve into mist once more.

  Then, he turned his gaze to the students.

  “Now, your task—create your own.”

  A murmur rippled through the classroom. This was far beyond anything they had done before.

  Orlan folded his arms. “Be warned—many who attempt this fail. The key is control. If you cannot properly direct your aura, you will not be able to bind the particles together.”

  He gestured for them to begin.

  Ethan exhaled, focusing as he activated his Lion Sight, expecting to see the hidden codes of the air around him.

  But… nothing.

  The air remained empty, featureless. No particles, no structure to grasp.

  Frowning, he extended his aura into the space around him, trying to feel the particles instead. Still, nothing responded. It was as if he were reaching into a void.

  His frustration grew.

  A few seats away, Orion was having the same problem. “This is… harder than I thought,” he muttered. He clenched his hands, sending a pulse of energy outward, but it dispersed aimlessly, failing to form anything solid.

  Callan furrowed his brow, attempting to condense the air into a small sphere. A faint mist appeared for a brief moment, but it quickly evaporated before taking shape.

  Lysandra, ever determined, was one of the closest to succeeding. A thin, green smoke began to form before her, swirling as she tried to force it into a structure. But before it could solidify, it flickered and vanished.

  She exhaled sharply, clearly irritated.

  Ethan clenched his jaw. No matter how much he focused, how much he directed his aura, the particles refused to respond.

  Professor Orlan observed their struggles with a calm, knowing expression. After several more minutes of failed attempts, he finally spoke.

  “This is the nature of this technique,” he said. “Most Virgo aura users cannot do this. It requires not just power, but an innate precision that few possess.”

  A wave of quiet disappointment spread through the class.

  Ethan released a slow breath, staring at his empty hands.

  So… he had failed.

  Orlan’s voice cut through the silence. “That does not mean you should give up. Mastery takes time. Some of you may develop the ability later, through dedicated practice.” His gaze softened slightly. “For now, you are dismissed. Reflect on today’s lesson and what it has taught you.”

  The students, still processing their failure, slowly began to gather their things.

  Ethan lingered for a moment, staring at his hands once more before standing up.

  He hadn’t expected to fail so completely.

  But something in his gut told him—this wasn’t the end.

  The Academy’s cafeteria was a massive hall, its high ceilings adorned with floating orbs of soft light. Long tables stretched across the room, filled with students from different houses, engaged in conversation and laughter. The smell of roasted meats, fresh bread, and fragrant soups filled the air.

  Ethan, Callan, and Orion sat together at one of the tables near the middle of the hall.

  “I still can’t believe none of us managed it,” Orion said, stabbing a piece of meat with his fork. “You’d think after all the things we’ve pulled off, we’d be able to make one tiny insect.”

  Callan shook his head. “Professor Orlan said most Virgo users can’t.”

  Ethan, resting his chin on his hand, let their words drift past him. He wasn’t used to outright failure. He had always found a way to succeed, whether through intelligence, persistence, or sheer luck. But today had been different.

  Before he could dwell on it too much, a familiar voice interrupted their table.

  “Well, this is a surprise.”

  Ethan looked up to see Lysandra, along with Seraphina, Evelynn, and Mirielle, standing beside them.

  Lysandra raised an eyebrow. “Are these seats taken?”

  Orion smirked. “They are, but for you? We’ll make an exception.”

  Lysandra rolled her eyes but took a seat next to Callan, with her friends following suit.

  Immediately, whispers rippled through the cafeteria.

  “Is that Lady Lysandra sitting with commoners?”

  “That’s Seraphina Vaelith, isn’t it? Why is she with them?”

  Ethan ignored the murmurs, but he could feel the weight of the stares.

  The group, however, didn’t seem to mind.

  Evelynn sipped from her goblet, unfazed. “You’d think we committed a crime with the way they’re gawking.”

  Seraphina, ever composed, only glanced at the other tables before dismissing them entirely.

  Mirielle, however, looked mildly annoyed. “Some people just love to gossip.”

  Callan leaned back in his seat. “They’ll get over it.”

  The conversation soon drifted to lighter topics—training techniques, upcoming Academy events, and amusing stories from their past lessons.

  Lysandra, despite her usual sharp demeanor, seemed more at ease than usual. Even Seraphina, who typically kept her distance, was engaging in discussion with Callan about historical battle tactics.

  It was a strange but oddly enjoyable dynamic.

  That was—until Darius walked by.

  Darius, flanked by a few Aries students, had been passing through when he noticed Lysandra seated at the table.

  He stopped.

  Then, with a smirk curling his lips, he couldn’t resist.

  “I didn’t know you liked to mix with commoners, Lady Lysandra.”

  The words were casual, but the condescension was unmistakable.

  The surrounding whispers grew louder, students waiting to see how she would respond.

  Lysandra didn’t even blink.

  She turned her gaze toward Darius and, in a perfectly cool tone, said:

  “Better commoners than fools.”

  Darius’s smirk faltered for a brief second before his expression hardened.

  Orion, grinning, leaned forward. “Oh, this is getting good.”

  Darius ignored him, his sharp gaze locked on Lysandra. “I’m just saying, it’s a bit disappointing. I thought you had higher standards.”

  Lysandra sighed, taking a slow sip from her goblet before placing it down. Then, she tilted her head slightly, giving Darius the kind of unimpressed look one might give a particularly annoying insect.

  “And I thought Aries prided itself on strength,” she said, her voice laced with subtle amusement. “Yet here you are—picking fights with people over where they sit.”

  A few students gasped.

  Even Evelynn smirked.

  Darius’s jaw clenched, but before he could fire back, one of his fellow Aries students grabbed his arm, murmuring something about it “not being worth it.”

  With a final glare in Ethan’s direction—because, of course, he couldn’t ignore him—Darius scoffed and walked off.

  As soon as he was gone, Orion let out a dramatic exhale. “Lysandra, that was—beautiful.”

  Lysandra rolled her eyes. “He’s not worth my time.”

  Ethan, watching the exchange, smirked slightly but said nothing.

  The tension gradually faded, and they continued their meal without further interruptions.

  A Mysterious Warning

  After finishing dinner, Ethan and Orion returned to their dorm. The halls of the Academy were quieter at this hour, the soft glow of magical lanterns illuminating their path.

  Ethan stretched as they entered their room. “Today was… interesting.”

  Orion flopped onto his bed, yawning. “Tell me about it. At this rate, we’re going to be the most talked-about group in the Academy.”

  Ethan chuckled before making his way toward the window, opening it slightly to let in the night air.

  That was when Solis jumped through.

  Ethan blinked. “Where have you been?”

  The twin-tailed cat landed gracefully, his silver eyes gleaming. “Elsewhere.”

  Ethan narrowed his eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

  Solis flicked his tail, clearly not interested in elaborating. Instead, his gaze locked onto Ethan’s.

  “Tonight,” Solis said, his voice quieter but firm. “Stay up.”

  Ethan didn’t ask anything more. He simply nodded.

  Ethan leaned against the window, his mind now filled with far more pressing concerns than anything that had happened earlier.