Emil

  The award ceremony was short and simple.

  Emil was expecting a grander celebration, filled with the extravagant fanfare and lavish spectacles that he often encountered while passing by Upper Dannan. The Academy, however, elected for a more modest approach. Perhaps it was a calculated move since the excitement of the crowd more than made up for the lackluster presentation. Or more likely, the Academy had hedged its bets, partly expecting Emil to drop out of the finals after being stabbed in the back by Prince Rory.

  Regardless of the reasons, Emil found himself standing below Liesel on the podium in the center of the Nautilus stage. The Headmaster, Ivar von Tuatha, strolled up to them with a friendly smile.

  “Congratulations. That was an amazing show,” he said in a gentle voice that somehow rang with authority.

  Emil studied the man’s pudgy face. This was the gentleman standing at the helm of the most prodigious Academy in the kingdom. Just how much did he know of the horrors going around in Azure City? What about the death of Professor Callum at the hands of himself and Anna? Was he an accomplice to the continued existence of the Hidden Laboratories? Or just an unwilling pawn of the Council of Mana?

  Those questions spiraled in his head as Ivar bestowed the two of them with medals engraved in silver and gold.

  Reaching the finals of the Clash of Dawn marked a great achievement for his undercover mission. Now he had access to the Consortium, the biggest archive of information within the kingdom. His status as a finalist also gave him infamy amongst the Academy staff, which Emil hoped to leverage to find out more about the underbelly of Azure City.

  The end of this tournament was just the beginning of a long mission in this mysterious city.

  Emil sighed quietly, lamenting the work ahead of him before putting on his brightest smile. At Ivar’s prompt, he raised his hands to the crescendo of the audience’s cheers.

  His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  ***

  “You.”

  Emil turned around towards the rude address. It belonged to latest winner of the Clash of Dawn.

  The two of them were in the silent corridors of the Nautilus. The Academy staff had finally let them go after several hours of medical attention, interviews, and administrative work. Apparently, being the finalist of the Clash of Dawn came with its own set of obligations. Now that he had stepped into the spotlight, Emil was strongly encouraged to attend banquets and events held by the Academy.

  He had no intentions of doing that, of course.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Liesel was standing in the middle of the hall. Her eyes were glaringly cold, lacking the same joyous glee that she showed on stage.

  “You gave up.” Her voice was full of accusation, trembling with a hint of pain. “You were about to do something to overcome Niflheim, weren’t you? Why did you stop?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t lie to me!” Liesel suddenly yelled.

  She stomped towards him, frost blossoming at the soles of her feet. The ambient temperature of the hallway suddenly dropped.

  “I saw it. Your eyes. You had something up your sleeves, didn’t you? But then you suddenly lost interest. Your fighting spirit vanished! Why?! What happened?!”

  Damn, she caught me. Emil fought the urge to smirk. Instead, he shook his head, feigning ignorance.

  “Nothing. I simply realized that I couldn’t win.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Emil shrugged.

  “I see. You won’t tell me,” Liesel said, suddenly dispassionate. The pain in her eyes disappeared. Her gaze turned detached as she began to walk away with her usual regal air. As she passed by him, she whispered in his ears, “I won’t forget this. I will pry that secret out of you one day, Emil.”

  Emil stared at her fading back, wondering about the enigma that was the Ice Maiden of Belle.

  On the outside, she was majestic and formidable. A generational talent. An unapproachable treasure. A storm. Someone who was destined to reign at the top. On the inside, however, Emil could only see her as a child. A person who loved her Gift. An adolescent immersed in her desires. A kid in search of a toy that won’t break no matter how much she played with it.

  She appeared to be complex, but she was astonishingly simple-minded.

  For her, the Clash of Dawn must have been a playground. A sandbox to test her creativity and find like-minded peers. A place where she could clash against those who were also enamored with the thrill of competition. When Emil viewed her from that perspective, all of her provocative actions suddenly made sense.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  She’s disappointed in me, isn’t she?

  He smiled pensively. Suddenly, the side of his cheeks felt wet. Huh? His eyes blurred—the corridor of the Nautilus shimmered. It took him a second to realize, but he was crying.

  Wait, why?

  His body’s reaction confounded him. Confused, Emil missed the set of footsteps from the up the hall.

  “There you are.” It was Anna. Her expression was unexpectedly gentle. “Are you alright?”

  Startled by her sudden appearance, Emil tried to wipe the tears off his face. He didn’t want anyone to see how pathetic he was. No matter how much he tried, however, the waterworks refused to stop.

  “Sorry, I don’t know why, but I can’t—”

  “It’s okay.” Anna approached him slowly. “You really wanted to win, didn’t you?” Her voice was soft, but there was a weight to every word. “But then you lost. Not only that, but you weren’t able to fight with everything you had.”

  Her words were vague, but Emil understood. She was referring to Blaze. Anna was the sole person in this Academy who knew about his unique nature.

  “But I—”

  “It’s only normal to be sad, especially when you came up short after being so close. That just means how much this meant to you. It showed how much you wanted to win.”

  Emil’s first instinct was to fight back against her claim. When he thought about it, he had no legs to argue. He really did want to win against Liesel. He wanted to stand on the apex of that podium. He wanted the audience’s cheers for himself.

  Maybe it was greedy of him, but after living as an orphan festering at the bottom of this kingdom’s hierarchy for so long, he yearned to see what it was like at the top. Just once, he wanted the love, the attention, and the glory of being number one.

  So much so that he almost considered abandoning his mission. Abandoning Mia and Raz. The depths of his desires scared him. And yet, for his remaining family, he willingly threw it all away.

  In the corridors of the Nautilus, Emil stood there with Anna, silently grieving with bitterness.

  Petra

  As the final of the Clash of Dawn ended, evening arrived. A celebratory banquet was going to take place between all of the contestants and the elites in attendance.

  Petra remained perched atop of a roof in the First Sector, overseeing the perimeter of the Academy campus. A dense row of security personnel filled the premise compromised of Sentinels, the militia and mercenaries from the retinues of the elites, and warriors from House Lionheart—the protectors of the royal family. With a stacked line-up of Exalted and elite soldiers, the Academy was like an impregnable fortress.

  Even Petra had to keep her distance to ensure that she wouldn’t be noticed from the scrutiny.

  Doesn’t seem like anything is going to happen tonight.

  There was no way a small crew of Desperados could infiltrate the Academy with this many defenders around the premise.

  Petra frowned, perplexed.

  Was the banquet not the target of those foreigners then? Or was Emil just overreacting?

  She cursed herself for losing her lead last night. Since then, she hasn’t found a single sign of those foreigners and the people that they were conversing with.

  Out of options, she haphazardly went back to the restaurant where she found them last night.

  The streets of the Second Sector were packed, crowded with festivities celebrating and discussing the conclusion of the Clash of Dawn. Liesel’s name was mentioned numerous times, but the star of the show was Emil.

  His name was lavished in praise for managing to take down both Gaius and Prince Rory, who were formidable nobles with reputations of their own. His persistence was also commended for putting up a solid performance in the finals despite his injury from the prince. By the end of the tournament, he was the only one had managed to land a clean hit on the Ice Maiden. These achievements were spreading fast as the name “Emil Milligan” became etched in the conscious of the Azure City.

  The director’s plan for him is working. Petra thought as she made her way towards the restaurant. For a long time, Hortensia was searching for an agent that could access the upper echelons of the Ardair. Most of the existing Cleaners, however, were all misfits that she had scurried up from the bottom of society’s rungs. They were completely unsuited to infiltrate aristocratic society as they only had experience living as slum rats and miscreants. Emil, however, was the son of a wealthy merchant family prior to his fall from grace. Although his exposure was limited, he did have some experience living as a privileged member of society.

  Emil wasn’t aware of it, but his assignment to go undercover at the Academy served three purposes. One, there was his main objective of uncovering corruption and the abhorrent experiments of Azure City. The second purpose was to provide an environment for him to hone his Gifts. And lastly, it was to build his reputation as Emil Milligan such that he would be able to infiltrate and walk amongst the elites of Ardair society.

  Slowly but surely, all three purposes were beginning to take root.

  Petra finally arrived back at the restaurant. In front of the wooden doors was a sign, indicating that the shop was closed for business.

  Right, they did mention that they were closing for the next two days to do catering for the banquet.

  She stared at the doors, sifting through the intel that she had acquired over the past few days, unsure what to do next. Something about the restaurant, however, made her uneasy.

  Why did those foreigners come here anyways?

  They didn’t seem to be there to eat. Petra had asked the staff about them during her stay, and apparently, they had entered and left shortly after asking some questions.

  She didn’t understand their motive. On a whim, she walked up to the door and tried the knob. Loose.

  It’s open?

  She had a feeling something was up.

  Petra discreetly glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before entering. The inside of the restaurant was pitch-black, absent of last night’s cacophony. The stillness was eerie. Cautious, she channeled mana through the Azurite ring on her fingers. Under the dim blue light, she searched the restaurant.

  Nothing out of the ordinary.

  Except for the collection of fresh footprints on the floor.

  There was a group was here. Earlier in the day, perhaps? Likely the cooks. Or—

  She followed the footprints into the kitchen by the rear of the restaurant. The moment Petra stepped past the counter her nose itched, assaulted by a faint nauseating stench permeating the air. The smell was uncanny—one that Steiger field agents were all too familiar with. Alarms rose in her head as she rushed in, flashing the Azurite ring ahead of her to illuminate the lightless place.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake…”

  The floor of the kitchen was covered in corpses. Blood smeared the tables and walls. There were hints of damage and struggles left by bladed weapons. Petra flashed her Azurite light around, fighting to suppress the sinking pit in her stomach.

  They’ve been dead for at least a few hours now. She thought, noting the dried blood stains and the stench in the air. But why?

  The answer to her question suddenly became clear. As she moved closer to the bodies, she grimaced in horror. Each of the corpses had the skin on their faces stripped away, exposing the disturbing scarlet flesh beneath.

  Petra was suddenly reminded of an infiltration technique practiced in the east. It involved peeling away the skin of a human face and wearing it as a mask. Furthermore, there was a number of eccentric patrons dining in the restaurant when she arrived last night. One of them was mimicking the gestures of one of the chefs. Another was carefully trying to interrogate the details of the chef’s recipes amidst lavish praises and flattery.

  The banquet.

  They’ve infiltrated the banquet.

  Petra spun around and ran. She hoped she wasn’t too late.