And so few weeks passed at the academy.
There not really interesting event yang terjadi di minggu minggu itu, just some kelas, some are interesting and some are boring honestly, but well i need to learn everything to survive the scenario.
The morning assembly was louder than usual.
Students crowded the grand hall of Vermillion Academy, standing in clusters as chatter buzzed like a swarm of insects. Whispers of rivalry, gossip, and wild theories danced through the air. I stood near the edge of the hall, arms crossed, letting the noise wash over me like background static.
Another day. Another pointless gathering.
Headmaster Alistair Vermil stood on the raised platform, his regal presence silencing the crowd with nothing more than a glance. His crimson robes shimmered faintly under the sunlight pouring through the stained glass.
"Silence"
He said, his voice clear and calm.
"I will keep this brief."
The hall fell deathly still.
"In two weeks, your first practical exams will begin. A test of your magical proficiency, combat ability, and strategic application. Performance will influence your standing, not only within your year, but in the Academy as a whole."
A wave of tension rippled through the room. Some students stiffened. Others exchanged nervous glances. I simply closed my eyes.
Expected.
Alistair continued.
"You are to prepare accordingly. Faculty will observe all training sessions starting today. Dismissed."
The moment he left the stage, the room erupted into noise again.
Exams, huh. So it's already time for that, it's a good chance to gauge just how much or little progress these people had made.
I stood and exited the hall, ignoring the buzz of conversation around me. Behind me, I caught a familiar voice.
"Heh, finally something interesting. Hope they let us go wild."
Cedric Eisenhart. Loud as ever.
"Try not to get expelled, musclehead," Ardan replied dryly.
I kept walking.
There was something else I needed to do. Magic, especially the theoretical side, was still a weak point for me. The System help me a lot sure. But there are limits to how i should depends on the system.
I'm still not sure I can trust the system, everything is still confusing for me.
It was time to make use of the Academy's resources.
Time to visit the library.
...
The eastern wing was quieter, almost unnaturally so. Sunlight filtered through high windows, casting patterns on the stone floor as I approached the massive double doors of the library.
I pushed them open.
Silence greeted me.
Rows of towering shelves stretched far into the distance, casting long shadows over polished floors. Floating orbs of light drifted lazily above, illuminating sections of books. It felt like stepping into another world, ancient, untouched.
I moved toward the central desk.
There, seated behind a mountain of open books, was a student.
Slender and slightly hunched forward, she absentmindedly pushed up her thin-framed glasses, her shoulder-length violet hair falling in soft, uneven strands around her face. Her amber eyes gleamed with focus as she scribbled notes furiously, lost in thought. Her uniform was neat but slightly askew, as if hastily thrown on in the morning. Despite her studious demeanor, there was an undeniable sweetness to her expression—an awkward charm that made her all the more endearing.
I cleared my throat.
"Looking for texts on advanced spell theory. Specifically, mana flow manipulation."
The student didn't look up.
"You're late."
I raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"You should've come earlier if you wanted those texts. A class reserved them this afternoon. Try Shelf C, third row—if you're lucky."
Still not looking up. Still scribbling.
Huh.
"Thanks… I guess."
As I turned to leave, I glanced at her name tag.
Iris.
No last name. Just like Lyria.
Something about her felt familiar. But I couldn't place it.
I shrugged it off.
...
The bookshelves loomed over me like silent sentinels, each row packed tightly with tomes ranging from pristine to nearly crumbling. Dust motes danced in the filtered light as I traced my fingers along the spines, searching.
Shelf C, third row.
I found it easily enough, thankfully.
Titles written in old script lined the shelf: Foundations of Arcane Channels, Theory of Flow: A Treatise on Mana Veins, Elemental Interference in Structured Casting. I pulled a few, skimming the pages.
Dense. Technical. But manageable.
My eyes caught on a worn book near the bottom.
The Manipulation of Mana Through Non-Traditional Pathways.
Now that sounded useful.
I sat at a nearby table, cracking open the cover. Faintly, the scent of old parchment hit me, sharp and dry. As I flipped through diagrams of mana circuits and annotations, I started to piece it together.
Mana flow wasn't just about power—it was about direction, about efficiency. About control.
The System gave me raw access to spells, sure. But understanding why they worked could help me push beyond simple mimicry. Maybe even exploit it.
I didn't hear the footsteps until a shadow fell over the table.
"Careful with that"
Iris said, arms crossed, eyes locked on the book like a hawk.
"That copy's two centuries old. Mishandle it, and I'm filing a report."
I looked up at her.
"I didn't break it."
"Yet."
I raised an eyebrow.
"You always this welcoming to people trying to learn?"
Her gaze narrowed, as if sizing me up.
"Depends"
She stepped closer, eyes darting to the open pages.
"You're not doing the equation right. Mana flow isn't linear, it cycles. You need to account for reabsorption."
She picked up my quill without asking, scribbling corrections in the margin.
Her handwriting was small, precise, almost mechanical.
I studied the notes, then glanced at her.
"You're obsessed with this."
"I'm dedicated"
She corrected, finally meeting my gaze for more than a second.
"There's a difference."
"Uh, sure?"
This girl sure love researching huh, wonder why she not in Vermillion class honestly, i can see one strip on her uniform so I'm sure we in the same year.
I leaned back.
"You a mage?"
She nodded.
"Aren't all of the students here is a mage?"
Ah right, technically she right, class system only exist in the game but technically everyone here is a mage, but they have different way to use magic.
But wait, why i have class even though it's unknown for now? Is it because i have system?
"Right."
Iris didn't react. Just turned and walked back toward the desk, leaving me with annotated pages and a vague sense of familiarity I couldn't shake.
She really feels similar but I'm pretty sure she not important character from the game, just nameless extra but I don't know why i really feel like i know her.
...
The book was dense, filled with graphs, equations, and theoretical constructs that most students wouldn't touch without supervision.
But that was fine.
I wasn't most students.
Core Overload theory revolved around compressing mana within the body to exponentially increase spell output, at the cost of burning yourself out, or worse, detonating your own core.
Iris who for whatever reason helped me, had chosen this book for a reason.
She wanted to see if I could handle it.
And I would.
By the time I hit the midpoint of the book, my notes had doubled. Pages filled with mana flow diagrams and compression sequences littered the table.
Footsteps approached from behind.
Too heavy. Too deliberate.
I didn't need to look.
"Still pretending to be a scholar, Tristan?"
Damien's voice slithered into my ears like poison wrapped in silk.
I kept writing.
No reaction.
He hated that for sure.
"You'll hurt yourself if you try to act above your station"
He continued, circling the table like a predator.
Iris glanced up from another aisle, eyes flicking toward him with visible disinterest.
"Noise levels should be kept low in the library"
She said flatly.
Damien raised an eyebrow, smirking.
"And you are?"
"Iris. Librarian."
"…Huh."
He turned to me again, ignoring her.
"You must be desperate if you're begging help from a no-name bookworm."
Iris stood up, calmly walking to our table. Her expression hadn't changed.
"I cataloged your past spellcasting records"
She flipped open a small notebook.
"Your accuracy rate is below standard. In both fire and lightning disciplines."
Damien blinked.
"What—?"
"Your mana channeling efficiency is suboptimal. You waste 18% of your output. Perhaps you should study more."
The silence that followed was glorious.
Even I had to pause, just to savor it.
Damian's expression darkened, but he forced a chuckle.
"Know your place, librarian."
Iris tilted her head, unfazed.
"I do. Do you?"
His smile faltered.
Two other students come to the library and berjalan mendekati Damien, his followers i guess? The type that barked when ordered and smiled when told. I recognized them from House Altrhrone's inner circle. Their presence wasn't random.
He wanted a show.
"You know, little brother… you're drawing attention."
Iris looked up again but didn't speak. She merely observed, eyes like glass.
"Beating Eisenhart? Talking back to Valkrad? Skipping social gatherings with the other nobles?"
Damien's voice full of hatred.
"People are starting to wonder if something's wrong with you."
Still, I said nothing.
He leaned closer.
"Keep going like this, and you'll find yourself isolated. Weak. Easy to discard."
I finally looked up, eyes meeting his.
"That a threat?"
He smiled, too wide.
"Just advice. As your brother, I feel responsible for you. I'd hate to see you fall from grace."
I stood slowly, the chair scraping the floor just enough to make him pause.
"I wasn't aware I had any grace left"
I said.
"According to you atleast,I never did."
His smirk tightened, almost cracking.
"I'm trying to help you, Tristan. Our father won't protect you forever."
Good.
I didn't want protection.
I wanted freedom.
"You should really think about your next steps, Tristan."
I didn't respond.
"Because if you keep walking this path, challenging me, drawing attention you won't just be stepping on toes. You'll be stepping on legacy. On the reputation of House Altrhrone."
He glanced at Iris, who stared back impassively, then shifted his gaze back to me, eyes cold.
"And when that happens… I won't be able to protect you anymore."
The mockery in his voice vanished with that last line. It was quiet. Low. Dead serious.
He was no longer just playing.
He was warning me.
I met his gaze, unreadable.
"I don't need your protection."
Damian chuckled under his breath, almost pitying.
"No. You need to know your place."
Then he left, the echo of his boots fading into the silence of the library, leaving a tension that lingered long after he was gone.
And I wasn't going to wait for it.
Let him come.
Let them all come.
I was ready.
Iris calmly adjusted her glasses, closing her notebook.
"I'm not expecting you keep track of second-years"
She finally looked up, blinking like it was obvious.
"Of course. The Academy's practical exams are standardized across the years. Performance reports are available for study."
I leaned back in my chair.
This girl…
Iris finally spoke again, voice flat.
"…He's unpleasant."
I raised an eyebrow.
"That's one way to put it."
Her eyes narrowed, flicking between me and the now-empty doorway.
"Are you… in danger?"
I smirked.
"No more than usual."
She didn't smile back. Just nodded once and returned to her book.
But I could feel her curiosity growing, just like the storm Damian was about to unleash.