Strange Student (2)

In the vast open space of the Academy's ground floor, silence reigned.

Not a single student, teacher, or even a janitor in sight.

Just two unfortunate souls, armed with brooms, sentenced to the most humiliating punishment imaginable—cleaning the entire Academy ground.

Elijah gave the broom an experimental swipe, watching a single leaf flutter lazily an inch away. He sighed dramatically. "White Tower Academy is really big, huh… You think we'll finish this before graduation?"

"Fuck..." Victoria groaned, dragging the broom across the ground like it personally offended her. "My arms are already killing me."

"Language, Princess."

"..."

Before long, the main doors burst open, and students flooded out.

Whispers filled the air.

"Hey, isn't that them?"

"Yeah... the ones who got scolded on the very first day."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk… how shameful. To think even the princess..."

Victoria buried her face in the broom handle, whining aloud, and her entire existence burned with secondhand embarrassment.

"I wanna die."

Yet, Elijah, completely unfazed, whistled a merry tune as he continued sweeping. "Now, now, Princess. No time for existential crises. We have leaves to vanquish."

"Can you not call me that?"

"But how could I, a lowly baron under your rule, dare to address you informally?" Elijah replied with a dramatic bow, obviously teasing her at this point.

"Shut. It."

"Well, Princess," he continued, dodging a half-hearted swing of her broom, "if you keep slacking off, we might miss our first class."

Victoria froze. "What?!" She turned to him, panic-stricken. "We cannot miss the first class!"

"Hmm… Princess, you have expertise in wind magic, right?"

"Yeah…?"

His lips curled into a mischievous grin.

"I have an idea."

****

_____________

B rank Dungeon was spotted in Penimula Lake...

298 people died in the Dungeon outbreak...

A rank Dungeon was spotted in Eruseola Mountain....

A rank Dungeon was spotted in....

....

______________

The ink smudged under the weight of her fingers as Percival Winterhold pressed the newspaper against her desk.

Then, a tapping noise echoed through the quiet office as she drummed her fingers against the wooden plaque bearing her name.

[ Percival Winterhold || Headmaster ]

Her expression remained expressionless, yet the deep lines on her face spoke of exhaustion.

The news had been relentless, with each new headline seeming to tighten the invisible noose around her academy.

Just as she exhaled, ready to surrender to a rare moment of respite—

A voice broke through the silence.

"How long do we plan to keep pretending everything is fine?"

She didn't turn. She didn't need to.

The voice belonged to a young man standing near the door, his arms remained crossed, as a frown brew on his blue eyes. He had the same snow-white hair as the headmaster.

Pinned to his uniform, a diamond badge can be seen.

[ Lucian Winterhold || Class S ]

A deep, heavy pause lingered in the air as Percival remained silent.

Lucian's hands curled into fists, and his patience was razor-thin.

"So, what should we do?" he asked again in frustration. "Sooner or later, this country will be crawling with dungeons and Nightmares."

He inhaled, as if to steady himself, before adding,

"Are we really just going to stand by and watch? Hide behind the academy walls until it's too late?"

When the headmaster finally spoke, her tone was even more detached.

"The Academy prioritizes its students' growth and safety. External matters do not concern us."

Lucian scoffed, a bitter laugh slipping through his clenched teeth.

"Really? That's your answer? Despite father died... brother died... you still refuse to do anything."

"This is why..." His voice faltered, but only for a moment. "This is why I will never—" His grip on the doorknob tightened. "—never treat you as my mother."

The words remained hung up, with no further reply given.

Then, the door slammed shut.

For a moment, silence reclaimed the space.

Only then did Percival allow herself to sigh, setting the newspaper down in her trash.

She stood from her seat and stepped toward the window behind her desk, her gaze settled on the Academy grounds below.

The White Tower loomed in the distance, its walls reached toward the heaven above.

Her hand pressed against the glass as she murmured under her breath.

"White Tower Academy raises children, not weapons…"

"But even so... must we one day walk that path?"

Her reflection in the window remained stoic, but doubt flickered in her eyes.

Then—

BANG!

The door to her office burst open again, this time nearly flying off its hinges.

A frazzled instructor stumbled inside, panting as his face drenched in panic-induced sweat.

"Headmaster—! W-We have a problem!"

Percival's gaze snapped toward him, immediately on high alert.

"Report."

"T-The academy grounds—s-someone—!"

"What happened?"

The instructor gulped.

"S-SOMEONE CASTED A TORNADO SPELL."

Silence.

Percival blinked.

Her expression remained eerily composed… but a vein twitched at her temple.

"So? Why are you telling me? Disciplinary Committee can't handle punishing a student?"

The instructor paled. "N-No, Headmaster, i-it's not that—" He swallowed hard before pausing. "I-It b-broke through the barrier."

Percival stared at him.

Completely bamboozled.

"Excuse me. It did what?"