The Dinner Table

After the conversation, they went to the dining room.

The grand chandelier above cast golden light across the long dining hall, glimmering faintly against the silver utensils and polished surfaces. 

The table was draped in dark crimson, the same hue as the Verallis family crest. 

By the standards of nobility, the setting was modest — ornate, yes, but not gaudy. 

The air smelled faintly of roasted meat and spiced wine, a delicacy enjoyed in this household.

Lucien sat stiffly at his seat, trying to mimic whatever poise and grace a nobleman was expected to have, even if the effort felt as unnatural as speaking a new language. 

Arcturus sat at the end of the table with his cold, regal demeanor. 

Lucien's mother, Lady Elira Verallis, sat on the opposite end. 

Elegant, poised, and draped in a flowing navy gown lined with sapphire embroidery, she was the only softness in the room. 

Her golden hair was braided into a dignified bun, and her smile — though faint — never quite reached her eyes. 

A lady sculpted by court etiquette and years of noble diplomacy, Elira was warmth wrapped in layers of ice.

And then, there was her.

Sitting quietly between them, with her silverware clutched delicately, was Lucien's younger sister: Celestria Verallis. 

Only fifteen, she already bore the eerie, refined beauty of the Verallis bloodline. 

Silverish-blonde hair framed her heart-shaped face, and her wide violet eyes held a depth beyond her years. 

Her expression was calm — almost too calm for a teenager but it shifted slightly as she glanced at Lucien.

"Will… will you be okay at the Academy?" she asked, breaking the silence with her soft voice. 

The question startled him more than the words themselves.

Lucien blinked.

He had no clue how the real Lucien used to treat her. 

From the little he remembered in the game, the noble families were not exactly loving households. 

Older siblings either ignored their younger ones or treated them like pawns for marriage alliances. 

But there was a softness in her voice that suggested she might have looked up to him — or at least, hoped to.

He chose to smile.

It wasn't a wide grin, but enough to seem genuine. 

"Of course. I'll be fine," he said, reaching out and gently stroking her hair.

Celestria's eyes widened, and a faint blush crept into her cheeks. 

She looked away quickly, biting her lower lip. 

"That's a first…" she mumbled.

Lucien chuckled softly, earning a quiet laugh from Lady Elira. 

The mood lightened briefly — almost like an actual family. 

Even Arcturus looked marginally less carved from granite.

Celestria huffed. "You're acting weird. What did you do to my brother?"

That earned a burst of laughter from Elira. 

"Celestria, don't tease your brother. He's just anxious about the Academy. It's natural."

"I'm not teasing!" she protested, puffing her cheeks slightly. "He's just… he's never been this nice."

Lucien rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to look too awkward. "Maybe I've turned over a new leaf."

"Or fallen and hit your head," Valen muttered from the opposite end of the table.

The mood soured immediately.

Lucien didn't answer right away. He held Valen's gaze.

If there was ever a true villain in the story, it was this man. 

And not just because the game painted him as such. 

Lucien knew that Valen was capable of things far worse than what the first game showed. 

He had sacrificed civilians, manipulated kingdoms, and twisted laws in the name of power. 

But more than that, he was cunning. 

Smart enough to be two steps ahead of every faction and ruthless enough to burn every bridge.

In the first game, Valen had secretly handed the protagonist the means to destroy House Verallis. 

He was playing a game within a game, and Lucien? He had been a disposable pawn in that scheme.

Who had died in the end…

And now he sat just three chairs away.

"Lucien," Arcturus's voice broke through the tension like a blade slicing silk. "I know I mentioned it before expect a Verallis to uphold his dignity. The Academy is not a playground."

Lucien straightened, nodding. "Understood."

Arcturus gave him a long, unreadable stare before continuing. "The academy is home to heirs of all noble houses. The future of the Empire — mages, knights, rulers in waiting. You'll be expected to represent our name."

Lucien resisted the urge to sigh. 

That part he remembered from the game — Astralis Arcana, a sprawling campus the size of a small city, with nine towers corresponding to the nine schools of magic. 

It was where the protagonist first met all the major characters, unlocked key quests, and unraveled the conspiracy behind the fall of the old world.

Lucien's version of the Academy, however, had been short-lived. 

The original Lucien barely survived the first semester before things went downhill. 

His bad reputation and cruel treatment of his fiancées isolated him, and he became an easy target for both political enemies and angry classmates.

"About my enrollment," Lucien began cautiously, "I'll need to review the class placements. I…"

"You'll be enrolled under the Frost Dominion," Arcturus interrupted. "You are a Verallis. Ice runs through your veins. You will prove it."

Of course. The Frost Dominion.

That was his school of magic: Ice, known for its brutal offense and unyielding defense. 

Elegant, cold, and deadly. 

Unfortunately, Lucien's original self had only relied on basic spells and brute force. 

No creativity, no strategy — just cold blasts and intimidation. No wonder he was easy to beat.

He'd have to fix that.

Lady Elira set her goblet down gently. 

"Your fiancées are already second years in the Academy, I expect you not to treat them too bad.."

Lucien nearly choked on his wine.

The thought of meeting three of them? At once?

And not only that but he had to avoid them, they really didn't hold that much importance in his eyes…

What he was majorly concerned with were the Heroines, if he could somehow find a way to make them hate the Protagonist.

His new life would be far more easier.