[Vanessa’s POV]
Back to a few minutes ago.
There were several reasons Vanessa had chosen the Noble Etiquette elective — so were rational, and so perhaps bordering on obsession.
But mainly, it was personal.
Though the world had long stripped her of noble standing, noble blood still coursed through her veins.
She was still an Eldrienne.
That truth had not vanished simply because society decreed otherwise. And so, despite knowing how foolish it was — despite knowing this path could only invite ridicule and old wounds — so stubborn, prideful part of her refused to relinquish what she believed was still hers by birthright.
Then, secondly... there was Julian Rozenberg.
Ever since the joint training session between Class A and Class E, she had been unable to forget him. Their first encounter had awakened sothing deep within her sharpened senses.
With her unnatural sensitivity to scent and spiritual traces, Vanessa had sensed a faint yet deeply sinister mana coiling around Julian — an alien, corrupted presence that made her blood run cold.
And she recognized it.
It was the sa unnatural mana she had once felt during that incident.
The sa dreadful on entwined with the downfall of House Eldrienne — why her family had been stripped of nobility, branded, and led to their executions.
Yet after that day, Julian had remained frustratingly out of reach.
She had found no chance to approach him, no chance to confirm whether what she sensed was real... or whether fate was cruelly dragging her back toward the truth she had spent years chasing.
That was why, when even the slightest chance arose to get closer to Julian, she seized it without hesitation.
It was why she had willingly stepped forward to take the bla for so unknown scholar who had carelessly dirtied Julian’s clothes.
Not out of kindness, never rely that, but because opportunity had presented itself... she would not let it slip away, of course.
But as she approached Julian...
As she stood within his presence once more...
She felt that familiar dark mana.
And that dark mana surrounding him was stronger this ti. Though, she sohow believed that strong dark mana was still restrained, hidden beneath layers of suppression.
But how could she know that? Well, to simply put, she could sense that it still leaked through in faint currents — coming from his body.
No, to be exact, coming from behind his clothes.
Vanessa’s eyes trembled slightly.
’But why... it’s becoming stronger.’
Why did the scent beco thicker?
Truthfully, it had been powerful during their first encounter in the joint training session, strong enough to leave a deep impression for her.
But during the Noble Etiquette class, that sinister presence had seed weaker, almost faded as though it was slowly dissipating.
But now, standing this close to him again, she realized it had returned.
And the more she sensed it, the more a dreadful certainty began to creep into her heart that Julian Rozenberg was far more deeply connected to that forgotten nightmare than she had first feared.
"No answer?" Julian shrugged.
Hearing that, Vanessa forced herself back to the present.
"Ha, then allow to offer one for you."
Julian t her gaze, and without raising his voice, he issued his decree...
"Kneel."
Vanessa’s brows twitched slightly, but inwardly she exhaled.
’...Well, I already managed to learn what I wanted.’
For now, she could endure whatever absurd humiliation Julian chose to impose. It was ridiculous, yes, but provoking this any further would only invite greater trouble. Better to comply, take what she ca for, and leave this confrontation here.
But just as she steeled herself, another voice sliced through the tension.
"That’s enough."
Vanessa turned slightly, only to freeze in alarm.
It was her squad leader for the Vazrun Island trial, Lady Rosalin.
A wave of panic nearly struck her on the spot.
’No... no, no. Please do not interfere, Lady Rosalin.’
Her thoughts raced at once.
This was the worst possible developnt. If Rosalin stepped into this now, this little dispute could swell into sothing far uglier. And that would be disastrous.
Not only for this mont, but for what awaited them ahead.
Because the Vazrun Island test was fast approaching.
If they made enemies here, who knew how that hostility might return once the trial began. There, grudges would not remain re social friction.
They could potentially turn into sabotage!
And Julian’s followers were notorious throughout the academy for exactly that sort of cruelty.
Bullying, sabotage, and even isolation.
If both she and Rosalin ended up on Julian’s bad side, the consequences for their entire squad during Vazrun Island could be catastrophic.
’Sorry, Lady Rosalin... but please, stay where you are.’
Without hesitation, Vanessa silently invoked a spell.
[Telekinesis]
A faint pulse of mana moved.
Rosalin abruptly halted mid-step, her body locking in place as confusion spread across her face, unable to advance another inch.
Vanessa almost winced.
’Forgive !’
But desperate tis called for desperate asures, and if restraining her own squad leader for a mont was what it took to prevent disaster, then so be it.
With that, Vanessa quietly kneeled.
Julian seed almost amused by her compliance. His lips curved faintly before he continued his lofty rambling.
"Well then, since courage seems contagious today, is there anyone else eager to step forward for those two as well?"
For a breath, silence ruled.
Then, as though the hall itself had responded to his provocation... Calyra rose.
*****
[Julian’s POV]
The mont Julian saw Calyra rise from her seat, he slowly turned toward her, his gaze sharpening into a cold glare.
Calyra t it without the slightest retreat. Her own stare was just as piercing, just as severe, as though neither intended to yield even a fraction.
She said nothing.
Well, honestly, she did not need to.
The pressure around her already spoke in her place. Power seeped from her like the slow gathering of an incoming blizzard, heavy and ominous.
The atmosphere grew suffocating.
Even the spectators seed to feel it.
Yet Julian only smiled.
’Ah... it appears I have earned the displeasure of Her Frosted Majesty.’
His grin deepened, almost delighted.
’Well, fine.’
’I would have it no other way.’
With that, Julian shifted his weight, barely perceptible. His posture adjusted, shoulders angling, one foot repositioning itself across the marble.
He was also prepared to engage.
The tension climbed... mana thickening, sparks of lightning gathering in the air.
It was a mont on the cusp, the pause before complete chaos.
But just as the tension reached its peak...
Suddenly...
A voice entered the silence with such shocking boldness.
"How noble..." ( 50PP)
The words were calm, almost indifferent, and the disrespect behind them was impossible to miss.
The voice was not loud, nor forceful in the slightest.
And the strange part was that it could still be heard clearly, as if the voice was placed right into everyone’s ears.
The sound spread across the hall, as conversations slowly stopped one by one.
The scholars began searching for who... for who was out of their mind would dare to say such a thing!
Yet, even as the hall fell silent and eyes searched for the source, the voice continued.
"The illustrious heir of House Rozenberg... Velthia’s finest, the top seat of first first-year scholars, or so they claim, seems to be reduced to a re spectacle, throwing a fit before the crowd..."
"Ha. What. A joke of the century." ( 200PP)
"Seriously... is this what passes for dignity these days among the Rozenbergs?" ( 200PP)
’What?’
’Who the hell dared to say that...?’
Julian’s mana remained perfectly stable, controlled as always.
But his expression slowly stiffened.
Slowly, he turned his head until it found the owner of that voice.
Two tables away from him, sat a dark-haired scholar who looked completely unconcerned by what he had just said.
Instead of showing fear...
Instead of facing Julian while talking...
That scholar slowly rotated a glass of pogranate juice in his hand.
Staring unbotheredly at the red liquid that moved inside the glass as it reflected the warm light of the chandeliers above.
Julian observed him carefully, expecting hesitation, expecting regret, expecting the mont where the scholar would realize the serious mistake he had just made.
But nothing appeared.
The scholar calmly raised the glass to his lips and drank the juice.
"Hmm? Why so quiet now?" he said, sounding almost curious. "Go on. I thought all that barking would not tire you." ( 100PP)
The insult was extrely direct, and the calm tone only made it feel more offensive.
Julian could sense the surrounding scholars becoming completely silent.
Everyone was dumbfounded!
Completely stunned!
Because one spoke to Julian in that way.
Absolutely no one!
’The fuck... did he just said?’
Julian felt a small twitch in his fingers.
Even the faint amusent that was once on his face vanished, replaced by sothing much colder.
He fully turned toward that scholar now, giving him his complete attention.
Soon after, that dark-haired scholar finally stood up from his seat, moving slowly without showing any sign of nervousness. The chair behind him slid lightly across the floor before he gently placed the glass onto the table.
Even his teammates around him looked so surprised, clearly not expecting such fearless action. ( 200PP)
As the scholar finally walked towards him, Julian watched him closely, and noticed how steady his expression was.
"Hey, Julian... is this really the grand asure of your pride? Like seriously, all of this crusade rely over a spilled broth?"
The scholar slightly smiled.
"Honestly, I’m kind of disappointed to see how overly dramatic our top scholar is."
He let out a quiet, weary sigh.
"Though, if this is really the sum of your worth..."
"Then I guess... the so-called esteed heir of Rozenberg is nothing but a spineless cur." ( 3000PP)
──────── ✦ ────────
[Chapter 136: Chaos in the Dining Hall (5)]
Plot Points= 22,200
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