He stayed there, a statue carved from disbelief.

The crowd of students, once a buzzing hive of excitement, had thinned out, their chatter fading down the long, bright corridors.

One by one, they left for their new classrooms to see how it looked, their new buildings, the start of their new lives. But Azrael didn't move. He just stood there, his eyes locked on the glowing projection, on the name that felt like a death sentence.

On the other side of the hall, Selyne was also standing alone. Her mother had given her a quick, formal nod before parting ways, vanishing into the stream of faculty members.

She was alone. She wanted to make friends, to talk to someone, but she couldn't find the courage. Her eyes scanned the few remaining students until they landed on a familiar figure.

Azrael. The only person she knew here.

She saw the look on his face. It was an expression of pure, hollow shock, as if his soul had been scooped out, leaving an empty shell behind.

He was standing in front of the board for Class 1-A, the top class, the one everyone dreamed of getting into.

'Oh,' she thought, a small, sad smile touching her lips. 'He must have wanted to get into the top class. But he failed.'

She let out a slow, quiet laugh, a sound of pity. Then the memory of the previous night slammed into her the half-open door, the sounds, the horrified faces of the servants. Her laugh died in her throat.

'Right. I should probably talk to him about that first. Apologize for being so weird.'

She took a hesitant step, then another, until she was standing just behind him.

"Umm… Az-Azrael?" she said, her voice barely a whisper. "You look… you look too sad."

He didn't react. He was lost in his own world of silent horror.

She tried again, a little louder this time. "Don't feel sad about it! These classes change every year. You can join Class A next year! Well, of course, if you perform well. I mean… yes! I believe in you. You will!"

He just turned his head slowly. He didn't say a word. He just lifted a trembling hand and pointed. Pointed to a name halfway down the glowing list of Class 1-A.

His name.

She followed his finger, her own eyes widening as she read the name. Azrael Ashveil.

"That's the problem," he said, his voice a low, dead thing.

Selyne stared, her mind struggling to connect the pieces. She looked from his name to his devastated face, then back to his name.

"What?" she finally managed to say, her voice rising in confusion. "Then what's the problem?"

"You don't get it?" he said, finally looking at her. "This stupid class is the problem! How can I be in that? I never gave the entrance test. I never did the aura assessment. How? Who the hell is behind this?"

-- -- --

In the Headmistress's office, a grand room with a view that overlooked the entire academy, a man sneezed.

"Achuu!. Looks like someone is cursing me."

Quill Var Emreis sat behind a massive, ornate desk, reviewing and signing applications. A huge pile of them sat in a neat stack to his left, and an equally large pile of signed ones sat to his right.

He was also multitasking, his golden eyes flicking between the papers and a holographic projection of the speech he was supposed to deliver at the entrance ceremony.

The Headmistress's assistant, a sharp-eyed half elf with an even sharper tongue, placed another stack of documents on his desk. "Vice Headmaster," she said, her voice dripping with pity, "the Headmistress did you dirty. You just fell right into her trap."

He laughed, a short, humorless sound.

Pss.

"You're wrong here. If reviewing these applications and delivering a speech is the cost for my disciple, then it's just a small sacrifice."

The assistant looked confused. "So that request… to change the class assignment for one student… that was your doing?"

She leaned forward, her voice dropping. "But that's something Headmistress Liliana would never do without getting something in return. In exchange for this, she definitely has some other benefit."

Quill laughed again, looking at the speech notes. "What benefit will she get from just placing my disciple higher? Haha… wait." His laughter stopped. His eyes narrowed.

'Isn't she planning on taking over my disciple's heart using one of her students? The one who is supposed to be in the same class? No way. I won't let her.'

He thought for a moment. 'Speaking of which, my nephew is young, adorable, and cute.' Then he remembered her brutal fighting style, her love for causing accidents. 'Well, just slightly cute. But she is. And she is a class senior, too.'

His mind began to spin, a new, brilliant plan forming. If he could do something to get those two close, then…

He imagined Azrael and his nephew, side-by-side. Then, he imagined Celestria and himself, at a wedding. It was a perfect picture.

'Perfect couple,' he thought, a secret, triumphant smile on his face. 'Both women a year ahead. And, of course, both will be in the same family. I should start my preparations.'

His beautiful, intricate daydream was shattered by the assistant's voice. "Sir, it's time for the entrance ceremony. And you will be leading it today."

He straightened up, his cold, formal mask snapping back into place. "Fine. Let's go."

-- -- --

"Okay, so, same suggestion, but reverse it this time," Selyne said, a bright, helpful smile on her face. "Do so badly this year that you get demoted to a lower class!"

"That's the point," Azrael said, his voice grim. "I think I won't survive till next year."

Hearing that, she laughed, a loud, genuine sound that echoed in the empty hall. He watched her, a small, bitter smile on his own face.

'If Kaelen is not in this class, then what about the heroines? His harem?' He looked up at the high, vaulted ceiling. 'Please, God, no more pain. I'm tired.'

"By the way, Azrael," Selyne said, her voice suddenly hesitant.

"I wanted to say—" she paused, taking a deep breath. Then, in a single, rushed breath, "I wanted to say forget about what happened last night!"

He looked at her and smiled. "What last night?"

She looked confused. "Well, last night! Just… forget everything that happened!"

"Yeah, what happened?" he said, his face a mask of innocence. He thought, 'Is she this stupid? She can't even get my humor.'

She said again, in another rushed breath, "When you saw me peeping at that dirty scene!"

He played along, seeing her naivety. "What dirty scene?"

"That thing Lita and Paul were doing!" she said, her face turning bright red.

Then she realized. "Wait… Azrael, are you okay? You don't remember anything? Did the shock of seeing yourself in Class A disturb your memory? Should I find Mom and tell her?" She looked around frantically.

Azrael put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine, you stupid girl."

She puffed out her cheeks. "What did you just say?"

"Stupid," he repeated. "What should I call you? You're the one not getting it. From the start, I was just telling you that I've already forgotten about it. But I was the one who forgot that your brain takes a year to process things."

Her cheeks puffed out even more. "You're evil! Evil, evil, evil!"

"Then get away from me," he said. "Have you forgotten your mom's words? Oh, and look, people are looking at us. Well, mostly at you. You've failed your mother's words about acting cold. Now your new title among them must be 'Ms. Childish'."

She rolled up her sleeves as if she was about to punch him, then, realizing people were watching, she just let out a childish "Hmph!" and walked away.

He watched her go, a small, genuine smile on his face. 'Well, she sure lightened my mood. Maybe Class A won't be that much of an issue. And yeah, this semester, I don't have to worry about demons and all. This arc will be focused on Kaelen's struggle and growth. So, I'll just chill and get stronger in my way.'

An announcement suddenly echoed through the hall. "All students, please gather inside the auditorium. Follow the glowing projections and reach your designated seating within ten minutes."

A voice came from beside him. "It's time for the Headmistress's speech! I wanted to see the most powerful person in the academy!" It was Selyne.

"What, you again?" Azrael said. "You left in anger. Have you got no shame?"

She replied, closing a band on her wrist, "It's my choice whatever I do. And you don't own this place, so I can be wherever I want."

"If you choose this again and again," Azrael replied, "your mother will kill me before the academy kills me."

"What?" she said, confused.

"Nothing. Let's go meet your 'most powerful being' for the second time," he said mockingly.

"Second time?" she asked. "You already met her?"

"Yeah. A long story for later. But let's go."

They reached the auditorium, a vast, circular room filled with thousands of students from every race. He looked around, trying to spot the hero and the other heroines, but before he could, a voice boomed from the stage.

"Good morning, students."

It was Quill. He stood at the podium, his silver hair catching the light, his golden eyes scanning the massive crowd. Selyne looked confused.

"Wait, what's Uncle Quill doing there? Where's the Headmistress?"

Azrael thought, 'It was supposed to be Liliana's speech. More like a warning, and a display of her boredom. This has changed, too. And now Quill… why is he looking just at me?'

Quill's gaze swept across the sea of faces, passed over a thousand students, and then it stopped. It landed directly on Azrael.

And he smiled.

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