The auditorium fell silent.

Thousands of students sat, waiting.

There was excitement all over the place while some were nervous then there was faint glowing crystal that were lighting the massive hall.

Quill Var Emreis stood at the podium, posture straight, his silver hair shining under the light. A holographic paper floated beside him, his prepared speech.

He glanced at it once, then twice, his golden eyes scanning the scripted lines.

He began in a smooth, cold tone.

"Welcome, new students of Elarion Academy. You have all come here seeking strength, power, and recognition. The academy welcomes you into its halls of learning, discipline, and challenge. Together, you will shape your future and contribute to the stability of the continent."

His voice was steady, rehearsed the perfect administrative speech. The assistant beside the stage nodded approvingly. He continued reading.

"You are the pride of your families, the chosen few who have passed the entrance trials. Here, you will learn not only magic, combat, and theory, but also"

He stopped.

A quiet pause stretched. The air shifted. His golden eyes moved from the holographic words to the crowd. He exhaled softly through his nose, bored already.

"...you know what?" he said, lowering the script. The assistant blinked in alarm.

His voice turned sharp colder, heavier.

"Let's skip the decorative lies."

The audience went still.

"Don't think of yourselves as superior," Quill said, his tone cutting through the quiet like a blade. "Think of yourselves as lucky. Most of you don't deserve to be here."

A few students exchanged uneasy looks. He didn't care.

"Some of you got in because your parents paid for your tests. The rest scraped through by chance or pity. So don't walk around thinking this academy owes you respect."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice growing lower, colder.

"And don't mistake my honesty for rudeness. Reality will hit you soon enough. You'll learn quickly that this place was never meant for you to begin with."

A sharp murmur rippled across the hall. Some students shrank in their seats. Others glared. Quill ignored them all.

He turned the page of his script but didn't read it. His tone changed again quieter, but far heavier.

"You may be familiar with what happens inside these walls the bullying, the discrimination between races and bloodlines. I've seen it. I've seen how weak students fall into depression. How lower races are treated as dirt under noble boots."

A tense silence followed. Even the assistant froze.

"But here at academy well specifically the staffs and the rules," Quill said, eyes narrowing, "we don't care about your name, your clan, or your race."

The assistant looked up at him sharply, eyes wide, as if saying, Are you sure you want to say that?

Quill ignored her and continued. "The academy treats everyone equally—"

He paused, a faint smirk twisting his lips.

"—well, almost. Equality exists only for those who can earn it. This place favors one thing, and one thing only power."

The room was silent.

He turned his gaze toward the assistant, whose hand was nervously twitching near her clipboard.

His voice dropped to a calm.

"The rule will remain the same. Power decides everything."

Then, just as quickly, his tone shifted again.

"Still," he said, straightening, "I'll offer you some advice. Keep your heads down. Train hard. Learn your limits. Push beyond them. And maybe, if you're lucky, you'll survive until graduation."

A few uneasy laughs echoed through the hall.

"And one more thing," he said. His eyes darkened. "If I hear of any case of racial harassment, bullying, or violence for pride or bloodline"

He let the sentence hang. His tone turned cold enough to make even the top students sit straighter.

"I will deal with it personally. And trust me, you won't like how I handle things."

He stepped back, ready to leave the podium. Then, as if remembering something, he stopped. He turned back, voice rising again.

"Oh, right. One last note," he said dryly. "This year, we've received several new students and some are pure humans. Some aren't even from Elarion. So, don't treat them like trash."

The assistant flinched, her eyes darting between him and the crowd. He was going too far off-script.

Quill's voice hardened even more. "If I hear any of you calling them weak or trying to humiliate them" He stopped, gripping the podium for a second. "Let's just say your next semester will be… your last."

The assistant moved forward quickly, placing a hand on his arm. "Vice Headmaster," she whispered, forcing a polite smile at the crowd, "thank you for the wonderful words. That concludes the speech."

Quill gave her a cold glance but let her pull him aside. The moment he stepped off the stage, whispers erupted across the hall.

"Was that supposed to be a welcome speech?"

"Did he just threaten us?"

"Vice Headmaster Quill is terrifying!"

Amid the murmurs, Selyne leaned closer to Azrael. "Isn't Uncle Quill acting weird today?" she whispered. "I've never seen him like that before."

Azrael shrugged. "Maybe he's tired of pretending to be nice."

She thought for a moment. "But… why was he looking at you when he said those things about discrimination?"

He smirked. "I don't know. Maybe love at first sight. You never know."

Her jaw dropped. "What are you insane?!"

"Anything's possible in love, dear," he said with mock seriousness. "Did you forget how your staff risked their lives last night just to show their love --"

"Stop!" she hissed, blushing furiously. "You said you forgot about it!"

He grinned. "How could I forget such a scene? A certain horny girl spying on the love of oth—"

He didn't finish. A sharp punch landed in his gut. It wasn't hard, but it made him flinch.

"Guh—!" He coughed once, rubbing his stomach. He glanced at her. She was glaring, cheeks still pink.

'I should probably stop before she kills me,' he thought. 'She may not be that strong physically but she's still a heroine for a reason.'

He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, sorry. I went too far."

"You do that again, I'll punch you harder," she warned.

He chuckled. "Yeah, punch me so hard it feels like a massage."

Her eyes narrowed. "What did you just say—"

He took a step back instinctively and stepped on someone's foot.

He froze. Slowly, he turned around.

A girl stood behind him.

Her uniform was perfectly neat, her blonde hair shining under the crystal lights, long enough to brush the back of her waist.

Her eyes were a deep, piercing blue, the kind that felt like frozen water. A black half-mask covered her mouth, hiding her expression but not her presence.

Her pointed ears, faintly visible beneath her hair, marked her race immediately.

Azrael's stomach dropped.

'Aelira von Crestia.'

The only princess of Elarion's elven kingdom and one of the most racist nobles alive.

In Elarion, most races lived freely, ruled by councils or clan leaders. But the elves were different. The Crestia bloodline had built their own monarchy, and their people followed them blindly. Their princess was treated like a goddess. And Azrael had just stepped on her foot.

He quickly bowed slightly. "I'm sorry, I wasn't"

Before he could finish, a light smack hit his back. He turned. It was Selyne again.

"You!" he hissed under his breath. "I don't have time for this! I've stepped into a real problem because of you!"

She blinked, confused. "Huh?"

Aelira's cold voice cut in. "Problem, you say?"

The temperature in the air seemed to drop.

"You fool," she said, her tone venomous. "You have no idea what you've just done."

A girl from Aelira's side knelt and dusted her princess's shoe, eyes down. Aelira's stare did not soften.

"You, a mere human, dared to touch me," she said, her blue eyes flashing. "For this insult, I should erase your existence."

Two boys and a girl all elves stepped forward, ready to act. The students nearby watched, whispering.

Azrael sighed inwardly. 'Yeah, I'm dead.'

Selyne frowned. "I think you are getting this as a punishment, but I also think this is overboard. Dont you think so"?

Before the elf lackeys could even swing, a blur cut through the air.

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

All three of them hit the ground hard pinned under a girl who had moved faster than anyone could blink.

The newcomer crouched on top of them, grinning. Her dark crimson hair was tied in a messy braid, and her toned arms flexed with casual strength.

She wore the same uniform, though her jacket sleeves were torn and rolled up. Her bright amber eyes gleamed with mischief.

Azrael blinked. 'Another heroine… Nia Var Emreis.'

Quill's niece.

The lackeys were pinned to the ground, with her sitting on them as if they were a piece of furniture.

Nia smiled with a grin full of sharp confidence.

She looked straight at Aelira.

"First day," she said, her tone amused. "And you've already started a mess, princess."

Aelira's eyes burned like frost.

The entire hall went silent again.

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