I finally allow myself a chuckle, taking a moment to revel in the audacity of it all. After her refusal to help me with my endeavors, Biana now comes seeking my assistance? Life sure has a funny way of coming full circle.
She frantically tries to grab my arm, but I hold her off, shooting her a wry smile. "You need my help, huh? After you turned me down?" I scoff, letting out a dry laugh. "Funny how tables turn." I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. She thinks it's a comforting gesture until I whisper, "Here's the thing, Biana… fuck you." With that, I swing the door open, practically tossing her out.
Her shocked expression is almost comical, and I take a moment to savor it. I can hear her angry cries from outside. "You fucking dick! You'll regret this, V!" she screams, her voice tinged with desperation. Her once lazy demeanor is now full of fury. "I swear, I'll make your life a living hell!" she threatens.
Raising an eyebrow, I smirk at her through the glass door. "You better start running before your mother catches you!"
Biana gives the door one more enraged kick before sprinting off, her heels clacking against the marble floor. I chuckle to myself, thinking how much fun it would be if her mother actually did find her.
Just as I'm about to return to my table and finish my meal, another series of bangs echoes from the entrance. I release an exasperated sigh. "What now?" Muttering under my breath, I head to the door and find Sera standing there.
Without waiting for my cue, she bursts into the cafeteria, her long hair a wild mess around her face. She lunges for my table, attacking the food like she hasn't eaten in days. The sight is a bizarre blend of hilarity and concern. Every bite she takes is interspersed with an exaggerated sob, her face contorting in an over-the-top display of distress.
"When did you get here?" I say, damn she's starving, I thought it would take her team at least another day before finishing the test.
Sera attempts to answer, her mouth full of salmon and toast, but her words get muffled. A tear trickles down her cheek, landing on the plate. "This is so good," she chokes out between sobs and mouthfuls of food.
Raising an eyebrow, I decide to poke fun at her. "Damn, Hey did you manage to find a shortcut?"
She shoots me a glare, her eyes watery and red. "My team was looking for me, thanks to them I managed to leave that place,"
"Is that so? By the way, you've got a little..." I point to the corner of my mouth, indicating the smudge of jam on her face.
She wipes it off, rolling her eyes. "I need to sleep...I-I'm going to pass out"
"Alright, Alright. Just eat my food and take a nap, I think we're heading back tomorrow,"
She takes a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. "Finally, I can finally sleep on a nice bed. Thanks, the daggers helped out a lot."
I grumble as I head back to the kitchen, "Always looking out for everyone else," I mutter to myself, "I'm like a damn butler in this place." I quickly whip up a simple meal, enough for Sera, Isadora, and myself. I wasn't aiming for gourmet here, just something to fill the belly. With the skillet still hissing, I serve out generous portions, hoping this would finally satiate the seemingly insatiable appetites of these girls.
"Next time, I'm tying bells around their necks," I muse aloud, "At least I'll hear them coming."
After devouring a hasty meal, I make my way outside, needing some fresh air and a moment of peace. But, of course, fate has other plans.
"Well, look who decided to grace us with his eminent presence," I groan internally as I spot Professor Thaddeus, his signature gaze plastered on his face. It's the kind of gaze that made him look like a military general.
"V," he begins, his tone as dry as stale bread. "The results for the test are out. Feel free to look at them on the class page. Your class did quite well. If it wasn't for the fact that you all decided to split up, you all might have won. Unfortunately, we had to deduct points for that. Because of the performance of both classes, we decided to allow both to receive personal training. Have you chosen a professor?"
The fact that he's managed to recite all this without a single pause for breath is nothing short of impressive. But then again, that's Professor Thaddeus for you.
"Oh, wonderful," I snark internally. "An opportunity to spend more time with teachers. Just what I always wanted." I mumble, "I'll go with Professor Ayla."
Thaddeus' eyebrow shoots up. It's the most expression I've ever seen from him. "Are you sure? Although Miss Ayla is a great teacher, I think choosing someone more compatible would be best. We can't choose for you, so I will ask again, are you sure you want Miss Ayla for personal training?"
What's with the third degree? It's not like I'm marrying the woman. "Yes," I say, perhaps a tad sharper than necessary. "I'm sure."
He looks at me like I just told him I prefer wearing my underwear on the outside. Scribbling something down in his notepad, he turns away, looking even more disappointed than usual.
I trudge back to my room, a million thoughts bouncing around in my head. "Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?" I grumble, shoving my hands into my pockets. But before I can even get to my door, I halt in my tracks.
"The hell?" I think, noticing the door slightly ajar. "Did I forget to close it? Or did some overly curious squirrel decide to make my room it's new home?"
Pushing the door open with a resigned sigh, I'm met with the usual mess that constitutes my living space. "Whatever," I say aloud, unable to muster the energy to care about potential intruders. Dropping down onto the floor, I sit cross-legged, drawing a deep breath. "Okay, time to sort this out."
The strangeness with my aura has been nagging at me like an itch I can't scratch. I close my eyes, focusing inwardly. My aura feels like a restless storm, swirling and churning unpredictably. I picture it, trying to direct its flow, to stabilize it. But the more I push, the more it resists. "Alright, little shit, calm down," I mentally scold it.
Pushing harder, I feel a sudden jolt, as though I've been electrocuted. The taste of metal fills my mouth, and I realize I've just coughed up blood. "Perfect," I think, sarcasm dripping from the word. "Now I'm a malfunctioning aura fountain. Isn't life grand?"
"Okay, that's it!" I call out, exasperated. "Ilka, get your ghostly ass out here!"
There's a shimmer in the air, and Ilka appears, floating before me. Her ethereal form is as sassy as ever, and she looks about as impressed as a cat being asked to fetch a stick. "Finally! Thought you'd forgotten I existed. Locked away in that messed up sword."
I shoot her a glare. "Hard to forget someone as irritating as you. My aura's gone haywire. Any bright ideas?"
She rolls her eyes dramatically. "If I had a physical body, I'd facepalm so hard right now. Just how the hell am I supposed to know!? I don't feel mana or aura the way I used to, it all feels foggy. Enlighten me on what's wrong, genius."
Trying not to let her get to me, I explain, "I don't know. It started acting up this morning. Feels like it's trying to break free. Every time I try to control it, it...rebels. It just gets faster."
Ilka lets out an exaggerated groan, landing on my head. "Oh, great place to sit," I mutter sarcastically. "But since you've decided to make my head your new throne, any insight?"
She chuckles, enjoying her perch. "Tsk tsk tsk, you're lucky I'm the best. What's happening is pretty obvious, I mean look at that face. You're at stage one in magic, right? Well, buckle up Kael. Looks like you're about to hit stage one of aura control as well."
I squint at her. "Care to elaborate? Is it normally this hard to reach stage one? You're talking to a guy who still struggles to tie his shoes in the morning."
She sighs, her ethereal form shimmering with annoyance. "Look, your aura paths want to expand, make room for more power. But you've got too much crap in the way. Think of it as trying to run a marathon with stones in your shoes, you got way too many impurities."
I raise an eyebrow. "So, you're saying I need to purify my body or something like that?"
Ilka groans. "No, why do you say it like that? You need to get rid of the impurities in your body, once that's done, the path will open up and things should stabilize."
I take a deep breath. "Ugh, alright. Just how do I do that?"
Ilka's proclamation of my two options hangs heavy in the room. "There's two ways of doing it," she begins, her voice measured. "The first way is to brute force it and forcefully create the path. Doing this will push impurities out of your body. However," she hesitates, her gaze piercing, "it will hurt like a bitch."
She drifts over to the window, gazing out at the serene sea. "The second method is to take a body cleansing pill. The pill is specifically designed to deal with impurities. When you start speeding up the aura within you, the path will be made as easy as cutting through butter. I'm not sure how rare the pill is in this era, you'll have to find out. You don't have to worry about your body, though it might feel a bit uncomfortable, nothing will happen."
I exhale heavily, rubbing my temples. "Oh great, what a bother this is turning out to be. I'll check it out later. If I can't find any in the market, I'm sure Darius will have one somewhere. There's no way I'm taking the painful route."
As if on cue, an unexpected knock sounds at my door. "Ugh, who now?" I mutter under my breath. I open the door and my eyes widen in surprise. "Just what is Duchess Rosalind doing here?"
"It's an honor to meet you, Duchess," I greet her, attempting to mask my anxiety. Her mere presence here unnerves me. What's with that mischievous glint in her eyes? Why is she here?
She smiles, leaning slightly towards me, resting her chin on her hand. "Well, well, well. There's no need to be so scared, little one. I really don't mind the way you treat my daughter, you know - the way you curse at her, bother her, bully her."
Before I can reply, she sweeps past me into my room, leaving me in dumbfounded silence. "Oh, fuck. There's no way she's mad, right? She's not that type of person. I mean, Biana does deserve that treatment," I muse internally.
Turning to face me, she gives me a smile that sends shivers down my spine. "I heard it's thanks to you that she's been doing some tasks. I really do appreciate it. As you know, she will do anything to laze around."
She then strides over to my bed, her movements graceful and deliberate. "However," she adds, "please be mindful. You are both still young; you shouldn't be doing these things." With a swift movement, she throws off the blanket, revealing a sleeping Biana.
"Just what the fuck is she doing in my room?!" I think, panic settling in.
Before I can utter a word, the Duchess delivers a sharp slap to her daughter's face. Biana groans in pain, her eyes darting open in shock. "Why'd you do that for?" she protests groggily, only to freeze upon seeing her mother towering over her. "Eeek!" she yelps, attempting to scramble away, but the Duchess grips her wrist, halting her escape.
A quick, frantic look around the room and her eyes lock onto mine, accusation blazing in them. "You traitor! How dare you expose me?!"
I can't contain my frustration any longer. "Why the hell are you in my room?!"
Duchess Rosalind gazes down at her daughter with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "You little brat, are you breaking into people's rooms now?"
Biana, her face now a shade of deep crimson, glares at her mother. "It's your fault! Why are you trying to torture your own daughter? Despite being my mother, you only care about making my life a living hell," she retorts, her voice dripping with the drama of a stage actress, trying her best to play the victim.
I watch, unsure if I should intervene. But before I can say anything, the Duchess turns to me with a wry smile, "I'm so sorry she broke in. She won't do it again, right Biana?"
Biana grumbles, her cheeks puffed up in a mix of defiance and indignation, looking every bit like an angry, defiant child. This girl really knows how to work up an act. I find myself inadvertently amused, though the gravity of the situation keeps me in check. She's a handful, but it's hard to be truly mad at her in situations like this.
I shake my head lightly, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Please don't worry about it. You don't have to apologize on her behalf."
Duchess Rosalind tilts her head, eyes shimmering with a mysterious light. "Now, now, Biana. It's time for your gift~"
Biana's eyes widen in horror as the Duchess produces a tiny bottle filled with a glittering liquid. The drama in the room rises tenfold. "NO! Nooo! This is torture!" she shrieks, trying to back away.
But the Duchess is quicker. In one swift motion, she uncorks the bottle and forces the potion down Biana's throat. Biana chokes momentarily, swallowing reflexively. Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she realizes the implications of what's just been done. That potion keeps the drinker wide awake until their body genuinely needs rest. No more sneaking naps or lazing about for Biana.
Tears stream down Biana's face, and she looks like she's just experienced the end of the world. "You... You monster!" she whimpers, collapsing onto my bed dramatically.
I try to hold back a smirk. The drama unfolding before me is the stuff of legends. "Well," I begin, looking between the Duchess and her drama queen daughter, "this has been an enlightening visit. Is there anything else you need, Duchess Rosalind?"
The Duchess smiles at me, clearly entertained. "No, dear. I believe my business here is done." She glances at her daughter one last time, a smirk on her lips. "Do take care of her. It seems she's taken quite a liking to your room."