The crowd was confused.
For a moment, the entire auditorium had fallen silent, and the only thing that filled the air was the soft voice of the man, who was now standing on the stage.
Whispers could be heard among the students, wondering at what moment he had come up, at what moment he had started speaking, and at what moment he had finished.
Looking down from the stage, the man watched everything with a gentle smile. Slightly parting his lips, he began to speak again.
"Dear students, I am the principal. My name is Maximilian Hawthorne, but, given the complexity it may pose to remember, you may call me Principal." He finished speaking again, and calm spread at the same pace as his words.
"One question many of you must have is what is my avatar, which god or legend blessed and guided me. The answer is Odin."
Once he finished speaking, instead of calm, there was a storm. The room began to stir, and some students shouted in excitement. After all, they were in front of the man representing Odin, a king god, one of the most important and powerful.
As proof of his words, a black spear with ancient Nordic patterns materialized in his hands, Gungnir. The spear that never misses its target, and that pierces everything it wishes to hunt.
Again, the room cheered at the presence of the spear, after all, it was a sign of strength both personal and human. The principal of an academy like this could not be a normal person and indeed, he is one of the most powerful humans, holding an SS rank, just two ranks away from reaching the SSS category, levels that have not been reached by man for centuries. The man in front of them was not only the representation of a god but also the representation of the strength of humanity.
Once more, the man began to speak, this time with the spear in hand. "Dear students, shortly you will be called to perform the revelation ritual to see who will be the patron guiding you for the rest of your life. Now, I leave you with the Vice Principal, who will call you one by one."
"Good evening, dear students. My name is Selene Moonshadow, and I am the Vice Principal, as Maximilian said. From now on, I will be calling in order, from the first in the ranking to the last, so please pay attention."
A wave of frustration swept over Alex when he realized he was the second to last, but he did not show it and continued to maintain a stoic face. Something he still did not know why it happened, but it had been occurring since he raised the sword in his inner world, in the Iron Realm. Joe, beside him, couldn't contain his curiosity and asked, "Hey Alex, what's your rank in the ranking? I am 934."
Without waiting for the question from the man he had just remembered he had beside him, Alex simply and resolutely replied, "999."
Joe looked at him skeptically for a few seconds before looking away and simply nodding.
With a clap, Selene called the students' attention and pronounced the first name. "Anastasia Blake."
Curiosity flooded Alex's mind, and he lifted his gaze to the stage to find himself once again with the supposed villain and the woman he had recently collided with.
Once on stage, Selene dictated some orders to Anastasia to carry out the ritual. Positioning herself in the center of the circle, Selene began to chant in a strange language to the students. After about five minutes, a bright light began to emerge from Anastasia.
After completing the ritual, marked by mystical chants and the convergence of supernatural energies, silence fell over the room. The academy's principal, a venerable and wise wizard, stepped forward solemnly.
"With the power granted by the ancients, and before the witnesses here present," he began, his voice resonating in the expectant silence, "we declare that the divine essence now residing in Anastasia is that of Morrigan, the Great Queen, goddess of war, death, and fate."
A murmur of surprise and admiration swept through the room. Everyone's eyes were fixed on Anastasia, whose presence seemed to have acquired an otherworldly intensity. The association with Morrigan instantly marked her as a figure of immense power and mystery.
However, the principal continued, his tone becoming slightly somber. "But we must remember," he warned, "that Morrigan's blessing does not come without its price. Those linked to the goddess of battle also inherit her thirst for conflict and her aura of death.
Anastasia, as the avatar of Morrigan, may find that her relationships are affected by challenges and trials, and that her path will be filled with adversities reflecting the eternal struggles of her divine patron."
The room fell silent, processing the dual nature of this announcement. The revelation created an immediate impact: some peers looked at Anastasia with a mix of respect and a new shade of caution. Murmurs filled with speculation and wonder spread, while other students, aware of the power and complications Morrigan might bring, wondered how this would change the dynamics of the academy. Anastasia, for her part, felt the weight of her new reality. Though honored by her link with Morrigan, she was also deeply aware of the challenges she would face. Her transformation had not only elevated her to a position of power and responsibility but had also marked her with the shadows of war and fate, affecting how she would be perceived and how she would interact with the world around her.
Her transformation was not only spiritual or emotional; it was also physical. A new Anastasia presented herself to the students with a completely different appearance.
Her jet-black hair was styled in complex waves and curls that were elegantly gathered, revealing a forehead adorned with an intricate metallic diadem that joined a teardrop-shaped ruby at its center. Strands of her hair, with deep purple highlights, fell in an ornamental arrangement that spoke of royal status or great importance.
Her eyes were a vibrant magenta color, shining with an almost supernatural light, reflecting a mix of ancient wisdom and unsettling power. Her pupils, bright and piercing, could be a mirror of her links with Morrigan, hinting at a depth of character and an intensity of spirit.
The skin of her face was softly pale, almost ethereal, contrasting with the darkness of her hair and attire. Her expression was serene yet enigmatic, with softly outlined lips that hinted at a mysterious and confident poise.
She wore an outfit that combined elegance and functionality, with a purple cloak falling from her shoulders, secured by an ornamental X-shaped brooch that also bore a ruby matching her diadem. The design of her attire included details and patterns suggesting a Celtic origin or influence, possibly a nod to her connection with the goddess Morrigan. The jewels and metals of her outfit were not merely decorative but seemed to be talismans or artifacts of power.
The image of this woman, now linked with the essence of Morrigan, was that of a figure commanding respect and perhaps even caution, a born leader or a warrior whose mere presence could change the atmosphere of a room. She was, undoubtedly, someone who carried both the blessing and the burden of her divine bond.