Richard pulled back the wooden chair and sat down slowly, his eyes undeterred on the Elven chancellor seated lazily behind the desk.
"Hmm..." Chancellor Althea flicked her wrists toward herself, gesturing for him to come closer.
He nodded without hesitation and pulled his chair closer to the desk. He stopped when he could feel his torso kiss the side of the desk.
The office soon fell silent as neither of them said a word. Chancellor Althea would either stare at him for seconds or exhale depressingly. Richard, on the other hand, couldn't take her intermittent stares. It made him feel reminiscent of Iris, the ten-year-old Soul Gazer.
He didn't know what Mage Path the Chancellor belonged to, but he couldn't be too careful. She seemed very experienced and powerful, meaning she could peer deeper into his mind and soul. He wasn't sure if Soul Gazers could read the minds of souls, but if they could, and the Chancellor was one, his transmigration wouldn't be a secret anymore.
He had decided not to tell anyone about his transmigration for two specific reasons. For one, he felt that no one would actually believe him. Even in a world of magic, it would still sound impossible. Except there was a Mage sub-path that let someone know if he was speaking the truth or not, he wasn't sure that they would believe his story.
More so, he feared that they would take him in as an imposter, and probably experiment on him or something. Or worse, they could just kill him.
He couldn't let either scenario happen, at least not until he solved the mystery behind his transmigration. It wasn't a mere coincidence, and it seemed to be playing a big role in the current timeline of Ostaria.
He tapped his right foot on the ground, scanning the intricate design of the office with dull eyes.
Then, at last, the Chancellor yawned, tearing the veil of silence.
"I'm so tired and hungry," she grumbled.
'Maybe she comes from a noble family? Or maybe she has superior intellect and was given this title?' Richard began to consider a few possibilities inwardly while looking at her with a deeper gaze. 'That should be the only thing that makes sense, because there's no way a century-old elf will act this way. She's probably around my age or younger.'
"So hungry..." Althea grumbled again, placing her head on the table.
Richard decided to play along, "Uh, can I help you get some food, then, Madam Chancellor?"
"Really?" she asked softly with closed eyes.
"Yes, ma'am," he nodded half-heartedly.
"I'd like some salad, then," she raised her head.
"Just salad?" he raised a brow.
"Yes."
Reluctantly, he stood up and went in search for her salad. He was only doing this because of what she had said when he was about to leave with the others earlier.
"We have a lot to discuss," her words echoed in his head.
He was really curious about this, and if getting her something to eat was the only way to get the information out of her, he had no choice but to play along.
Using muscle memory, he found the Academy's cafeteria, and requested for a plate of salad.
"For the Chancellor, right?" the plump chef asked, and without waiting for an answer, started making the salad.
'Are elves vegetarians or is it just her thing?' Richard quizzed himself internally.
The chef placed the plate of creamy salad on the counter and left to attend to other students. Richard carried the plate with the utmost care and lumbered his way through the cafeteria.
He could see James and Hazel sharing a table from the corner of his eyes. The perceptive Hazel instantly felt his gaze on her. She turned and smiled teasingly at him. James also noticed him and waved with a smile.
Richard just sighed and dragged his legs out of the cafeteria. He got to the office in two minutes and placed the plate on the desk.
Althea's eyes lit up and she grabbed her fork. She only took a few bites, before conjuring a cup of water out of thin air.
"Eh?" Richard was startled.
'She could do that this whole time? Why didn't she just summon her food?' he complained internally.
She finished the cup's contents in three swigs and sighed in satisfaction, "Ah... much better."
"But you've barely eaten anything," he pointed at her full plate.
She smiled, "I can't really eat much at my age. Little by little does the trick."
"At your age?" Richard creased his brows.
Ignoring his comment, she said, "Richard, my dear, we have a lot to talk about, and a lot to do."
Richard adjusted his posture and listened attentively.
She cleared her throat, "It's common knowledge by now that you are barely fit to be a Mage, due to your very low Mana Reserve. You would not have been admitted to the Academy if you weren't a Greylock. And to be honest, it's only the Grace of the gods that has made you come this far.
"I also know that your family shares their Mana with you every day before you come to the Academy. I want you to stop that."
"But then I'd be no different from a normal human," Richard said, still unsure of the point she was trying to make.
"Are you sure about that?" Althea cocked her head sideways as she asked. "The Mana that flowed through you yesterday was pure and untampered. It was completely yours. And you were able to cast some decent spells with it."
"You could tell?"
She smiled, "It's my job to know how all the students are faring. I do that by monitoring everyone's Mana Aura."
"You're a Descrier?" Richard asked as he remembered one of those men in the woods yesterday.
"No," she shook her head. Then, as always, she smiled, "I'm from the same Mage Path as you. I'm what they call a Minstrel."