The class was deathly silent, all eyes were on Alicarde. In one corner of the room, Anne face-palmed herself. She had been busy and hadn't had time to go back for him, despite expressly telling him to be there in ten minutes. Her frustration was palpable as she watched him make yet another mistake.
Alicarde felt the weight of every stare in the room, his mind racing with embarrassment and regret. The professor, standing more than twenty meters away, studied him with an icy silence that made him wish he could sink into the floor. Despite his anxiety, he couldn't help but notice her striking appearance. She was, undeniably, a beauty—her presence both commanding and alluring.
Her fitted blouse perfectly accentuated her ample bust, which she carried with a confidence that only added to her mature allure. The high-waisted skirt she wore emphasized her hourglass figure, drawing every eye in the room to her elegant form.
"Wait... Why the hell is her bust the first thing I noticed? There's no way Argint... no way she was right about me," he mumbled inaudibly to himself, trying to shake off his thoughts.
Her glasses, perched delicately on her nose, added a touch of intellectual charm. Her long, dark hair, styled in an elegant updo, cascaded softly over her shoulder, framing her high cheekbones and full lips. Despite her undeniable beauty, there was an unmistakable strictness in her demeanor. She carried herself with the disciplined posture of someone who brooked no nonsense, her piercing eyes as cold as they were observant.
And Alicarde was nothing if not full of nonsense—late, prone to fighting, and frequently absent from class, he was the textbook definition of a delinquent.
'What the hell, why am I selling myself short? I was literally fighting inhuman monsters. I've got to cut myself some slack,' he complained in his head, though it did little to ease the tension.
The professor frowned, her gaze dropping momentarily to the long shadow he cast at his feet. Adjusting her glasses, she addressed him with a voice that cut through the silence like a blade.
"Introduce yourself to the class."
Alicarde didn't think too much about it, he just wanted this to be over with as soon as possible, preferably with his dignity intact.
"Emmmh, hello. I'm Alicarde Asad," he introduced himself, his voice barely steady.
The professor's gaze remained imperious, her eyes mirroring the strictness of her tone.
"Alicarde Asad, I have a question for you. Are you by chance familiar with the story of Icarus?" She asked, adjusting her glasses as she did.
Alicarde nodded, his mind scrambling to recall the details of the Greek myth.
"Yes, ma'am, I am," he replied, relieved that he at least knew the story.
She placed one hand on her waist, her gaze never leaving him.
"Can you tell me why the young Icarus died in the story?" Her question was laced with an obvious intent—she was testing him, trying to make a point about his behavior.
Alicarde could see where she was going with this. She was basically telling him that, like Icarus, he wasn't following instructions—sneaking into her class being the latest example. He felt a pang of indignation, after all, he was in this situation partly because of the harsh and dangerous life he didn't sign up for. But here he was, being questioned by a super hot... super strict professor.
In his frustration, Alicarde gave an answer that reflected his sense of injustice.
"The reason Icarus fell to his death was... because his father gave him poorly made equipment," he responded, his voice tinged with defiance.
The class, which had been deathly still earlier, now erupted in murmurs at his reply.
"Did he really just say that?"
"Man, he's digging his own grave."
"Poor guy, he's so dead."
Malefica turned her gaze to the class, and the murmurs were immediately silenced. She seemed aware that Alicarde knew the answer she wanted to hear—that Icarus had disobeyed simple instructions—but she let his answer slide without comment.
Instead, she issued a cold command. "Take a seat, Alicarde Asad... You will all be writing a test in five minutes, and afterwards, see me in my office at once, Alicarde, assuming you still intend to pass this course."
The class erupted in murmurs once more, this time filled with pity and dread for Alicarde.
"He's definitely getting expelled."
"There's no way he's surviving that meeting."
Alicarde, suppressing his unease, relaxed a little—he had avoided a public massacre, at least. "Yes, ma'am, I understand," he replied, though his mind was racing with worry.
'Where the hell is her office?' he wondered, already dreading the meeting.
Her words had left him nervous, so he found a seat and quietly sat down. It took him a few minutes to calm down as he prepared for the test.
When the test began, he realized Anne had been right—it was all about the paper he had barely read. He answered as best he could, though the clock seemed to drag on forever.
Finally, it was over. As Malefica left the room, Anne rushed over to where he sat.
"Dude, what the hell? I told you ten minutes! Why the hell were you... ahhh..." She seemed visibly frustrated, clutching her head as if to ward off a headache.
"Alright, you go to her office and do whatever it takes. Malefica is cruel... I mean strict, not heartless," Anne continued, trying to give him some advice despite her exasperation.
Her words only deepened his sense of dread.
"Anne... you almost said cruel. Just hit me with the facts. I'm screwed, aren't I? My older sister told me college was cruel and the professors were demons in human skin... why didn't I believe her?" Alicarde muttered, recalling his sister's warning after her first year in college.
Anne looked away, trying to force a smile. "Don't worry, I'm cheering you on," she said, giving him a thumbs up that did little to lift his spirits.
"I hope you can do the cheering from a distance. Class rep, we have work to do," Mark's voice echoed from the side, interrupting the conversation.
Alicarde looked up, recognizing Mark Green, the assistant class rep.
"Hey, Mark, what's up?" he greeted, lucky he remembered the guy's name.
Mark nodded in acknowledgment, giving him a pitying look.
"I'll be taking Anne. Good luck with Malefica. You're going to need it," he said, trying to drag the reluctant Anne away.
Anne frowned and glared at Mark. "Stop trying to scare him. Don't worry, Ali, you'll be just fine," she tried to reassure him, though her words rang hollow.
Alicarde watched as Anne was dragged away, feeling a mix of gratitude and dread.
"And I forgot to ask where Professor Malefica's office actually is," his voice was despondent.
"I can help you with that," a serene voice chimed in from behind him.
He turned around to find a silver-haired girl standing there. He hadn't sensed her approach, but that was no surprise given how distracted he was. He recognized her—she had helped him sneak in once before. Only now, as he took a good look at her, he couldn't help but think, wow.
Her long, flowing silver hair framed her face and extended down her back, her piercing grey eyes standing out vividly against her pale complexion.
The red dress she wore accentuated her figure, adding a sense of elegance and seductive allure to her appearance. Around her neck was a choker necklace with a pendant, adding a touch of mystery. Despite her confident and somewhat seductive aura, Alicarde found himself oddly flustered.
She smiled at him, her voice refined and polite.
"Greetings, I am Elizalina Crimson. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Alicarde was determined not to be dazzled by her. He lived with three beautiful and dangerous women already, and this noble, seductive-looking girl would not get to him. No... he would not allow it. With a poker face firmly in place, he introduced himself.
"Alicarde Asad, but you can call me Ali."
Elizalina smiled, a hint of embarrassment coloring her expression as she clasped her hands together playfully.
"It is an honor to meet you, Ali. You may address me as Elly if you prefer."
Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. Alicarde felt a pang of guilt for thinking this innocent girl gave off the aura of a seductress.
Trying to steer the conversation back to his original problem, he asked cautiously, "So you know where Malefica's office is? I'd appreciate it if you showed me the way."
She nodded, her gaze averted as she answered, "Certainly, I shall guide you. Her office is within our department, but this venue is a bit distant, so it may take some time."
"Don't sweat it, I've got a car. We'll be there in a jiffy," Alicarde said, trying to sound nonchalant.
As Elizalina took a step forward, she suddenly tripped and fell straight into his arms. Her body felt soft, just as much as Carrisa's, and the thought made his mind race.
'Why the hell am I thinking of Carrisa at a time like this?' he scolded himself.
Alicarde thought Elizalina would quickly jump out of his arms in embarrassment, but instead, she remained there, her head resting against his chest.
'She must be quite embarrassed,' he reasoned, so he gently asked, "Are you alright, Miss Elizalina?"
Elizalina slowly lifted her head, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "I... I am well. Thank you for catching me," she replied, her voice soft and formal.
She met his gaze, her eyes steady and sincere, and added, "You may address me as Elly."
Alicarde, despite his nervousness, managed a small smile.
"Alright then, Elly. And thank you for the assistance," he said, though he didn't mind calling her Elly—he had made people call him Ali even though he knew that name no longer truly fit him.
Elizalina smiled in return and withdrew from his embrace. "Shall we proceed? The professor is likely expecting you at this moment."
He nodded in agreement and followed the silver-haired girl. He was determined to find out what the professor wanted and face whatever was to come, one way or the other.