The morning sun shone brightly over Verdant Dawn Academy as the preparations for the Moonlit Festival resumed in full swing. The grounds buzzed with excitement as students worked together, their anticipation building for the grand event that was just around the corner. However, away from the bustling preparations, a confrontation was brewing.
Mariel and the other senior girls—Isolde, Rosalind, and Viviana—had asked Alaric earlier that morning for the names of the guys who had threatened him the day before. They were furious that someone would dare try to intimidate a first-year student, especially one who had quickly become so close to them. The girls made up their minds to settle this once and for all.
They waited until a lull in the festival preparations and quietly lured the group of guys to a secluded corner of the academy grounds, far enough away that no one would overhear their conversation. The leader of the group, a tall and somewhat muscular senior named Quentin, approached cautiously with his friends. He seemed uneasy, no doubt realizing that Alaric had told the girls everything.
Mariel stepped forward, her eyes blazing with anger. "Quentin, we need to talk."
Quentin's eyes darted between the girls, and then, as if trying to maintain a shred of pride, he straightened his back. "What's this about, Mariel?" His tone attempted to sound confident, but the nervous edge in his voice betrayed him.
"You know exactly what this is about," Mariel replied coldly. "You and your friends thought it was a good idea to threaten Alaric yesterday. Why?"
Quentin glanced at his friends, who were hanging back, their expressions anxious. Then, as though realizing he was cornered, his demeanor shifted. His face hardened, and he stared directly at Mariel, his arrogance bubbling to the surface.
"So what if we warned him off?" Quentin said, his voice rising with misplaced confidence. "You've been hanging around that little brat too much. It's not right. As your friend, I had to step in."
Mariel's eyes narrowed, her fists clenching at her sides. "Friend? You think this is what a friend does? Threatening a kid because you're jealous?"
Quentin's expression twisted into a sneer, and his gaze moved over Mariel with a sense of ownership. "You shouldn't be hanging around with other guys, Mariel. Especially not a first-year like him. You know I've always looked out for you. I'm just protecting what's mine."
At that moment, Mariel let out a disbelieving snort, and the other girls behind her exchanged disgusted glances. "Yours?" Mariel repeated, her voice dripping with contempt. "You're delusional. I never belonged to you, and I never will."
Before Quentin could respond, Mariel's eyes lit up with an intense, magical glow. "I thought of you as a friend, Quentin. But now, I see that you're nothing more than a possessive, arrogant fool."
Without warning, Mariel's hands shot forward, crackling with magical energy. **Lightning magic**, her specialty. The air around them crackled with electricity as arcs of lightning surged toward Quentin. He barely had time to raise his hands, summoning a barrier of earth to block the attack. His magic specialty was earth manipulation—defensive in nature, but strong enough to withstand direct attacks.
Or so he thought.
Mariel's lightning magic was too fast, too sharp. The bolts crashed into his earthen shield with a deafening crack, shattering it instantly. Quentin staggered backward, his eyes wide with shock as he realized how outmatched he was.
"You're not the only one with magic, Mariel!" he yelled, trying to regain his composure. He slammed his hands to the ground, causing the earth beneath him to rumble. Spikes of rock shot up toward Mariel, aiming to impale her.
But Mariel was quicker. She leaped into the air, her body twisting gracefully as she avoided the attack. With a flick of her wrist, she sent another wave of lightning crashing toward Quentin. This time, the bolt struck him directly in the chest, sending him flying backward into the wall behind him. He hit the ground with a grunt, groaning in pain.
Quentin struggled to his feet, his face pale as he realized he was in serious trouble. He tried to raise another barrier, but Mariel was already on him. With a speed that left him no time to react, she closed the distance between them and unleashed a flurry of electric strikes. Each one hit its mark, sending jolts of pain through Quentin's body.
"Mariel, stop!" one of the other guys shouted, but none of them dared to intervene. Isolde, Rosalind, and Viviana stood nearby, their eyes cold as they watched their friend handle the situation. The guys knew better than to get involved, lest they face the wrath of the other girls.
Quentin, battered and bruised, collapsed to his knees, panting for breath. "I was only trying to protect you," he muttered weakly.
Mariel glared down at him, her hands still crackling with residual electricity. "I don't need protecting, Quentin. Least of all from you."
With one final surge of power, she sent a small shock through his body, not enough to cause serious harm but enough to make her point clear. Quentin slumped to the ground, defeated and humiliated.
The girls turned their backs on him, leaving him and his group of friends in the dust. Mariel, Isolde, Rosalind, and Viviana made their way back to the festival preparations, their anger slowly dissipating. They had taken care of the problem, but they knew Quentin wouldn't dare try anything again. The message had been sent.
---
Later that day, Alaric found himself back at the festival grounds, hard at work helping set up the stalls and decorations. As usual, the senior girls were by his side, offering their assistance and, more importantly, their presence.
Mariel approached him with a smile, her earlier fury replaced by warmth. "We took care of the problem, Alaric," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't have to worry about Quentin and his friends anymore."
Alaric looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, though inside, he was anything but. "Thank you, Mariel. I didn't want to cause any trouble."
Isolde chuckled, stepping in closer. "Trouble? You're not causing any trouble at all, Alaric." She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch lingering a bit too long.
[System Notification: Intimacy score with Isolde increased.]
[Experience received: +1240]
As they worked together on the preparations, the girls stayed close to him—perhaps closer than was necessary. While arranging the enchanted flowers for a centerpiece, Rosalind 'accidentally' pressed her body against him, her soft curves molding to his side. Alaric's heart raced, though not from embarrassment—his system buzzed with another surge of experience points.
[System Notification: Intimacy score with Rosalind increased.]
[Experience received: +1350]
Viviana, shy as ever, was not to be outdone. While helping Alaric hang some magical banners, she stepped close behind him, her ample chest lightly pressing against his back as she guided his hands. Her breath tickled the back of his neck, and though she said nothing, the blush on her cheeks was hard to miss.
[System Notification: Intimacy score with Viviana increased.]
[Experience received: +1570]
Throughout the day, the girls found ways to be near him, brushing against him, leaning over him, and 'helping' him with tasks that didn't really require assistance. Alaric played along, his innocent smile hiding the satisfaction he felt as his experience points steadily climbed.
By the end of the day, as the sun began to set and the festival preparations were nearly complete, Alaric's system pinged with a notification that brought a smirk to his lips.
[System Notification: Congratulations, Alaric! You have reached Level 12.]
His hard work—and the girls' constant affection—had paid off. Alaric stretched, feeling the surge of power that came with his new level. The day had been a success in more ways than one, and as the girls continued to fawn over him, he knew that tomorrow would bring even more opportunities to grow stronger.
For now, he could bask in the attention of these beautiful senior girls, enjoying their touch, their closeness, and the steady stream of experience that came with it. The Moonlit Festival was only days away, and Alaric was ready for whatever came next.