To the world, Helena appeared as a young woman of extraordinary beauty, her long black hair cascading like a waterfall and her piercing black eyes exuding both warmth and determination. At the tender age of 20, her modest demeanor led many to believe she was merely an unassuming administrator who happened to hold the academy's highest position. But behind this simple facade, Helena was a Ninth-Circle mage, one of the most powerful in existence—a bearer of the title Archmagus, Master of Boundless Power.
She chose to lead a humble life, away from the limelight, guiding the future of the world by nurturing its youth. However, that day, an incident tested the limits of her patience.
One afternoon, from the vast windows of her office, Helena observed a crowd of students gathering in the courtyard. At the center stood a brash student named Kalver Bronwyn, arrogantly berating a classmate.
"Do you even know who I am?" Kalver's voice rang with condescension. "My father is Duke Harold Bronwyn! I could have you expelled with a single word!"
The target of his scorn merely quivered, unable to respond. Helena's brows furrowed as she watched. Known for her compassion, injustice was something she would never tolerate.
Helena left her office, her simple black gown billowing gently as she walked. Her steps were measured, yet each one radiated an aura of unmistakable authority. When she reached the gathering, the atmosphere grew silent.
"Kalver Bronwyn," she called softly, her voice carrying an edge of firmness.
Kalver looked up, meeting Helena's gaze with brazen disrespect. "What do you want? Do you think you're better than me just because you're the principal?"
"Do you understand the consequences of your words?" Helena asked, her tone calm but edged with a cold undercurrent.
"Consequences?" Kalver sneered. "Someone as lowly as you isn't even worthy to polish my shoes!"
The courtyard fell into a shocked stillness. Students held their breath, unbelieving that Kalver dared to speak to the principal in such a manner. Helena, showing no outward anger, raised her hand slowly.
"Kalver Bronwyn," she stated, her voice still calm, "there is but one lesson for someone like you."
Intricate magical runes glowed in the air as Helena moved her hand. In an instant, Kalver vanished—reduced to nothing but ash carried away by the wind. Those watching were frozen, eyes wide with terror and disbelief.
Helena turned to the remaining students, her gaze steady. "Arrogance has no place here. Learn with humility, or face the same fate."