Chapter 224: Esme
Azel was clearly hovering two elements, which was one less than Reinhardt’s.
But that wasn’t what stunned the classroom into silence.
Dual wielders of elements weren’t exactly rare; everyone had heard of them, even seen a few, hell there were some in class right now.
No — what caught every pair of eyes in the room, what made even the loudmouth professor pause mid-breath, were the elements Azel had manifested.
One floated on his left hand, glowing like a small star.
It wasn’t the pale, flickering light of the average Holy affinity user. No, this sphere of light blazed with a brilliance closer to the sun than a candle.
It was pure and too radiant to be mistaken for anything ordinary.
Everyone knew only those blessed directly by the Goddess herself could harness such a manifestation.
On the other side of him, cold mist rolled out in waves.
A cube of crystalline ice spun in the air, its edges were sharp enough to glint like diamonds.
Just being near it made the hairs on the arms of the closest students rise, their breath was fogging faintly as though winter itself had entered the room.
This was the genuine ice affinity. And everyone knew Ice affinity existed only in the far northern Winter Region, locked away from the rest of the world.
Gasps broke out across the room.
"...Incredible." Sybil murmured, her lips curling into a smile she couldn’t contain.
’Not only can he use aura... but two rare types of magic? How is that even possible?’
Her heart thumped in her chest.
’Kyaaa! He looks so cool!’ she thought, pressing her hands together beneath the desk like a young girl witnessing her favorite knight in shining armor.
Azel, for his part, didn’t look impressed with himself. He sighed faintly, as though the display had been more effort than it was worth, and with a flick of his fingers the two manifestations dissipated.
The light faded, the cube of ice cracked and melted into harmless vapor. Just like that, the wonder of it vanished, and the classroom slowly returned to its ordinary atmosphere.
He turned to face Professor Drake.
The man, for once, didn’t have a sneer on his lips.
His sharp eyes were narrowed, however there was no contempt in that stare.
"That was a wonderful presentation, Mr. Thorne," Drake said finally, his tone even. "If you’re interested in improving your magical abilities, you may stop by my office later. Oh, and the same goes for you, Mr. Reinhardt."
Azel took in a deep breath, suppressing a small frown.
He already knew where this road led and it was certainly interesting but he wanted nothing to do with it.
He wasn’t going to fall for the same bait so easily.
Before anything else could be said, a clear chime rang out across the school.
A resonant tone that echoed down every corridor and through every classroom, signaling the end of the period.
The timing was a relief for most of the students.
No one wanted to stay a second longer under Professor Drake’s sharp tongue and unpredictable temper.
In moments, chairs scraped back and students gathered their belongings with hurried hands.
As the last of the students shuffled out, Professor Drake remained floating above the ground, his long coat swaying slightly as if stirred by an invisible breeze.
When the door shut and silence descended, he exhaled slowly.
His hand reached into his coat. The fabric shifted, revealing a hidden row of small glass vials nestled inside.
Each was filled with a dark liquid that glowed under the classroom’s light.
It was blood.
He lifted one, watching it swirl, the corners of his lips twitching upward.
"All I need," he muttered, his voice low, "is your blood, Azel Thorne."
He was talking like a Protagonist from a cliche villain manga.
...
Azel, meanwhile, was already out of the classroom, adjusting his coat as he walked across the courtyard.
He glanced down at his watch, the item was glowing.
The next subject flickered across its display. [Runic Magic].
"Ah, what’s with this timetable and magic classes? I just came from Spellcraft for fuck’s sake," he muttered under his breath, it was annoying.
He moved through through the flow of students heading toward their own classes.
From what he could deduce in the game, Runic Magic was one of those subjects that looked fascinating on paper, after all they were ancient symbols, long-lost techniques and had the potential to carve permanent effects into the world itself.
But in practice? It was dry, theoretical, and required painstaking attention to detail, you couldn’t make a mistake when drawing a rune.
Watching the teacher drone on about symbol composition was about as exciting as counting bricks on a wall.
"Well, whatever. I don’t have a choice," he sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets.
Besides, there were other things on his mind.
He turned the corner toward the Runic Magic lecture hall and bumped hard into someone coming from the opposite direction.
The girl stumbled backward, falling to the ground with a startled cry.
"Ah sorry," Azel said automatically, reaching down to help her up.
She looked meek at first glance, her long hair spilling around her face as she adjusted herself.
But when her eyes lifted to meet his, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Her gaze darkened.
Her serene, almost timid demeanor vanished in a blink. Her eyes widened, recognition flaring in them, and her calm expression warped into something fierce.
"You..." Her voice trembled with fury.
She grabbed his hand tightly, nails digging slightly into his skin. "You’re Azel Thorne?"
Azel froze, frowning slightly.
"You saw me giving a speech today, didn’t you?" he asked, tugging his hand slightly to free it.
He already knew who she was, and every instinct screamed at him to put distance between them.
She was Esme, another heroine... A beautiful chick but a lot of trouble, she didn’t even die in wars or anything, she died from trying to create a new potion formula.
He turned, intending to walk away, but her grip only tightened around his wrist.
She was kneeling on the cold floor of the hallway and looking up at him with wide eyes.
Her fury melted back into meekness as though it had never been there.
"Uhm... I think I lost my glasses," she said softly, her voice pleading. "Can you help me find them?"
Her fingers refused to let go of his.