Chapter 48: Confrontation (2)

“We at Arcadia offer five main subjects to all our students,” Bartholomew began, his calm smile still etched upon his face, “regardless of one’s innate talents, you will learn these foundational subjects.”

He continued, “Mana Theory, History, Alchemy, Spellcrafting, and of course, Combat.”

Michael’s astute gaze noticed the headmaster’s eyes shine as he spoke the final word, causing him to shudder. Though the man’s expression had not faltered, Michael felt as if the headmaster’s demeanor had changed, almost like he was a gleaning sword that had just been unsheathed—ready to kill.

Some clamor ensued after the mention of combat. It seemed that there were quite a few within the newest students that were excited about the last subject.

Bartholomew cleared his throat, bringing the room to silence in an instant, “To you first years, we have a few elective classes for you to choose from, though your eligibility will be tied to your results from the examination.”

“However, you don’t need to choose now,” he stated, waving his hand dismissively. “You will be given a list upon reporting to your assigned dorms.”

“What I need from you now though, are class representative’s.”

Class representative? Michael frowned, his gaze moving over the students present.

Is he asking us to select someone among ourselves? Wouldn’t that mean it would just be a popularity contest? He thought, his eyes landing on Braydon Marbury.

Michael had noticed how the other teens acted around the guy and could most certainly tell that he was both well-liked and respected. If they were to vote, he bet that Braydon would take the position with ease.

“Excuse me headmaster, sir.” Braydon stepped forward, his words respectful.

“Yes, Mr. Marbury,” The short bearded man smiled warmly.

As he suspected, Braydon was the first one to speak up at such a time. Perhaps if this was before their confrontation, Michael might not have cared, but now, he felt uneasy.

If the guy was to become a class representative, there would be some level of power that came with it. While he wasn’t sure what kind of power, Michael didn’t need to be a genius to know that the guy would likely try to make his life miserable.

Braydon responded, “May I ask what duties the class representative would have?”

“A great question, Mr. Marbury,” the headmaster replied, clapping his hands together once, “but perhaps instead of interrupting me, you can wait until I finish speaking.” His tone lowered an octave, sounding as if it had come from the depths of the abyss.

“Ah…” Braydon froze, the gracious smile he was wearing quickly disappearing from his face.

It wasn’t just him, the whole room turned deathly silent. Even Michael was stunned, not expecting the sudden hostility from the headmaster who had been amiable thus far.

While he had seen flashes of how dangerous Bartholomew Arcadius was, he had seemed approachable. Yet this small overstep by a first-year student had perhaps caused some of his true colors to appear.

“Now, where was I?” the headmaster said, collecting himself. His warm smile had returned as he addressed the room once more, “Ah, that’s right. We need two class representatives from you all.”

“Normally, we’d let the first-years select their own representatives. But we have two outstanding talents within the room who fit the bill perfectly,” Bartholomew announced, parting his hands outwards.

At his gesture, the students were moved aside with an invisible force, clearing a path towards two individuals who were currently arm in arm.

Eh? Surely not… Michael’s face paled.

“Miss Melody Winterborne and Mr. Michael Ellis, would you please make your way to the front.” The headmaster asked, his arms still wide apart.

Michael swore inwardly, feeling the gazes of the entire room pointed at him. It was one thing for Melody to be chosen, but why did he also get picked out?

As he evaluated the headmaster, he could see the glean in the man’s eyes as he gazed at him. At that moment, Michael knew that the headmaster was aware of his results in the examination.

It seemed that having a unique soul was something that even the headmaster would be interested in.

Without a choice, Michael stepped forward alongside Melody, not even noticing their arms were still linked together. Apparently the shock of being roped into the class representative position had muddled his thoughts.

When they arrived in front of the headmaster, his trademark smile lingered on his face.

“You two make a great looking couple,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Thank you, headmaster.” Melody replied, giving a small curtsy.

Michael’s mind lagged behind, but he managed to mumble some thanks before performing a bow. By now, he’d managed to recover a portion of his intelligence after being battered by emotional ups and downs all afternoon.

“Your duties won’t interfere with your studies, but you will be required to attend council meetings and discussions regarding various matters throughout the year. Of course you’ll also represent all the first-years in such meetings,” he explained.

“Are there any questions?” the headmaster asked, his gaze turning toward the group of a hundred or so students.

There was silence for a few moments before a familiar figure stepped forward. “I have a questio—”

“Nobody? Very well.” Bartholomew said clapping his hands together and cutting off Braydon who had just been about to speak.

Michael forced down the laugh that threatened to escape his throat, the difficulty almost overwhelming, especially after seeing the youth’s expression. Braydon looked as if he’d swallowed a fly, his usual prim demeanor nowhere to be seen.

“I’m sure it’s been a long day for all of you,” the headmaster said with poise, “first you’ll be directed to your dorms and settle in before the grand feast tonight in the Great Hall.”

Bartholomew raised his left hand, a small yet intricate looking magic circle appearing atop his palm. It glowed a deep violet before a hundred individual projectiles of mana flew out of it, shooting around the room.

Michael watched as one of them landed on the back of his left hand.

A depiction of a violet grimoire glowed on his hand, looking mysterious.

“Inspect the color of your emblems and follow the sprite with the corresponding color,” he ordered, clapping his hands together once more.

Seven sprites appeared at his beckoning, each one a different color. White, yellow, orange, red, blue, green and violet, the color of the Arcana rings.

Michael’s eyes drifted to Melody’s hand and noticed she also had a violet emblem, allowing him to let out a small sigh of relief. At least he would be traveling with her, someone familiar and wasn’t plotting for his demise.

“Go now, my little seedlings. I shall see you again tonight at the feast,” the bearded man said, clicking his fingers. As he did so, his figure disappeared, leaving nothing but the shimmering of space.

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