Chapter 57: Ancient Mages (1)

“Oh, you two are related? What a coincidence.” Rudy stated in innocent wonder.

Judging by his tone, it was clear he was the only person who had no idea what the last name of Prichard meant—or if he did, he didn’t show it.

Magnus ignored the guys words, letting out a chuckle, “Still frosty as ever I see,” he remarked, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Though I find it quite interesting to hear word of your betrothal,” he added.

At his words, Melody shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

It was at this moment, Michael realized that their facade had been seen through. The fact that the Winterborne’s had ties to the royal family meant that they probably had to abide by a set of laws and propriety different to that of noble circles.

Therefore it was likely that Magnus knew the truth.

This isn’t good. If everyone finds out that we lied… Michael thought, his gaze moving to the handsome man.

Magnus finally turned his head, his expression retaining his cool and calm persona as he gazed at Michael with interest. The latter felt his heart thump with apprehension, knowing that a few words from the guy would be enough to turn the students against him.

“Very interesting,” Magnus remarked, “to think that you would agree to a betrothal with this ice queen. Are you fond of being abused?”

Michael blinked, not expecting such a question. No, how would he even answer that to begin with?

“I—” he opened his mouth, only to be cut off by a voice booming from nearby.

“I’d like to say a few words…” Bartholomew stated, his trademark smile painted upon his face. “But I will keep it short since many of you are probably too hungry to listen anyway,”

The words brought a roll of chuckles from the older students.

“Here at Arcadia, we pursue the Arcane—gathering like-minded individuals and equipping them with the knowledge to create their own paths of exploration,” he stated grandly.

“By building on the previous generation’s work, we’ve been able to continuously open up horizons that had been lost in time—regaining what was rightfully ours,”

His words were passionate and heart-filled, filling the students with a grand aspiration. Michael too felt his pulse quicken, the mystery and allure of the arcane pulling at his psyche.

“So, my little seedlings. We will feed and nourish you, giving you our protection and knowledge in the hopes that you grow into a brilliant tree—paving your way into the sky and bearing delicious fruit for the whole nation to enjoy together.” Bartholomew said with fanaticism, opening his arms wide.

The great hall was silent for a few moments before Magnus began to clap in solidarity. His singular clapping was joined by another, and another, until the whole hall was rattling with applause.

Michael too found himself clapping, caught up in the headmasters speech. It was clear now why he referred to the students as little seedlings, but also clear that one’s talent was not the only prerequisite for entry into Arcadia.

During the speech, Michael’s heart yearned for the knowledge the headmaster spoke of. Not only as a means to get stronger and exact revenge on his mother’s killers—but also to explore the arcane.

He had always had a fascination with magic, one that until now, he’d never been able to pursue. The man’s words were a wake up call—a reigniting of that passion that had laid dormant inside of him all this while.

“Now, let us feast!” Bartholomew announced, bringing his wide open arms together and letting out a loud clap. Across the room, food piled onto tables—instantly filling the great hall with the delicious smell of freshly cooked food.

On the violet table, plates of roast chicken, red meat, vegetables, stews and a punch bowl appeared, both their appearance and smells causing Michael’s mouth to water.

Rudy was the first to dig in, stabbing his knife into the thigh of the chicken, separating it with a ruthless efficiency that surprised those who saw it. But the guy seemed oblivious of his feat, too focused on piling up his plate with as much as it could hold.

After him, everyone else began to distribute their own food onto their plate. Whatever discussions or tensions were present beforehand were now completely forgotten.

Michael too began to secure some food, cautiously selecting various pieces from the display. One might think that he was a picky eater with the way he was acting.

Meanwhile, Melody was looking at him with suppressed anger—her lips slightly pouted, as if she was upset with him.

“Here,” he said, collecting her plate and placing a filled one in front of her.

Melody flinched, her shock evident. Though he was technically no longer her butler, it seemed that she was too used to him waiting on her to completely change her perception just yet.

She looked at her food and gave a little huff, “I don’t like green beans,” she stated softly.

“I know,” Michael replied, sending her a devilish grin before turning his attention to his own plate.

Such defiance was impossible within the Winterborne manor, but here in Arcadia—in front of all these students? There was nothing that she could do.

Though it was a small act, Michael felt pleased with his tiny rebellion, reveling in the mischief he felt. But moreso, it was a reminder to both himself and Melody that he was no longer her butler while they were in this place.

Magnus’s eyes gleamed with interest as he watched the display between the two, his lips pulled up in a lazy grin.

Unaware of his actions being seen, Michael picked random assortments of meat until coming across the sliced red meat that was practically oozing with juices. Just looking at it was enough to make his mouth water.

After sitting back down, he couldn’t hold his curiosity any longer, taking a piece and biting into it.

The meat practically melted in his mouth, the rich umami flavor a delight to his young tastebuds. Despite having tasted countless dishes during his early life as a noble and a butler in the Winterborne manor, this was the most delicious meat he’d ever experienced.

As he was savoring the flavor, he felt the mana within his meridians dance with glee, as if the flavor was stimulating even them.

What the hell is this?

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