Chapter 87: Attack (1)

The eyes of the students fell upon Michael as he asked the question, but it was Melody beside him who seemed the most concerned. She reached a hand out but hesitated, pulling it back at the last moment.

“There are many possible reasons why one would want to divert the flow of mana within the world for their own gains,” Magnus replied, his eyes shining briefly. “But as for the collection of souls…” his voice trailed off.

“Only someone truly perverted would do such a thing.” He added, wearing a distasteful expression.

Blake chimed in, adjusting his glasses. “There are records of souls being used in Ancient magic—though nothing concrete. Neither the method nor the application has been discovered, so unless this entity is merely using it for experiments…”

His words hung in the air, the proposition causing those present to feel uncomfortable.

“As Professor Stark said, there’s not much we can do before the royal investigation is completed,” Rose stated, her usually composed demeanor showing some cracks. “But we will still need to notify the student body before the news drops and panic rises.”

“Since Newhold is quite far inland, there may even be some students who are from there.” She added, her eyes moving to Magnus. “I think it would be best if you notify them. Having someone from the royal family break the news might make it easier…”

No one present was naive, when Rose said easier—what she really meant was easier to control the students reaction. Perhaps they might not cause a huge scene in front of the second prince.

Magnus nodded somberly, “I’ll check the registry after this and summon them. But you’ll have to notify the rest of the student base during that time—otherwise the rumors will spread pretty quickly. We don’t need students planning anything untoward…”

“Let’s organize a mandatory assembly in the great hall before noon today,” Michelle suggested, “if we can notify the students in one place with the professors present, we should be able to control the hysteria.”

While the other class representatives discussed the proceedings, Michael was silent—observing the meeting, his mind busy. Despite the new information, he was no closer to figuring out the identity of the culprit, nor their motive.

It was as vexing as it was tragic. He would need to wait for the results of the investigation from the royal family to fill in some missing pieces—if they found anything.

Of course he was fortunate that he was a class representative and could get access to this kind of first-hand information, but for now, there was nothing he could do.

“Alright, so it’s settled,” Rose said, nodding. She turned to Michael and Melody, wearing a sympathetic expression, “I’m sorry you two, we had some other plans for this morning—but they’ll have to wait. You’ll just need to stand beside us in the great hall when we make the announcement to the students.”

Michael nodded silently, Melody doing the same.

Whatever they had planned could wait, this information was far too important to worry about other potentially inane subjects.

“With that, you’re all adjourned,” Magnus stated, standing up from his chair, his usual laziness nowhere to be seen. Ever since the news had been broken, his entire demeanor had changed—now looking like someone befitting of his status as the second prince.

The students followed suit and soon made their way out of the student council room, their expressions heavy. This was one burden that no one had expected, but something they needed to carry nonetheless.

Michael found himself deep in thought as he accompanied Melody past the portraits from earlier. As if they could sense the somber atmosphere, none of the previous headmasters let out a peep, keeping silent as their eyes watched the students pass.

It wasn’t until he began to descend the stairs that he felt a small arm link in with his own. Michael didn’t need to turn to know who it was, but he could see Melody’s worried expression in his peripherals—an expression he had not seen often—especially not directed at him.

“Are you okay Michael?” she asked sincerely, her voice hushed.

Was he okay? Not really. But there was nothing he or she could do to change that fact.

“I’m fine.” He replied unconvincingly.

His words caused Melody’s grip to tighten, but she did not call him out on his lie, instead choosing to remain silent.

Soon they were on their way back to the violet dorms when a figure appeared in the hallway, flanked by two others. It was the person he least wanted to see right now—someone who had been harassing him constantly this past week.

Braydon looked as if he was about to say something, but then his eyes moved to Michael and Melody’s interlocked arms—his expression stiffening. A flash of rage appeared in his face and he stepped forward, blocking the way.

“Have some decorum.” He announced, “you might not care about your image commoner, but lady Winterborne here is a noble woman—you should not be tarnishing her reputation by grasping her arm in public.”

Michael’s eyes shimmered dangerously, his self control fracturing as he glared at the figure blocking his way.

His fingers twitched, unconsciously summoning his mana towards his hand—ready to attack. Spells flickered through his mind, each with the purpose of injuring or maiming the pompous asshole who had been tormenting him daily.

Right now he didn’t care about consequences, his mind still reeling from the shocking news from earlier.

He removed his arm from Melody’s grasp, raising his hand slowly and deliberately, only to see a scowl appear on Braydon’s face.

“Oh, so the commoner wishes to attack me?” he scoffed, letting out an amused laughter. However, Randolph beside him paled, his eyes showing genuine fear.

“Braydon… I don’t think he’s joking around.” He said in a harsh whisper.

“Please, the guy doesn’t have the balls,” Braydon declared with a snide grin, “even the Winterborne family won’t be able to protect him if he does.”

“Michael don’t…” Melody cautioned him, grabbing his arm once more.

Crimson mana danced upon Michael’s outstretched palm, flickering brilliantly even within the well-lit hall.

His hair began to dance, stirred by the power of the accumulated mana as his emerald eyes bore into Braydon. All thoughts drifted from his mind as he focused his hatred upon the pompous figure.

“Glacius…”

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