Chapter 566: The Upcoming Months

“First of all,” Mystica began, her voice carrying easily across the hall, “I imagine many of you are wondering why, despite being promoted, you are still seated according to your previous years. I can practically feel the questions hanging in the air.” She lifted a brow with theatrical ease, drawing a few nervous shifts from the crowd. “The answer is quite simple. Yes, you are being promoted… but that promotion has not taken full effect just yet.”

She let the suspense linger for a heartbeat, then continued with a smooth, almost soothing cadence. “In order for your promotions to be officially recognized, you will all undergo one full month of training. This training will exist solely to test your current abilities after the… generous six-month break you were given.” Her eyes gleamed knowingly as she added, “Half a year at home tends to soften even the sharpest of students, so we must determine whether each of you truly deserves the promotion being offered.”

Her words settled over the room like a quiet weight, prompting several uneasy looks to flicker between friends. Mystica allowed them that moment to absorb the truth before she went on. “Additionally, this one month will serve another purpose—it will establish your rankings. For you first years and second years, these rankings are crucial. They will determine not only your academic path forward but also the opportunities available to you once regular study resumes.”

She shifted her posture with deliberate grace and turned toward the section where the third years sat. Their older, more mature presence contrasted sharply with the nervous energy of the underclassmen. “As for you third years,” Mystica said, her tone lowering with a more solemn respect, “your one month is less about ranking and more about refinement. You will use this time to determine the exact workforce you intend to enter after graduation. Once your training concludes, you will take your final steps here in the academy and move on to become the adults you are meant to be—whether the world is ready for you or not.”

The third years met her gaze without flinching, their expressions steady, contemplative. The weight of impending adulthood settled over them, not as a burden but as an inevitability they had long prepared for. Once she was satisfied they understood, Mystica turned back to the first and second years with that same piercing, authoritative poise.

“Now, back to you,” she said softly, though her voice held a sharp edge that cut through any lingering daydreams. “I strongly advise every one of you to take this month very seriously. As I’ve already stated, it is the foundation upon which your ranking will be built. And more importantly—far more importantly—it will determine whether you rise to your next year… or remain exactly where you are, learning beside the very juniors you currently look down upon.”

A visible shudder rippled through the hall. Shocked eyes widened. Jaws clenched. The idea of being left behind—of sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with students who were supposed to look up to them—hit harder than any threat Mystica could have crafted. None of them were willing to imagine being demoted while their peers advanced without them. Murmurs filled the room, hushed but intense, fueled by the sudden spark of determination that flared within nearly everyone present.

Mystica watched their reactions with a faint, amused smile tugging at her lips. ’Adorable,’ she mused inwardly. ’Look at them scrambling for motivation the moment their pride is threatened.’ She almost laughed, the sound slipping out as a quiet, indulgent chuckle.

After letting their panic mature into resolve, she resumed speaking. “Once that month of training concludes,” she began again, her tone returning to its elegant calm, “you will return to your studies under your instructors, mentors, and professors. In addition to that, you will be given the chance to choose your courses once more. Yes—choose.”

Confusion spread instantly, along with a hint of hope. Brows lifted. Heads tilted. Some students leaned forward in their seats as if afraid they might mishear the explanation.

Mystica clasped her hands lightly. “The reason for this is straightforward. During these past six months, and especially throughout the war, many of you have changed—whether you intend to admit it or not. Some of you might have experienced the realities of the profession you were pursuing. Perhaps some of you discovered you were not suited for it. Or perhaps you found yourself excelling in something entirely different, something you had never considered before.”

She paced a single slow step, gaze sweeping the hall. “For that reason, the academy will grant you the opportunity to transfer into courses that suit you better. You are not to feel ashamed if you choose to do so. Do not allow the opinions of others to push you into a path that will trap you in a hole you may never escape from.”

Relief washed across the faces of several students—clear, unmistakable relief. Her words struck home for more than a few who had been silently battling doubt, guilt, or fear of judgment.

“Of course,” Mystica added lightly, lifting one elegant hand, “you are also free to remain in your current course if that is your wish. The choice is entirely yours.”

She let her final words settle like dust in the quiet hall, the students hanging on every syllable, knowing they were being offered a rare chance to reshape not only their futures but the very expectations they carried within themselves.

“Now, with that aside,” Mystica said, sweeping her gaze slowly across the rows of students, “the rest of your academic year will proceed just as it had before. Two semesters, each lasting six months. At the midpoint of each semester, you will face an examination to assess your improvement and—yes—your ranking once again.” She tapped a finger lightly against the pulpit, emphasizing each point with graceful precision. “And at the end of every semester, there will be a special exam. That one decides your advancement. Whether you rise, or whether you remain exactly where you stand now.”

Her voice softened as silence collected around her, every student hanging onto her words. After letting the weight of the announcement settle, she clapped her hands once, the sharp sound echoing through the hall. “Alright, my darlings,” she said with a bright, almost mischievous smile, “now that we have all of that said and settled, there is still one more matter that must be addressed. An important one, actually. We are introducing two new figures who will be taking on the roles left vacant during the war.”

A ripple of curiosity passed through the hall. Mystica turned smoothly toward the line of authoritative figures behind her and extended one elegant hand as she made the announcement. “Please welcome your new assistant headmistress… and your new ice affinity instructor.”

Two individuals rose from the seated row.

First was a young-looking woman with a slender figure and a collected, professional air. Her dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and clear glasses framed her steady eyes. She wore fitted black pants, a crisp white long-sleeved shirt tucked neatly in place, and polished official boots that made her look both strict and approachable.

The second to rise was a man with a solid, slightly muscular build. His salt-and-pepper hair matched the trimmed skin-fade beard that lined his jaw, giving him an appearance that balanced wisdom and strength. He wore the formal attire of a knight, his presence commanding without needing effort.

The pair walked forward with calm, measured steps. As they reached the pulpit, Mystica stepped aside, giving them space while offering both a small, respectful nod. They returned it before the man gestured politely.

“Ladies first,” he said, his voice deep and steady.

“Thank you,” the woman replied, stepping forward. She planted her hands lightly on the edges of the pulpit and took in the vast sea of students with a single, composed breath.

“Greetings, students of the Dark Knight Academy,” she began, her voice crisp and confident. “My name is Lucia Greydon. I will be serving as your new assistant headmistress, and I will be aiding in all matters pertaining to the smooth running of this pristine academy.” Her eyes swept the hall as she continued, “I promise to fulfill my duties to the best of my ability, and I look forward to guiding each and every one of you in whatever ways I can.”

When she finished, the hall erupted into appreciative applause. Lucia bowed her head once in acknowledgment, then stepped aside for the man behind her.

He approached the pulpit with a composed demeanor and rested his hands behind his back as he looked over the gathered students. “I greet you all,” he said, his tone measured. “My name is John Frost, and I will be acting as the new head instructor for all ice affinity users. I hope to establish a strong relationship with each of you, and I look forward to seeing the potential you have to offer.”

The students applauded again, just as they had for Lucia—respectful, welcoming, and curious.

John stepped back, giving Mystica room to return to her position. She appeared before the students once more with her usual blend of elegance and playful authority. “Alright, sweet darlings,” she said, clasping her hands together lightly, “these are the two new faces you’ll be seeing around campus. And as long as you remain students of this academy, you are to show them the utmost respect they are entitled to. Understood?”

“Understood,” the majority of the students answered in unison.

“Wonderful,” Mystica hummed with satisfaction. She turned slightly toward Lucia and John. “You two may return to your seats.”

Both nodded and retreated to their designated chairs. Mystica then redirected her attention toward Headmaster Thion with a questioning brow. “I trust there’s nothing more to address… correct, Headmaster?”

Thion gave a single small gesture, confirming that nothing else needed to be spoken.

Mystica nodded once, then faced the sea of students again. “Alright, sweeties, that brings us to the end of this announcement.” Her voice softened, though her smile remained bright. “Once again, welcome back to your pristine academy. I hope you are ready for the months ahead—because you genuinely need to be.”

She turned away from the pulpit as she added, half-playful and half-warning, “You are free to dismiss yourselves once your superiors have left. Be good babies.”

Then, with a light wave over her shoulder, she added, “And make sure you enjoy the rest of today very, very well. Everything begins anew tomorrow. Bye~”

With that final musical farewell, the authoritative figures rose from their seats and began exiting toward the private hall door reserved for them, leaving the students whispering among themselves, processing every detail of what awaited them in the days to come.

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