Chapter 228: A Private Tutor (I)

The next day…

Gray was directly in front of the Headmistress’s Office. But he didn’t knock on the door, and instead, he pressed his back against the wall and simply waited without impatience.

Students who passed through the corridor slowed for a second when they noticed him, whispers trailing in his wake, but none dared approach

His presence alone discouraged conversation, especially since he had destroyed one of the strongest geniuses of the academy.

A few minutes later, Aurora’s voice came from inside.

“Come in.”

Gray pushed himself off the wall and reached for the handle without hesitation.

The door opened, revealing the wide office lined with towering bookshelves and tall arched windows that bathed the room in soft morning light.

Aurora sat behind her desk, posture straight, auburn hair falling neatly over one shoulder. Her red eyes lifted from the documents before her and settled on him.

Gray stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a quiet click.

He did not bow or greet her.

He walked forward at an unhurried pace and took a seat across from her desk, leaving enough distance to remain outside her immediate reach.

He leaned back slightly in the chair, one leg crossing over the other, and looked at her.

“…..”

Aurora also stared back at him, letting the silence stretch for a few seconds, studying him as if he were a sword she intended to test for flaws.

“We had an agreement.”

Aurora’s lips curved into a faint, wry smile as she leaned back in her chair, folding her hands neatly over the desk.

“So impatient,” she murmured. “You win one spar and march straight into my office the next morning to claim your prize.”

“You said you would teach me your personal sword art.”

“And I will.”

Her red eyes sharpened slightly.

“Though I expected you to at least pretend to be polite.”

“Would that make you teach me better?” Gray tilted his head.

She laughed at those words before adding, “No. But it would make you look less like a conqueror collecting tribute.”

He raised one eyebrow.

“I am collecting what was promised.”

Aurora’s smile widened at that, amused rather than offended.

She stood slowly from her seat, and she walked around the desk, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

“You realize,” she uttered, stopping a few steps in front of him, “private lessons with me are not something students request so bluntly.”

“You were the one who agreed to my requests.”

Aurora stopped in front of him, close enough that he could catch the faint scent of her perfume, something subtle yet deliberate, warm and distracting in a way that felt intentional.

Her red eyes softened for a brief second, the sharp authority in them melting into something far more personal.

“I agreed,” she stated, tilting her head as she looked down at him.

“Do you know why?”

Gray did not look away.

“Because you lost.”

’Definitely because I’m not yours,’ he added inwardly.

She laughed once again.

“No,” she replied, taking another slow step forward until the distance between them shrank to something more intimate.

“Because you are mine.”

’…How predictable,’ Gray muttered inwardly.

The words slipped out before she seemed to restrain herself.

Her fingers brushed lightly against the back of his chair, nails tapping once against the wood as she leaned down slightly, her face closer to his than necessary.

“You walk into my office without knocking. You don’t bow. You don’t greet me. You look at me as if I’m not your Headmistress but something you intend to conquer.” Her lips curved faintly.

“Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

Gray’s expression did not change.

“…Does it make you teach worse?”

The only reason he was pressing that same phrase was to deny her advances without directly offending her.

He was indirectly saying that he considered her teaching valuable, causing her to consider how vantageous was for her to teach him.

“Haah…”

For a split-second, the warmth in her gaze sharpened into something intense, almost possessive.

Her pupils thinned slightly as if she were restraining the urge to close the distance entirely.

“You are dangerously unaware of how attractive that arrogance is,” she murmured.

Her hand lifted, her fingers hovering near his cheek, close enough to touch but stopping just short, as if she were testing her own restraint.

“Careful, Gray,” she added softly. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might forget this is supposed to be a lesson.”

He didn’t flinch.

“If you forget, then I’ll remind you.”

For a split second, something unbalanced flickered across her expression, a crack in her composed persona where obsession threatened to surface fully.

Then, she straightened herself abruptly.

The warmth vanished.

The playful seduction disappeared as if it had never existed, and her posture returned to that of the composed and untouchable Headmistress.

“You truly are infuriating,” she scoffed with a small sigh, though a faint smile still lingered at the corner of her lips.

“Very well.”

She stepped back, creating distance, and her tone shifted into something professional.

“If I am to teach you my personal sword art, you will follow every instruction without argument.”

Gray uncrossed his legs and stood slowly, meeting her gaze head-on.

“As long as the instruction is worth following.”

Her eyes flashed briefly, a spark of delight breaking through her composure again.

“You see? That tone and look… One day, you will regret provoking me.”

He gave a slight tilt of his head.

“I doubt it.”

For a moment, she stared at him again, and the possessive glint returned before vanishing just as fast.

“Let’s begin your private lessons.”

Snap!

The air around them began to distort.

The bookshelves blurred.

The desk dissolved into motes of light.

Mana twisted violently around them, folding space inward until the office vanished completely.

Stone replaced wood.

A circular battleground formed beneath their feet, surrounded by sealed barriers that shimmered faintly with protective runes.

Aurora now stood several meters away, and her outfit had completely changed into something more fitting for the occasion.

She wore a sleeveless high-collared top of deep wine red, the fabric hugging her torso without restricting her shoulders.

Thin silver lines traced along the seams, forming subtle patterns that resembled flowing blades curving around her waist and ribs.

The material caught the faint light of the barrier above, revealing a layered weave reinforced with mana-conductive threads.

A wide black sash wrapped tightly around her midsection, securing the scabbard resting against her left hip.

The sash accentuated the natural curve of her waist, drawing the eye before continuing downward into sleek, dark trousers that tapered cleanly to her ankles.

The fabric was flexible yet structured, allowing swift footwork without excess movement.

Her boots were light, knee-high, and fitted, made from soft leather reinforced at the toes and heels.

They made no sound when she changed her stance.

She looked less like a Headmistress and more like a duelist carved from discipline and countless death fights.

Gray blinked once.

His own clothing had changed as well.

The academy uniform he had been wearing was gone, replaced by a tailored variation of Aurora’s training attire.

His top mirrored hers in design but was cut to fit his broader shoulders and lean frame, the deep red fabric contrasting against his pale skin.

The silver lines along the seams followed his form precisely, emphasizing the clean lines of his posture.

The black sash around his waist was tied firmly, though unlike Aurora’s, it held no scabbard.

His trousers were equally fitted, designed for unrestricted movement, and his boots matched hers in material and build.

He glanced down briefly at his sleeves, flexing his fingers once as he felt the unfamiliar texture against his skin.

“…You changed my clothes.”

Aurora’s lips curved faintly.

“Of course.”

Her tone was light, almost innocent.

“You can’t train in my sword art while dressed like a wandering delinquent.”

Gray looked back up at her, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

“You had permission to alter my attire?”

She smiled.

“I don’t need permission.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary, slowly traveling from his shoulders down to his waist before returning to his eyes.

“It suits you,” she added softly.

“I was right about your proportions.”

Gray’s expression remained neutral, though there was the faintest narrowing of his eyes.

“You measured me.”

“Mentally,” she replied without shame.

A small pause.

“And perhaps once or twice when you weren’t paying attention.”

Silence hung between them for a second.

Then Aurora shifted into a proper stance, the blade angled diagonally across her body, her playful tone fading into a more serious one.

“Do not misunderstand,” she said calmly.

“These uniforms are not for decoration. The fabric enhances mana flow along specific channels. If you move incorrectly, it will resist you.”

Gray rolled his shoulders once, adjusting to the fit.

“Noted.”

Aurora’s red eyes gleamed.

“Good answer.”

The air between them tightened noticeably.

“Now, take your stance,” she said softly, her voice lowering as her presence sharpened, just like the sword in her hands.

“I want to text your actual sword skills before imparting my own technique!”

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