Chapter 748 - Catching up
Sylvie watched the scene unfold from her seat, her [Authority] pulsing faintly in the background, highlighting the emotional hues radiating from Irina. She had sensed the fiery energy from the moment Irina stepped forward to intervene, but now, the emotions were sharper, more defined, and impossible to ignore.
At first, it was the familiar hues she associated with Irina—red, bright and blazing, her unmistakable anger. It burned fiercely, matching her sharp words and confident stride as she cut through the chatter surrounding Astron. But there was more, another color swirling just beneath the surface, faint yet vibrant.
'Pink.'
Sylvie's chest tightened as she recognized it. Love. Irina wasn't just irritated or protective—there was something deeper there, something undeniable. It wasn't fleeting or shallow; it was rooted, steady, and intense. And that wasn't all.
'Purple.'
A darker shade, not the calm and regal purple of confidence, but something heavier. It lingered in Irina's emotions like a shadow, twisting through her feelings with a sharp edge. Sylvie didn't need her [Authority] to tell her what it was. The moment Irina's gaze flickered toward the girls surrounding Astron, the answer became glaringly obvious.
'Jealousy.'
Sylvie's breath caught as the realization hit her. Irina wasn't just annoyed with the crowd vying for Astron's attention—she was jealous. The heat in her tone, the way her emotions flared as she spoke, the way she stepped forward to pull Astron out of the room as though to claim him—it all fit too perfectly.
Irina loved Astron.
No, it went beyond love. As Sylvie watched her, as she felt the weight of Irina's emotions through her [Authority], it became clear. This wasn't a new or fleeting feeling. This was deeply rooted, something that had grown over time, something that Irina herself couldn't hide even if she wanted to.
Sylvie's fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as the truth settled heavily in her chest. She couldn't ignore it any longer. Irina didn't just like Astron. She loved him. Fiercely. Passionately. And now, that love was laid bare for anyone paying close enough attention to see.
The scene before Sylvie blurred, the sounds of the classroom fading into the background as her thoughts spiraled. That strange, hollow sensation gnawed at her chest—a feeling she couldn't name or explain. It wasn't anger, nor was it sadness. It was something else entirely, a quiet void that seemed to expand with every second she sat there, watching Irina and Astron.
'I don't understand this feeling…' she thought, gripping the strap of her bag tighter as if the physical sensation would ground her. But it didn't. The void lingered a quiet ache that made her chest feel tight and her thoughts feel far too loud.
And then, like a whisper rising from the depths of her heart, another thought took shape—a thought she hadn't expected.
'I was the one who noticed him first.'
The words echoed in her mind, soft but insistent. Sylvie blinked, startled by the suddenness of it, the quiet weight it carried. She hadn't intended to think that, hadn't even realized it was something she felt. But now that the thought was there, it refused to leave.
It wasn't because she was selfish, or because she wanted something from Astron. It wasn't that at all. But still… how could she forget? How could she forget the times when Astron wasn't like this—when he had been weak and struggling when he had carried the weight of his own burdens in silence?
Where had Irina been then?
The question struck like a shard of glass, sharp and cold. Sylvie's mind raced unbidden memories flooding back. Those early days at the academy, when Astron had been a shadow of who he was now. When he had sat quietly in class, unnoticed by most, his pale complexion and tired eyes betraying the struggles he refused to voice.
Back then, Irina hadn't even glanced his way. Back then, it had been Sylvie who had noticed the way his hands trembled slightly after a grueling lesson, the way his breathing hitched when no one else was paying attention. It had been Sylvie who had seen him fight through the pain, who had felt the pull to help him even when she hadn't fully understood why.
'Where was she then? What was she doing while he was struggling?' Sylvie thought, her heart tightening as she watched Irina now, standing so confidently beside Astron as if she had always been there.
The memory of those days clashed painfully with the scene before her. The fiery determination in Irina's eyes, the way she had stepped in to intervene, the way her emotions blazed so brightly with love and jealousy—it all felt wrong. Out of place. Undeserved.
'How am I supposed to ignore all of that and accept this?' Sylvie wondered, her nails digging into her palms. She couldn't ignore the history she shared with Astron, her own efforts and his silent ones.
But now, it felt like all of that was being overshadowed, erased by Irina's boldness, by the way she claimed the spotlight so effortlessly.
Sylvie looked down at her hands, her chest tightening with a mix of emotions she couldn't name. Was it bitterness? Frustration? That hollow void again, expanding to fill every corner of her heart? She didn't know. She only knew that it hurt.
'This isn't fair,' she thought, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself grounded. But what wasn't fair? Irina's feelings? Astron's calm acceptance of her presence? The way everything seemed to be slipping away from Sylvie's grasp, no matter how hard she tried to hold on?
"Sylvie."
The voice cut through the haze of her thoughts like a sharp blade. Sylvie blinked, startled, her surroundings snapping back into focus. The vivid swirl of emotions she had been caught up in began to dim as she turned to see Jasmine standing beside her, arms crossed and an exasperated expression on her face.
"Ah… Jasmine," Sylvie murmured, her voice shaky, her fingers still clenched tightly around the strap of her bag.
"Go," Jasmine said, her tone firm yet quiet enough not to draw attention from the others in the room.
"What?" Sylvie blinked again, confusion flickering in her pale blue eyes.
"For the whole time, you've been staring at him." Jasmine tilted her head toward Astron and Irina, her tone softening just slightly. "Don't stay here on the sidelines, Sylvie. Go."
Sylvie opened her mouth to argue, but the words didn't come. Her chest tightened again as her gaze flickered back toward the scene that had stirred such turmoil within her. She wanted to go—part of her ached to—but the courage required to act felt impossibly out of reach, like trying to grasp something in a dream.
"I can't," Sylvie said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers curled tighter around her bag strap, her knuckles white. "I… I can't just—"
"Yes, you can." Jasmine interrupted her, stepping closer. Her voice was insistent, her golden aura bright with determination. "Sylvie, if you don't do it now, you'll just regret it later. And honestly? Watching you beat yourself up like this is exhausting."
Sylvie's cheeks flushed faintly, but she didn't respond. She looked away, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess of doubt, fear, and that persistent ache in her chest.
Jasmine wasn't having it. "Alright, if you're not going to do it for yourself…" she said, pulling her mana-powered communication device—a sleek, modern tablet—from her bag and tapping it with an exaggerated flourish. "Then I'll just post these pictures on the school forums."
"What?" Sylvie's head snapped toward Jasmine, her eyes wide with shock.
Jasmine held up the screen, and Sylvie's heart sank as she saw the images on display. It was a collage of candid shots Jasmine had taken over the past semester—her practicing with her blade, sitting under the trees lost in thought, and even one of her smiling faintly as she worked on a group project. There was even a shot from this morning, showing Sylvie looking contemplatively out the window during breakfast.
"Jasmine!" Sylvie hissed, her voice rising slightly in panic. "You wouldn't dare!"
"Oh, I would," Jasmine said, her grin mischievous but her eyes full of encouragement. "You think I'm above a little public humiliation if it gets you to stop doubting yourself? Guess again."
Sylvie gaped at her friend, equal parts horrified and touched. "You're insane."
"I'm the best friend you could ever ask for," Jasmine replied breezily. She tapped her tablet again, as if to emphasize her point. "Now, you can either sit here and let someone else take the chance you deserve, or you can stand up and make a move. Your choice."
Sylvie's heart pounded in her chest, the weight of Jasmine's words settling heavily on her. She glanced back at Astron, who was now speaking to Irina in low, calm tones. That ache in her chest flared again, but this time it was joined by something else—a spark of resolve.
'What am I waiting for?' she thought. The truth was, Jasmine was right. If she didn't act now, she might never find the courage again.
Taking a shaky breath, Sylvie stood, her legs feeling unsteady beneath her. Jasmine's grin widened, and she gave her a small, supportive push toward the scene. "That's more like it. Go get him, tiger."
"Jasmine…" Sylvie muttered, but there was no anger in her voice, only gratitude. Her feet carried her forward before she could second-guess herself again.
Sylvie's heart raced as she walked briskly down the corridor, her [Authority] pulsing faintly in the back of her mind, heightening her senses to every shift in emotion around her. The determination Jasmine had sparked within her burned steadily now, pushing her forward despite the nervous energy coursing through her veins.
As she rounded the corner, her steps faltered slightly when she spotted them—Irina, Julia, and Lilia standing near the open doors to the next wing. They were deep in conversation, though the dynamics were unmistakable. Julia's teasing voice carried over the quiet murmur of the hallway, a playful lilt to her tone.
"Julia," Irina muttered, her voice low and strained, though her expression betrayed her embarrassment. A faint blush dusted her cheeks, as vivid as the fiery reds of her aura that Sylvie could sense even without trying. "That's enough."
"Oh, come on!" Lilia chimed in, her laughter ringing out softly. "She's not wrong. You were blushing, and let's be real—you don't exactly do subtle, Irina."
Sylvie slowed her pace, staying just out of sight as she observed the scene. Irina's flustered state was a stark contrast to her usual confident demeanor, and for a moment, Sylvie felt an odd pang of sympathy. She could see the conflict swirling in Irina's emotions—the mix of pride, affection, and frustration as she tried to maintain her composure under Julia and Lilia's teasing.
But then, something clicked. If Irina was here—standing in the hallway, fending off her friends' relentless jabs—then she wasn't with Astron.
'Astron must be alone!' The thought hit her like a jolt of lightning, and her breath caught as her focus snapped back to the opportunity at hand. She couldn't let this moment slip away. Not after everything she'd felt, everything Jasmine had said.
Gritting her teeth, Sylvie forced herself to move again, her steps quicker now. As she passed the trio, she caught Irina's eye. For a fleeting second, their gazes locked, and Sylvie felt the weight of Irina's emotions brush against her like a flicker of heat—curiosity, tinged with uncertainty and that ever-present blush of affection.
But Irina didn't say anything. She simply held Sylvie's gaze for a moment longer before turning back to Julia with a muttered response, her focus still firmly on deflecting the teasing. Sylvie didn't linger. She pressed forward, her pulse pounding in her ears.
'Don't think about it. Don't stop. Just go.'
"Astron."
And she saw him in the hallway, walking.
Chapter 749 - Catching Up (2)
"Astron."
Sylvie's voice broke through the quiet hallway, steady but with a slight tremor that betrayed her nerves. She saw him pause mid-step, his head tilting slightly as he turned to face her. His calm, gray eyes met hers, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to still.
"Sylvie," he said evenly, his tone soft but carrying its usual weight. He acknowledged her with a simple nod, his gaze steady yet somehow different—sharper, more defined. Or was it something else entirely?
Sylvie's breath hitched as she took in his features. She had noticed them before in passing—the faint change in his posture, the subtle confidence in his demeanor—but now, standing directly before him, the difference was undeniable. There was something new about him, a quiet intensity that bordered on… charm? The line of his jaw seemed more pronounced, his expression more refined, his presence more commanding. It wasn't just physical—there was an aura about him, something she couldn't quite put into words.
For a fleeting moment, she felt herself falter. Her lips parted slightly, but the words didn't come. She quickly shook herself, forcing her thoughts back into focus. This wasn't the time to lose her composure.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice firmer now, though her pulse still raced beneath her calm exterior.
Astron studied her for a second, his gaze unwavering but not unkind. "To the cafeteria," he said at last, his tone as steady as ever.
"The cafeteria?" Sylvie echoed, her mind racing. Her nerves flared, but she pushed through, unwilling to let the moment pass. "Then… may I come with you?"
Astron raised an eyebrow slightly, the faintest hint of curiosity flickering in his expression. "Are you hungry?"
"I am," Sylvie replied quickly, then added, "I didn't have a good breakfast." It was a lie, but one she didn't feel the need to justify. She met his gaze, willing herself to appear composed even as her heart thudded in her chest.
For a moment, Astron simply looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a small nod, he turned and gestured down the hallway. "All right. Let's go."
Sylvie fell into step beside him, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly in the otherwise empty corridor. Her grip on her bag tightened as she tried to steady herself, the faint hum of her [Authority] at the edge of her awareness. She could sense his calm, measured emotions—quiet and steady like a still lake. It was grounding in its own way, even if it made her feel a little self-conscious.
As they walked side by side, Sylvie found herself glancing at Astron now and then, the silence between them stretching out. It wasn't uncomfortable—at least not for him. His steady, unhurried pace and calm expression made it clear he was perfectly fine with the quiet. But for Sylvie, the silence felt heavier with every passing second, pressing against her like an unseen weight.
She knew Astron wasn't much of a talker. He never had been, not in the classroom or outside it. But now, with so much she wanted to ask him—about the academy, about Irina, about himself—the quiet felt stifling.
Her grip on her bag strap tightened as she tried to think of something to say, something casual that wouldn't feel too intrusive. Finally, she took a deep breath and forced herself to break the silence.
"What do you think about the recent changes at the academy?" she asked, her voice light but steady. "It's been a lot, hasn't it?"
Astron glanced at her, his purple eyes calm and unreadable, before returning his gaze to the path ahead. "It has," he said simply, his tone thoughtful.
Encouraged by his response, Sylvie pressed on. "I mean, with the new curriculum, the increased security, and all the changes to the tournament schedule, it feels like everything's shifting all at once."
Astron nodded slightly, his gaze distant as he considered her words. "The academy's adapting," he said after a moment. "They're preparing for something it appears."
"Something?" Sylvie asked, tilting her head curiously. "What is it?"
Astron shrugged, his expression as calm as ever. "That's something we'll find out sooner or later," he said. "At the end of the day, we're the ones being trained for it."
Sylvie nodded slowly, his words settling heavily in her mind. She didn't press further, sensing that he wouldn't elaborate even if he knew more. Astron wasn't one to speak unnecessarily, and she had come to respect that about him, even if it left her with more questions than answers.
As they continued walking, the weight of his statement lingered between them. Sylvie's thoughts drifted to her training over the break, the headmaster's grave expression as he explained the shifting tides of their world. He hadn't been explicit—Jonathan rarely was—but the undertones of urgency in his voice were impossible to miss.
"Sylvie, the world is not as stable as it seems. Changes are coming—greater than what you've seen, greater than what you can imagine. You must be ready to face them, to rise above them. That is why I've pushed you so hard."
Those words had stayed with her, resonating alongside the newfound power of her [Authority]. She had felt it in every fiber of her being during those grueling sessions, in the way her connection to the ancient force she wielded had grown sharper, more defined. The world was changing, and she was changing with it—whether she wanted to or not.
Now, walking beside Astron, she couldn't help but feel a faint echo of that same urgency. He carried himself differently now, his presence more commanding, more purposeful. Whatever had happened to him over the break, it had shaped him just as her training had shaped her. And yet, he seemed so calm, so steady in the face of it all.
Sylvie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "You don't seem worried," she said softly, half to herself.
Astron's gaze flicked toward her briefly before returning to the path ahead. "Worrying doesn't change anything," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "It's better to prepare."
His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made Sylvie's chest tighten. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't make the uncertainty any less daunting.
The cafeteria doors came into view, the faint hum of conversation spilling out as they approached. Sylvie let out a quiet breath, the heaviness of the conversation giving way to a lighter, more immediate focus.
The cafeteria doors swung open, and Sylvie and Astron stepped inside. The room was alive with the buzz of conversation and laughter, a patchwork of voices blending together in a lively hum. Long tables filled with students stretched across the space, groups clustered together by years or classes, exchanging notes, gossip, or simply unwinding after the day's lessons.
Sylvie's eyes swept across the bustling room. Despite the vibrancy of the scene, she could see the divide among the students. While many were here enjoying the standard cafeteria fare, a significant portion of their peers preferred the high-end restaurants scattered throughout the Academy grounds. Those with family money or status often avoided this communal space altogether, leaving behind a mix of students from various backgrounds—those who valued practicality, camaraderie, or simply didn't care for the Academy's classist divide.
As she and Astron joined the queue, Sylvie felt a momentary sense of ease. The cafeteria's warm, noisy atmosphere was a comforting contrast to the heavy silence of their earlier conversation. But just as quickly, that ease dissolved as a strange hush began to ripple through the room.
It started subtly—a few heads turning their way, whispers spreading like wildfire. Then, it grew louder, or rather quieter, until the familiar hum of the cafeteria was replaced by a growing silence. Sylvie stiffened, her [Authority] flickering at the edge of her awareness. She didn't even need it to sense the shift; the weight of all those gazes was unmistakable.
She turned her head slightly, scanning the room. Dozens of students were looking in their direction—not at her, but at him. Their stares ranged from curiosity to suspicion, from admiration to unease. Some whispered among themselves, their voices too low to make out but their intent painfully clear.
'Again…' Sylvie thought, her chest tightening as she caught the faintest threads of emotions emanating from the crowd. Curiosity was the strongest—an electric buzz of interest that seemed to ripple through the air. But there was more, deeper beneath the surface. Resentment. Wariness. Awe.
Astron, as always, remained unfazed. His expression didn't change, his pace didn't falter. If he noticed the stares—and he had to, given how intense they were—he didn't show it. He simply stood in the queue, waiting for his turn with the same calm demeanor he always carried.
Sylvie, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel the weight of it. Her [Authority] made it impossible not to notice the subtle currents of emotion swirling around them, each one tugging at her like faint echoes in the back of her mind.
Jealousy, from a group of upperclassmen near the corner, their sharp glances betraying their frustration at his sudden rise.
Admiration, from a few younger students, their gazes wide-eyed as they whispered among themselves.
Unease, from a cluster of older girls who glanced at Astron with narrowed eyes, as though his presence alone disrupted the natural order of things.
And then there was envy, faint but pervasive, coloring the air around them like a shadow that wouldn't fade.
Sylvie glanced at Astron again, marveling at how unaffected he seemed by it all.
Does he really not care? she wondered, though she already knew the answer. This wasn't the first time she had seen people react to him this way, and it wouldn't be the last. His calm, enigmatic nature had always set him apart, but now, with his refined demeanor and newfound presence, it seemed impossible for anyone to ignore him.
"You must not be swayed by other people," Astron said suddenly, his calm voice cutting through Sylvie's turbulent thoughts like a steady breeze through a storm.
Sylvie blinked, startled by the unexpected words. She raised her head to look at him, her emerald eyes searching his face. His gaze was still fixed ahead, his expression unchanging, yet there was something in his tone—something resolute and unwavering.
"No matter how strong you get in terms of power," he continued, his voice low but firm, "if you keep being swayed by other people, you will always be in shackles, regardless of how strong you are."
Sylvie felt her breath hitch at the weight of his words. She opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, but no immediate response came. Instead, her mind raced, his statement echoing in her thoughts like a distant thunderclap.
"...T-that…" she finally stammered, her cheeks warming slightly. She gripped the strap of her bag tighter, her gaze dropping for a moment before she forced herself to meet his eyes again. "That's… easier said than done."
Astron turned his head slightly toward her, his calm purple eyes meeting hers. There was no judgment in his expression, only a quiet understanding. "It is," he agreed. "But it's necessary. If you spend your energy worrying about how others see you, you'll lose sight of what matters."
Chapter 750 - Catching Up (3)
Sylvie's thoughts swirled, Astron's words replaying in her mind with quiet insistence. If you keep being swayed by other people, you will always be in shackles. The weight of the statement gnawed at her, even as she followed him through the cafeteria line. She barely noticed when it was his turn to order.
"I'll take the grilled wyvern flank," Astron said, his tone calm and measured, as if he were reciting from memory. "With blackgrain rice and the spiced thornroot soup. Add the forest greens salad on the side."
The staff member behind the counter raised an eyebrow but quickly nodded, noting his order. The precision and specificity in his request stood out against the usual quick, casual orders from other students. Astron paid no mind to the looks he garnered, stepping to the side to wait for his tray.
Sylvie blinked, her attention pulled back to the present by the unfamiliarity of his meal choices. Wyvern flank? Thornroot soup? Most students just went for the standard fare—simple pasta dishes, grilled meats, or a bowl of soup. Astron's order, on the other hand, sounded like something straight out of a high-end restaurant, and yet he requested it with a nonchalance that made it seem perfectly ordinary.
Her curiosity piqued, Sylvie found herself wondering about him again. Did he always eat like this? Or was this just another sign of how much he'd changed over the break?
She hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her own choice. Her usual go-to—a simple chicken and vegetable dish—suddenly felt embarrassingly plain in comparison. Still, she forced herself to focus as the server turned to her expectantly.
"Uh, I'll have the… herb-roasted chicken," Sylvie said quickly, glancing at the menu board. "And a side of steamed vegetables. Oh, and a mana-infused tea, please."
The server nodded, moving efficiently to prepare her tray. As Sylvie stepped aside to wait with Astron, she stole another glance at him. He stood there with the same calm poise he always carried, his attention seemingly elsewhere.
The silence between them stretched again, but this time, Sylvie didn't mind. She found herself watching him quietly, wondering how someone could be so composed, so utterly unaffected by everything happening around them. And yet, as she replayed his words in her mind, she realized there was more to his calmness than indifference—it was a choice, one she wasn't sure she knew how to make herself.
Their trays were handed over in quick succession, and Astron turned, gesturing toward an open table near the corner of the cafeteria. Sylvie followed, her thoughts still heavy with his earlier statement and the strange sense of admiration she felt for his ability to remain so steady amid the chaos.
As they sat down, she couldn't help but glance at his plate again. The neatly arranged wyvern flank, the dark, nutty aroma of the black grain rice, and the earthy scent of the Thornroot soup all seemed so deliberate, so purposeful—much like Astron himself.
Astron glanced up from his tray, catching Sylvie's lingering gaze. "Curious?" he asked, his tone even, with just the faintest edge of amusement.
"A little," Sylvie admitted, leaning slightly over her tray as she poked at her vegetables with her fork.
"It's part of my new diet," he said simply, starting his meal with a slow, deliberate sip of the Thornroot soup.
"New diet?" Sylvie asked, tilting her head. She couldn't hide the note of surprise in her voice. From what she remembered, Astron wasn't someone who ate much in general. He was the type to grab something quick and simple, often skipping meals if he was too focused on his training or studies. This change, like everything else about him, seemed so… deliberate.
"Yes," Astron replied, his calm tone carrying a faint edge of practicality. "It's important to get the nutrients that are necessary. Most people only consider the macros—proteins, carbs, fats—but for us Awakened, the micros matter even more. There's a much wider scope of vitamins, minerals, and compounds to account for when managing the strain of combat and mana usage."
Sylvie blinked, a little caught off guard by his matter-of-fact explanation. She had heard about the importance of balanced diets for Awakened before, but she hadn't really thought about it in this level of detail. "So… you did a lot of research?" she asked, curiosity lacing her tone.
"Not on the level of a scientist," Astron said, his lips quirking slightly in what might have been a half-smile, "but I read quite a few articles."
Sylvie nodded, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of her chicken as she considered his words. "That does sound like you," she said softly, more to herself than to him.
Sylvie hesitated, her fork hovering over her plate as she glanced at Astron. She had been holding onto the question for a while now, debating whether to ask. But the curiosity bubbling inside her, mingled with the faint uncertainty she couldn't quite shake, finally won out.
"How was your break?" she asked, her voice light but laced with genuine curiosity.
Astron paused mid-bite, his eyes lifting to meet hers. His gaze was steady, unreadable, and for a moment, Sylvie felt as though he was assessing her, deciding how much to say. The silence stretched just long enough to make her shift slightly in her seat, her pulse quickening.
"It was fulfilling," he said at last, his tone calm and measured as always.
Sylvie blinked, raising her eyebrows slightly. Fulfilling? she thought, the word echoing in her mind. What did that mean? Was he talking about his training, his newfound focus and growth? Or… was he talking about something else?
Like Irina?
The thought hit her like a jolt, and she quickly lowered her gaze to her tray, focusing intently on the piece of chicken she was cutting. Her mind, however, refused to let the thought go.
'We did meet during the break.'
Irina's words from earlier resurfaced, along with the unmistakable swirl of emotions Sylvie had sensed radiating from her—anger, protectiveness, love, and jealousy. It was clear that something significant had happened between them, though what exactly, Sylvie could only guess. And now, hearing Astron describe his break as "fulfilling," her mind couldn't help but connect the two.
A pang of something sharp and uncomfortable twisted in her chest. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but it was there—a feeling she couldn't quite name, somewhere between frustration and… something else. Something she didn't want to acknowledge.
She pushed the thought aside, trying to focus on the present. "Fulfilling?" she echoed, attempting to keep her tone neutral, though her curiosity betrayed her. "What do you mean by that?"
Astron glanced at her briefly, then returned his focus to his meal. "I learned a lot," he said simply, taking another sip of his soup.
The vague response only fueled her inner turmoil. Learned what? she thought, her mind racing. Was it about his training? His growth as an Awakened? Or… was it about Irina? The possibility gnawed at her, and no matter how much she tried to shake it off, the pang in her chest refused to fade.
"Sounds like it was productive," Sylvie said at last, forcing herself to keep her tone light. She managed a small smile, though she wasn't sure if it reached her eyes.
"It was," Astron replied, his calm demeanor unwavering.
Sylvie nodded, falling silent as she turned her attention back to her plate. But her thoughts continued to spiral, the weight of her unanswered questions pressing against her like a heavy fog. Whatever had happened during Astron's break, it was clear that it had changed him—and not just in terms of his diet or his presence. There was something deeper, something she couldn't quite grasp.
"It feels like… you changed," Sylvie blurted out before she could stop herself.
The words hung in the air, and she immediately regretted them. Her cheeks flushed as Astron raised an eyebrow, his calm purple eyes shifting to her with an unmistakable glint of curiosity.
"I've changed?" he asked, his voice steady, his tone tinged with genuine interest. "How so?"
Sylvie froze, her heart racing. Why did I say that? she thought, biting the inside of her cheek. She couldn't exactly admit that she had been watching him closely, noting every subtle difference in his demeanor. The thought alone made her embarrassment deepen.
"I-I didn't mean it like that," she stammered, gripping her fork tightly as she stared down at her plate. "I just… I mean, it's obvious, isn't it? You've been more… focused, and, uh… deliberate, I guess."
Astron didn't reply immediately, his gaze steady as he continued to study her. Sylvie's mind raced for an escape route, but none presented itself. Her [Authority] wasn't helping either; the faint hum of his emotions around her remained calm, unreadable, offering her no clues to his thoughts.
She tried to gather herself, taking a small, steadying breath. "It's not a bad thing," she added quickly, forcing a smile and hoping to steer the conversation away from her own embarrassment. "It's just… noticeable. That's all."
Astron finally leaned back slightly, his expression softening. "You notice a lot," he said, his tone almost amused.
Sylvie's face burned. Why does it sound like he knows I've been watching him? she thought, squirming inwardly. "Well, I mean… it's hard not to notice. You've been different since the break. It's not like I'm spying on you or anything!"
Her words spilled out faster than she intended, and the moment they left her lips, she wanted to disappear. Why am I even saying this? She gripped the edge of the table, willing herself to stop talking before she dug herself deeper.
Astron nodded his head, a faint acknowledgment of her words. "You're right," he said calmly. "I have changed. Change isn't something to fear, though most people are scared of it. But we're always changing, aren't we? Every day, in small ways."
As he spoke, his tone was even and thoughtful, but then he raised his gaze, his sharp purple eyes locking with Sylvie's emerald ones. The intensity in his stare sent an unexpected shiver down her spine.
"Just like how you've changed," Astron said, his words deliberate. "Was the training with the Headmaster helpful?"
His words…..
THUMP!
Sylvie froze, her heart skipping a beat as the words hit her like a bolt of lightning. Her grip on her fork tightened, and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. 'How does he know?' she thought, her mind racing.
Chapter 751 - Catching Up (4)
As I sat across from Sylvie, my mind wandered—not just to the present but to the world of the game, to how much her presence had shifted from what I remembered. Sylvie's fork clinked softly against her plate, her expression still flushed with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment from our earlier exchange, but my thoughts had already begun to spiral into analysis.
'Sylvie,' I mused inwardly, letting the name echo in my thoughts. In the game, she was a slow burn—a character whose importance wasn't fully revealed until much later. For most of the first act, her presence was understated, almost overshadowed by the more dramatic characters like Irina or Seraphine. Players could easily overlook her, especially since her powers, her true significance as a Saintess, didn't awaken until the summer break of the first year.
I traced my fingers lightly against the table, my mind replaying the game's progression. In the original storyline, Sylvie's powers had been dormant for most of the first year. She wasn't weak, per se, but her potential wasn't realized. It wasn't until that pivotal moment during the summer break, that her powers were awakened.
And then it was the second-year winter break when the headmaster personally took her under his wing for intensive training, that she truly began to shine. By the time players reached the second semester of the sophomore year, Sylvie's transformation into a starting top-ranked Awakened was a good change.
But this wasn't the game. Things were already diverging. Her powers had awakened earlier—far earlier than they should have.
'Before the mid-semester break,' I thought, my eyes drifting toward her as she shifted slightly in her seat, still self-conscious. 'That was a major deviation. And if her powers awakened faster, then the ripple effects were to be impossible to ignore.'
Sylvie had become far more central, far earlier, and that meant the pacing of the original events would shift as well. Characters who might not have taken notice of her until later would now see her as a potential ally—or a threat. And the challenges she would face were bound to escalate faster than intended.
The training with Headmaster Jonathan, though… would likely remain the same. Even in the game, the headmaster had been one of the few characters fully aware of Sylvie's identity and potential from the moment that she had awakened them, and this time it was also the same.
'After all, Sylvie had awakened in this academy, the Headmaster's home grounds in a sense. There is just no way that he was not aware.'
This thought of mine had also aligned with the actions of the academy of the second part of the first semester.
'Like how Sylvie was assigned to me and Irina's group. It is evident that the headmaster thought that her Awakening was somehow related to me.'
It was not that hard to see. Since Sylvie had awakened her powers when she wanted to save me at that time.
'That is why….Now that he already knew, why Sylvie looks much stronger also makes sense.'
From the moment the academy began and the entrance ceremony brought us all together, I'd been observing the main cast. One by one, I analyzed them, taking note of how they had grown and shifted since the last time we'd all stood in the same space.
Ethan. He had gotten stronger—undeniably so. His stance was firmer, his aura more refined. It was clear he hadn't been slacking off, and his progress was significant. From what I'd seen, his strength and stats had likely propelled him into the range of the academy's top 300, maybe even breaking into the top 100 if he pushed hard enough. His mana carried a subtle resonance that hadn't been there before, and while I couldn't pinpoint exactly what had changed, it was obvious he'd undergone some kind of breakthrough. He was growing into the role that would one day define him as the steadfast protagonist.
Julia. Julia was still Julia—headstrong, and a force to be reckoned with. But she hadn't been idle either. I'd already seen her performance in the final exam duels, how she had awakened that during that time. And, it had vaulted her into the top ten of the academy in terms of raw combat strength. Her mana now thrummed with controlled ferocity, and her confidence had grown sharper, more resolute. She wasn't just a support character anymore; she was carving her own path to the forefront
Lilia. It is hard to see through her, as she conceals her abilities so well that even with my [Eyes], it was hard to gauge her full strength. But even if I were to completely see through her, Lilia had never relied solely on brute force. Her mind, sharp and calculating, was her greatest weapon, and that hadn't changed. She didn't need to show her power; the subtle way she maneuvered through situations made it clear that she was always thinking several steps ahead. Hence, it is hard to see through her complete capabilities.
Lucas. There is something odd about Lucas. From the beginning, he'd always been one of the most stable members of the cast—a dependable, straightforward presence. But now… now there was a shadow over him, a strange sense of concealment. It wasn't just his demeanor, though that had grown more reserved; it was something deeper. An artifact, perhaps? It seemed to actively interfere with my [Eyes], intercepting my attempts to see through his mana flow and aura. That kind of interference wasn't easy to achieve, and the fact that it existed made him suspicious. Whatever Lucas was hiding, it wasn't something small.
'I had been thinking about this for a long while….'
His change in the Phantom's Land…..If it is related to this, Lucas needs to be investigated more. I had already been thinking about this for a while, and now that it is like this, I can just look through him.
Carl. As usual, Carl was steady. He had always been the anchor of the group, reliable and consistent in his approach. While he hadn't changed drastically, his aura was solid, his training evident. He didn't need dramatic growth; his steady pace was enough to keep him progressing.
There is no need to mention Irina since her progress was already before my eyes.
But of them all, the one who had changed the most was undeniably Sylvie.
She was different, not just in strength but in presence. From the moment she awakened her powers, the shift in her was not that much.
After all, even if she had awakened her powers, it is not that she would immediately be able to use them.
Most importantly, her powers are different from a normal Awakened. It is a different system, hence she needs to understand it differently, as the previous guidelines wouldn't exactly be helpful to her in a concrete sense.
'Sylvie's growth is rapid,' I thought, watching her absently as she continued her meal.
And such growth was not that easy to achieve.
Her aura carried a new weight, her mana laced with a unique resonance that only someone with her Saintess lineage could possess. Even her movements were more confident, her presence less timid. She had begun to grow into the role the game had foreshadowed, but far earlier than it should have been.
I leaned back slightly, letting my words fall with deliberate precision. "Just like how you've changed," I said, my tone calm yet probing. "Was the training with the Headmaster helpful?"
The question was pointed, a calculated move to gauge Sylvie's reaction. If the Headmaster had been actively involved in her growth—and I was almost certain he had been—then her response would tell me more than she realized. Sylvie might be growing stronger, but changes in inherent personality traits weren't instantaneous. The girl she had been—a timid, innocent presence—couldn't suddenly morph into someone composed and commanding without external influence.
Her fork froze halfway to her mouth, a slight tremor betraying her surprise. Her eyes widened briefly, a flicker of something akin to panic flashing in their emerald depths before she quickly schooled her expression. But it was too late. I'd already seen the tells.
Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came immediately. She glanced down at her plate, her fork clinking softly against the ceramic as she set it down. That motion—avoiding eye contact, redirecting her focus—was an instinctual attempt to buy time. She was trying to suppress her reaction, but it only confirmed what I already suspected.
Sylvie's fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the table, a barely noticeable shift that betrayed her internal struggle. Her body language screamed unease, but she was working hard to mask it. For anyone else, she might have succeeded, but not with me.
'Nervousness,' I noted. 'Likely stemming from the fact that I hit the mark. She didn't expect me to mention the Headmaster so directly, and it threw her off balance.'
Finally, she looked up, her expression carefully composed, though a faint flush tinged her cheeks. "I… I think so," she said, her voice hesitant, the words measured. "The Headmaster has been… encouraging."
Her choice of words struck me immediately. Encouraging was vague, an intentionally noncommittal term. It didn't align with the rapid growth I'd observed in her. Encouragement alone didn't produce the kind of transformation Sylvie had undergone—it required deliberate, intensive guidance.
She shifted slightly in her seat, a subtle discomfort in her posture as if she was trying to decide how much to say. Her gaze flickered away for a moment before returning to mine, her hands clasping together in her lap. "You really…..How did you know?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with both curiosity and unease.
I held her gaze for a moment longer, my expression unreadable, then leaned back slightly in my chair. "It was just a guess," I said evenly, my tone calm but pointed. "And it appears I was correct, thanks to your reaction."
It is still apparent that there are things that she needs to improve.
'In this short amount of time…..Well, even the headmaster can't change someone's character in one and a half months.'
It was time to teach her a little.
Chapter 752 - Catching Up (5)
"Was the training with the Headmaster helpful?"
The words caught her so off-guard that her grip on the fork wavered, her breath hitching as her thoughts scrambled for an explanation. How could he possibly know? She hadn't told anyone—not Jasmine, not her classmates, no one. The Headmaster himself had suggested keeping the training discreet, yet here Astron was, speaking as if it were an open secret.
Her emerald eyes widened briefly, betraying her surprise before she could school her expression. She lowered her gaze, carefully setting her fork down to regain some semblance of control. Her heart raced as she tried to steady herself, but the stillness at the table felt oppressive, magnified by Astron's calm, piercing gaze.
He wasn't pressing her. He didn't need to. His silence was enough, a quiet challenge that made her chest tighten. He knows. How does he know? Her fingers curled against the edge of the table, her grip tightening as she fought to suppress her reaction, but even that felt like an admission of guilt. She was trying to act composed, but she had a sinking feeling that Astron had already seen too much.
When she finally looked up, his gaze hadn't wavered. Those calm, purple eyes were fixed on her, steady and unwavering, as though they were dissecting her every movement. For a moment, Sylvie felt completely exposed, as if the careful layers she had built to protect herself had been stripped away with a single question.
"I… I think so," she said at last, her voice soft, hesitant. The words felt flimsy even as she spoke them. "The Headmaster has been… encouraging."
The second the word "encouraging" left her lips, she wanted to cringe. It sounded weak, vague—nothing like the intense reality of what she had endured during her training. Those sessions had been grueling, pushing her far beyond her limits. They had been transformative in ways she was still grappling with. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to say any of that aloud.
Astron tilted his head slightly, his gaze unflinching. His calm expression betrayed nothing, yet there was something about his posture, the way his attention remained locked on her, that made Sylvie feel like he was unraveling her with his eyes.
"You really… How did you know?" she finally asked, her voice softer now, edged with both curiosity and unease. She hated how vulnerable she sounded, how much the question revealed about her inner turmoil. But she couldn't help it—she needed to know.
Astron leaned back slightly in his chair, his demeanor as composed as ever. "It was just a guess," he said, his tone calm, deliberate. "And it appears I was correct, thanks to your reaction."
A flush of heat rushed to Sylvie's cheeks, her embarrassment blooming as her mind raced. A guess? The realization made her stomach twist. She had practically handed him confirmation, and now she felt even more exposed. She shifted in her seat, her hands dropping to her lap as she clasped them tightly together.
Why does he always do this? she thought, biting the inside of her cheek. Why does he always make me feel like I'm under a microscope, even when I'm the one asking the questions?
Her thoughts spiraled as she stabbed absently at her plate, her appetite fading beneath the weight of her unease. She replayed the exchange in her mind, each moment feeling like a quiet defeat. And yet, despite the frustration simmering in her chest, she couldn't deny the faint thread of admiration she felt.
Astron's calm was infuriating, yes, but it was also undeniably impressive. The way he read her so easily, the way he seemed so in control of himself and his surroundings—it was unlike anyone else she had ever met. No matter how much he unsettled her, Sylvie couldn't help but wonder how he did it. And, though she hated to admit it, part of her wanted to understand him better. Because in his unshakable calm, there was a strength she couldn't help but envy.
Sylvie's cheeks flushed a deeper red as the weight of Astron's words settled over her. Her hands darted to her lap, fingers fidgeting nervously as she struggled to process what he had just said. "Oh…" she murmured, her voice barely audible. "I… I didn't mean to—"
He cut her off with a faint shake of his head, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Sylvie," he said, his voice low but firm, carrying the weight of quiet authority. "You need to be more careful. These types of scenarios are going to happen again—likely with people far less trustworthy than me."
The words struck a chord within her, and she instinctively looked down, her embarrassment morphing into a quieter, deeper form of introspection. Her fingers curled tighter against the edge of the table, the soft hum of her [Authority] brushing against the calm wall of his presence. There was no malice in his tone, only a quiet truth that left her feeling exposed but strangely motivated.
He let the silence linger just long enough before speaking again. "Control over your powers is important," he said, his tone softening slightly, "but control over your emotions is equally important. If you allow yourself to react too openly, people will read you, and they'll use that against you."
Sylvie's shoulders stiffened at the gravity of his words. He wasn't wrong—he never was when it came to matters like this—but hearing it aloud, spelled out so clearly, made her feel like her vulnerability was laid bare. Her chest tightened with a mixture of frustration and resolve. He's right. I can't keep letting myself be this easy to read.
Her fingers tightened around the table's edge again, but this time there was a shift in her posture, a faint but undeniable change. Her spine straightened, and when she finally lifted her gaze to meet his, her emerald eyes held a spark of quiet determination. "You're right," she said softly, her voice carrying a steadiness that hadn't been there before. "I'll… I'll work on it."
Astron gave her a faint nod of acknowledgment, his expression still unreadable but tinged with the slightest hint of approval. "Good," he said simply. "Awakening your powers has already changed the way others perceive you. Your growth is rapid, and people will notice—friends and enemies alike. The more composed you are, the harder it will be for them to manipulate or predict you."
Sylvie pressed her lips into a thin line, the weight of his words sinking deeper into her thoughts. She could feel the truth of them, not just in the abstract sense, but in the way people had already begun treating her differently. The Headmaster's training had pushed her into uncharted territory, forcing her to grow quickly and adapt. But it had also placed her under a sharper lens—one that others might use against her if she wasn't careful.
"I understand," she said quietly, her voice tinged with resolve. "I'll do better."
Astron studied her for a moment longer, as if measuring the sincerity of her response. Then, with a slight nod, he returned his focus to his meal. He didn't press her further, his calm demeanor unshaken, but the weight of his words lingered in the air between them.
Sylvie returned her attention to her plate, her appetite now a distant thought as her mind churned with the implications of their conversation. Astron's insight, as always, was precise and unflinching, and while it stung to have her weaknesses laid bare, it also sparked something deeper—a drive to prove herself. To the Headmaster, to herself, and most importantly to this guy.
Sylvie set her fork down, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of her tray as she steadied her nerves. Astron's calm composure had always felt like an impenetrable wall, but now that the conversation had shifted toward her training and growth, a spark of determination ignited in her chest. If he had noticed her changes so easily, she had every right to question his as well.
She took a quiet breath, gathering her thoughts, before speaking. "Astron," she began, her voice soft but steady. His purple eyes flicked up to meet hers, calm and attentive as always, though she noticed a faint glint of curiosity in his gaze.
"What kind of training did you go through over the break?" she asked, keeping her tone light but deliberate. "You've changed a lot too. Just like how you've observed my improvements, it's hard not to notice yours."
For a moment, Astron didn't respond, his gaze fixed on her as though weighing the intent behind her question. Then, he leaned back slightly, setting his spoon down with a quiet clink. "You've noticed, huh?" he said, his tone even, though there was a faint hint of amusement in his words.
Sylvie nodded, feeling a mix of relief and tension as he acknowledged her observation. "It's not just physical," she added quickly, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly. "You're stronger—not just in terms of power, but… presence. You carry yourself differently now."
Astron's calm purple eyes held Sylvie's gaze for a moment longer before he spoke. "You've improved a lot," he said evenly, his voice carrying a faint hint of approval.
Sylvie's lips curved into a small smile at his words. There was something gratifying about hearing that from him, given how much she had pushed herself during the break. But she wasn't about to let him shift the focus. Not now.
"I'm glad you think so," she replied, her tone light but deliberate. "But you're not getting off that easily, Astron. I asked about your training. I'm not letting you dodge the question."
Astron's lips quirked slightly, not quite a smile but close enough to make Sylvie blink in surprise. "You're persistent," he said softly, leaning back in his chair. His sharp gaze remained on her, steady and thoughtful.
"I trained," he began simply, his voice low but carrying a quiet weight. "And it was… difficult. Gruesome, in some ways."
Sylvie frowned slightly, her curiosity piqued but tinged with concern. "Gruesome?"
Astron nodded, his expression calm but distant. "You wouldn't want to know the details," he said matter-of-factly. "Let's just say it wasn't the kind of training most people could endure."
Sylvie's chest tightened at his words, the quiet certainty in his tone leaving no room for doubt. Knowing Astron, she didn't question him. He wasn't someone who exaggerated or sought attention. If he said it was gruesome, she believed him.
Her gaze softened slightly as she studied him, the faint tension in her shoulders easing. Astron had always been someone who could endure pain and hardship without complaint, someone who carried his burdens with a quiet strength that set him apart. It was one of the things she admired most about him, even if it sometimes made him feel distant.
"I believe you," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of sincerity. "You're the type who could handle that… even if you shouldn't have to."
Astron tilted his head slightly at her words, his expression unreadable. "Pain is just another form of growth," he said simply. "You either endure it and become stronger, or you let it break you. There's no in-between."
Sylvie felt her chest tighten again, her thoughts flickering to her own struggles during the break. The Headmaster's relentless training, the moments when she thought she couldn't push any further, only to find herself standing at the edge of a breakthrough. She understood what Astron meant, even if the way he said it felt almost too detached, too matter-of-fact.
"I get that," she said quietly, her gaze dropping to her tray for a moment before she looked back at him. "But- "
Her words were stopped by someone.
"Junior."
By a voice, to be exact.