The morning sun filtered through the dormitory windows, spilling golden light across my room. I woke slowly, stretching away the heaviness of sleep before beginning my daily routine. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats—the familiar rhythm steadied me, sharpening my body and mind. Soon after, I took to the academy's stone paths, jogging through the crisp morning air. Mana shimmered faintly in the atmosphere, brushing against my skin like an invisible tide. By the time I returned, sweat dampened my uniform undershirt and my lungs burned with the clean ache of exertion.
A hot bath washed the fatigue away. Steam curled upward, carrying with it the scent of the soap, and I lingered beneath the water, centering myself. When I stepped out, I donned the academy's uniform: a dark coat traced with silver embroidery, boots polished to a sheen, and the apex class insignia stitched proudly on the chest. Straightening the collar in the mirror, I stared at my own reflection for a moment. A face both admired and feared. A face I wasn't sure was my own anymore.
Breakfast was simple: eggs and bread with steaming tea. I ate quickly, in silence, before leaving the dorm. Outside, the academy was already alive. Students moved in groups, their chatter filling the air—until they noticed me. Then the tone shifted.
"He's the one who fought Christine, isn't he? The second-year's apex?" a hushed voice murmured, half awe, half disbelief.
"I thought he was only at the top of the first years. To stand toe-to-toe with Christine… that's something else entirely."
Another voice, feminine, breathless: "He's handsome, powerful—and the pressure, even from walking by… it's unreal."
"He feels like something more than human," someone whispered. "Like an ethereal being."
"I'd bear his children if he asked," another girl blurted, earning muffled laughter and scandalized gasps.
The boys, however, watched me differently. Some lowered their gazes, afraid. Others glared openly, jealousy twisting their expressions. A few looked as though they wanted to cheer me, though shame or rivalry held them silent. I walked through it all without slowing, their voices chasing me like echoes I could never escape.
At the classroom door, I paused only long enough to push it open. Silence dropped like a stone. Heads turned. Conversations halted. All eyes followed me as I crossed the room and sat at my desk, as though my presence alone demanded obedience.
Theodore Ashbourne was the first to break the stillness, greeting me with steady confidence. His sister Viviene followed, her words precise, polite. Kael Rivers—protagonist of the story I once read—offered me a brief nod of respect. Lucian Aureldane said nothing, though the jealousy in his eyes burned hotter than words ever could. My sister Selene gave me a gentle smile, warm as always. Evelyne Aureldane, my former fiancée, acknowledged me in a neutral tone, her emotions unreadable beneath her mask. Nymera Dravenholt smiled brightly, though her gaze gleamed with calculation. Seris Eryndor tilted her head in a cool, wordless greeting.
And then, Carmila Noctharyn. Her smile curled across her lips—too wide, too sharp. Her eyes glittered with curiosity laced with madness, an obsession that clung to me like a chain. It was not a smile of friendliness, but of possession. My chest tightened. A chill ran down my spine. I looked away quickly, refusing to meet that stare any longer.
Why does she fixate on me? Am I her game, her toy? Or something worse? Since she deliberately spread those images—making the academy believe we were lovers—I had avoided her. Yet even when she left me be, the damage lingered. Duels came one after another, even second years seeking to test themselves against me. And with every battle, my reputation swelled into something monstrous. She had started it all, and she still smiled as though she owned the outcome.
The heavy echo of heels on stone silenced every thought. Lysandra Vaelthorne entered the room. Her presence alone was enough to command obedience. An oppressive aura swept over the class, bearing down like the weight of a storm. Even the air seemed to vibrate. Her voice carried across the room, deep and resonant, every syllable sharpened with authority.
"I have an announcement to make."
The class froze, breaths held in anticipation.
"Today, missions will be issued."
The effect was immediate. Kael's eyes gleamed. Theodore leaned forward slightly. Viviene smiled, restrained but eager. Selene's gaze hardened with focus. Evelyne straightened in her chair, her posture perfect. Even Carmila's obsessive stare shifted into anticipation, and Seris's calm eyes brightened faintly with interest. My own heart quickened. This was the moment I had been waiting for—the point where story and reality began to diverge.
"Before assignments, pairs will be chosen," Lysandra continued. "Each mission will be completed by two students."
Our holographic tablets flickered to life, glowing faintly with projected lists of names. My eyes scanned the screen.
Kael Rivers and Selene Ravenshade. Just as in the novel.
Evelyne Aureldane and Viviene Ashbourne.
Lucian Aureldane and Theodore Ashbourne.
Nymera Dravenholt and Seris Eryndor.
I scrolled down further—and froze.
Adrian Kaelthorn and Carmila Noctharyn.
My breath caught in my throat. My stomach turned. Of all the possible pairings… why her? Slowly, against my better judgment, I looked up. Her eyes were already on me. That smile widened—hungry, obsessive. My chest tightened again, and I snapped my gaze back to the tablet, forcing my face into neutrality.
"Adrian Kaelthorn. Carmila Noctharyn," Lysandra's voice cut through the silence. "Your mission is as follows."
The teacher's gaze sharpened, and the room seemed to hold its breath. "A businessman named Fredrick Antonio has long been suspected of corruption. Normally, such matters would not concern us. But in recent months, workers in his markets have begun to disappear. We suspect ties to demonic forces."
Gasps rippled through the class. Lysandra silenced them with a glance.
"This is an S-rank mission," she declared. "Uncover the truth of his dealings. If he is in league with demons, you must act. The time limit is until Friday."
Her eyes locked onto me, then Carmila. "Do not fail."
The weight of her words sank into my chest. I already knew this mission. In the novel, it had belonged to Kael and my sister Selene. Together, they uncovered the ritual and stopped Fredrick Antonio from summoning a higher-ranked demon. But now the story was broken. That responsibility fell to me—and to Carmila.
The lecture resumed, but my focus drifted. Images of blood rituals, of demons clawing their way into the world, filled my mind. The mana barrier was weakening. I had read it before: one day, SS-ranked demons would walk again upon this soil. And when they did, war would follow. But this time, I was no reader. I was here. I could bleed.
When the class finally ended, I rose quickly, ignoring the stares, and made my way back to my dorm. The halls felt narrower than usual, as if the weight of the mission already pressed against me. Once inside, I cooked a simple lunch, the small rituals of chopping and boiling grounding me. Yet as I ate, plans unfolded in my head. Tomorrow, we would confront Fredrick Antonio. Tomorrow, I would step into the shadows that once belonged to Kael Rivers.
But Carmila… how could I stand beside someone whose smile promised obsession, not loyalty? Would she hinder me, or drag me deeper into her madness? The thought unsettled me more than any demon.
Evening fell. I cooked dinner, ate in silence, and bathed again. By the time I lay in bed, my body was tired but my mind would not rest. Carmila's smile lingered in my thoughts, invasive and relentless. The mission loomed like a storm on the horizon.
Sleep came slowly, dragging me into its embrace. But as darkness claimed me, only one thought echoed in my heart:
Tomorrow, the ritual begins—and if I falter, demons will descend.