20 advance chapters on [email protected]/Saintbarbido.
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Levitating above him, was a man in a blue costume an S symbol on his chest. But what Mark found skeptical was the guy wore underwear outside his pants.
Then he spoke to him." Need a ride?"
Superman inquired,he had witnessed mark save the child before he could step in and rescue him,and in return for mark beating him to the chase he wanted to repay him.
Mark was still savoring the sight of man of steel.Then he blinked, trying to shake off the overwhelming daze that had settled over him ever since Superman had landed. His presence was like staring at a living monument—godly, awe-inspiring, and terrifyingly real.
Mark nodded wordlessly, too stunned to reply. Before he could gather his thoughts, Superman lifted him effortlessly into the sky.
The wind rushed past them, pulling at Mark's clothes, and all he could do was hold on as the world became a blur beneath him.
He couldn't help but think about what the other students would say. Superman dropping him off at school? It felt like something out of a comic book or a dream… except for the dirt and grime staining his uniform from earlier.
The truck crash had left him a mess, but it hadn't left a scratch on him. Another mystery that he didn't have the strength to deal with yet.
As they descended, the school building came into view, and students in the courtyard pointed up, gasping. Mark winced. This was definitely going to make him the center of attention.
Through the window, Professor Emil Hamilton—one of the tougher teachers—noticed the descent. Mark braced himself for disciplinary action. He could already hear the lecture forming in his head.
But when Superman politely asked for permission to place Mark in class, Hamilton's demeanor shifted.
The stern lines of his face melted into a stunned, agreeable smile. "Y-yes, of course. Absolutely."
Mark blinked. He had never seen the man so cooperative.
Moments later, he found himself standing in the classroom doorway.
Every eye turned to him, the weight of their gazes pressing heavily on his shoulders. But his mind was elsewhere.
[Solomon: Are you still bent on that mysterious power up?]
The familiar voice resonated inside him, cutting through the noise of the classroom.
[Mark: Yes, I couldn't grasp what it was. I felt like I was surging with power… but then it vanished. It was like my blood was boiling, but with something unfamiliar. Something… otherworldly.]
[Solomon: It's known as magical circuits. They convert the life energy of a magus into usable magic.]
Mark was stunned for a moment but then he absorbed the explanation. Magic circuits… he had heard the term before, read about them, even imagined what it would be like to possess them.
They were like the internal framework—wires of the soul—that let someone channel magic consciously. They weren't just conduits. They were the very essence of what made someone a true magus.
Maybe that was the reason he couldn't access the full might of the phantasms the Kings offered. The circuits—his magical foundation—must have been key he missed.
Another chat popped up in the system.
[Solomon: They are potent, but if not properly trained, the circuits can overwhelm the body. Tread carefully.]
Mark swallowed hard. That warning settled deep within him. The newfound power, however exhilarating, was not without risk. Misuse could mean pain. Or worse.
He was thinking on how he could command them, the process would have to be gradual. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a voice.
"Mr. Flinch, can you give us the answer?"
Professor Hamilton had noticed that Mark wasn't paying attention.
Mark flinched—fitting, considering his name—and rose to his feet awkwardly. He had no idea what the question was. A few chuckles trickled from around the room as the pressure mounted.
He was confused,the question in the board was too complex for him to just blunt out the answer. He struggled to answer before a certain saviour stepped in.
[Solomon: The answer is three.]
Mark's lips moved almost
involuntarily. "Three, sir."
A silence settled in the room, then a wave of murmurs. Even Professor Hamilton looked surprised.
"Correct," he said, blinking. "Very good."
Mark nodded, glancing down, grateful for the save. He could almost hear Solomon's amused voice.
[Solomon: Calculus was one of the simpler magics of my era.]
As Mark sat down, the next question went to the girl sitting beside him.
That's when he truly noticed her.
Pale skin, deep violet hair, and most distinct of all—a glowing, crimson gem embedded in her forehead.
Mark's breath caught. It was her.
Raven.
She answered the question calmly, her voice low but confident. Then she sat back, staring forward, expression unreadable. He observed for a second,the group chat then went haywire.
[Artoria: I sense a great and evil power emanating from her. It's better to avoid her.]
[Iskandar: She's someone I wouldn't want to face for sure.]
[Ozymandias: That gem on her forehead… it intrigues me deeply.]
[Gilgamesh: Ha! You mongrels are scared of this chalk? Don't make me laugh.]
[Solomon: I never thought I would encounter someone in this era whose magical power nearly mirrors my own.]
Mark realized he was still staring. Raven turned her head slightly, eyes narrowing without fully looking at him.
"You're staring too much. Is my face a clown or something?" she asked, voice dry and flat.
"Sorry," Mark said, flashing a nervous grin. "But would you blame me for being enamored by your breathtaking sight?"
Raven blinked, just once. A flicker of emotion—maybe surprise—rippled across her features before returning to neutrality.
"Is that what you say to all the girls you find pretty?" she asked, tone still unreadable.
"Not really. Just you," Mark replied with surprising boldness. Inside, his nerves were screaming. He'd always been terrible with girls, but something about Raven drew him in—and not just her looks. Her power. Her mystery. Her aura.
"If you knew what I was," Raven said coldly, "you wouldn't even want to say my name."
" oh!I know," Mark replied softly. "And I still want to."
Her eyes met his for a split second. Something unspoken passing between them.
___________
The bell rang. Students flooded out of class, laughter and chatter echoing down the hallways. Some were trying to strike a conversation with Mark after they saw him dropped to school by Superman but he just ignored them, his focus on raven.
Mark followed Raven quietly. He wasn't stalking her—not really—but he wanted to say more. Raven, however, didn't make it easy. She moved with purpose, gliding through crowds as if untouched by the noise around her.
Then it happened.
Mark turned a corner and collided into someone hard. It was like walking into a steel pillar. He stumbled backward and landed with a thud on the ground.
"Ow! That hurt." He scratched his butt where he fell with a thud.
He looked up to see a hand reaching down to help him. Then the sight captured him,blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight pouring from the nearby window. Crystal-blue eyes locked onto his. Her grip was firm, strong—surprisingly strong.
"Sorry," she said, her voice steady.The girl recognized him immediately."You were the kid who got dropped off by Superman, right?"
Mark accepted her hand, pulling himself up slowly. "Yeah," he muttered. "That was me."
"You alright? You seemed like you were about to start something with that girl back there," she said, nodding toward the hallway Raven had disappeared into.
Mark blinked, surprised. "Wait, you thought I was—?"
"Messing with her," the girl clarified. "I don't like bullies."
A chat then appeared in the group.
[Artoria: Be careful around her , I sense a similar strength in this one. One akin to that man in blue and red.]
[Solomon: She looks charming. I could have made her my 301st wife.]
Mark glanced at her again. Now that he was paying attention, he could see it—the way she held herself, the quiet strength in her posture, the energy radiating from her body. It was familiar. Powerful.
"Oh… no. No, I wasn't bullying her," Mark said quickly. "I was… well, I guess I was trying to impress her."
The girl arched a brow, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Not the smartest approach."
"Yeah. I'm getting that a lot today," Mark said, rubbing the back of his head.
"I'm Kara," she said, extending her hand again.
"Mark," he replied. "And thanks… for not slamming me into a locker."
Kara laughed softly. "I'll keep that in reserve."
They stood in silence for a moment before Kara tilted her head. "By the way, it's not all that fun being carried to school by superman. Trust me."
Mark grinned sheepishly. "I guess it depends on perspective."
And with that, the hallway began to empty, and the day pressed on, but Mark knew something had shifted. The kings within him murmured still, their thoughts and warnings lingering.