I checked the quest notification once more.
Both missions were still active.
Make a solid impression on the class.
Display a villainous trait.
I exhaled slowly.
Then I smiled.
A sharp, calm smile that didn't reach my eyes.
The room was quiet—expectant, curious, a little annoyed after all the dramatic introductions that came before mine.
"Hello," I said casually, my voice calm and measured.
Every eye turned toward me.
"I've noticed something interesting."
A few students straightened unconsciously.
"You're all busy boasting about your incredible talents," I continued, tilting my head slightly,
"your noble families, your rare bloodlines, your powerful parents…"
I paused.
"But none of you seem interested in talking about what you're actually doing with that talent."
The silence thickened.
I chuckled softly.
"Truly pathetic."
A ripple of shock passed through the room.
Some students frowned. Others stiffened.
"What exactly can you even do with all that talent?" I went on, my tone light—almost amused.
"Play house? Flirt? Form couples like this is some kind of romance academy?"
My eyes flicked briefly toward the front bench—toward Edwin and Sarah.
I didn't need to say names.
The damage was already done.
A few gasps escaped.
Some boys clenched their fists.
Some girls looked personally offended.
"You parade what you have," I continued calmly,
"but you don't think about what you can become."
I shrugged.
"To me, that's not pride."
"That's disappointment."
A sharp breath was sucked in somewhere behind me.
"You're a disgrace to your families," I said bluntly,
"showing off your inheritance while doing nothing meaningful with it."
My smile sharpened.
"Honestly, you're just a bunch of wankers who don't even know their own place."
The room exploded internally.
And then I finished.
"If you remain blockheads like this," I added casually,
"you'll end up worse than dogs."
Silence.
Pure.
Absolute.
I sat back down as if nothing unusual had happened—like my introduction had been nothing more than stating my name.
I crossed my legs calmly.
Ah, I thought. Peace.
For three full seconds, nobody moved.
Then—
"What the hell did he just say?"
"That guy's insane!"
"Is he suicidal?"
"I want to punch him."
"Did he seriously insult everyone?"
The class erupted.
Whispers, mutters, outright rage.
Even the teacher paused, clearly processing what she had just witnessed.
I leaned back in my chair, resting my chin on my hand.
Mission accomplished, I thought lazily.
Beside me, Alicia sat perfectly still.
She didn't look angry.
She didn't look offended.
If anything—
Her lips twitched.
Just slightly.
"…Interesting," she murmured, so quietly that only I could hear.
Meanwhile, Edwin stared at me from the front bench.
Not angry.
Not hostile.
Just… curious.
Oh great, I thought. Now I've caught the protagonist's attention.
Wonderful.
❖ DING ❖
The system notification rang in my head.
[Daily Quest Completed]
[MISSION: Make a solid impression on the class]
[Evaluation: Extreme Impact Achieved]
[REWARD: Skill Granted]
[Skill Acquired: Aura Pressure (Passive)]
[Rank: D (Evolvable) ]
[Description:
A natural oppressive presence that intensifies when hostility, intent, or dominance is displayed.
Effectiveness scales with Mental Stability and Willpower.]
I raised an eyebrow internally.
That's… surprisingly useful.
Another notification followed immediately.
❖ DING ❖
[Additional Quest Completed]
[MISSION: Display a Villainous Trait]
[Evaluation: Outstanding Performance]
[REWARD: Rank Advancement Initiated]
[Rank Progress: E+ →D- (unstabilized)]
[Note: Rank is unstabilized. Foundation need to be reinforced.]
A warm sensation spread through my body—not explosive, not dramatic.
Just solid advancement to next tier.
Like something unstable had finally settled into place.
My breathing felt smoother.
My body felt… slightly less fragile.
So that's what the leveling up feels like, I thought.
No fireworks.
No sudden power surge.
Just reliability.
I liked it.
The teacher cleared her throat.
The room quieted instantly.
"…That was," she said carefully,
"certainly a memorable introduction."
A few students glared at me openly now.
Good.
Being hated was far more efficient than being ignored.
Class began shortly after.
Magic theory.
Mana circulation.
Basic spell formulas.
I listened quietly, absorbing everything.
Yet I could still feel it.
The shift.
The class no longer saw me as background noise.
I had become a problem.
A nuisance.
A threat.
A villain.
I smiled faintly.
Arcane Academy, I thought,
if this is what you wanted…
Then I'll play the role properly.
The lesson moved on as if nothing unusual had happened.
Which, frankly, felt far more unsettling than if the teacher had scolded me outright.
Carasina von Salvonia turned toward the board and began drawing complex mana circuits with elegant strokes of chalk, her voice calm and steady as she explained the fundamentals of mana circulation. The formulas were dense, layered with theory that would have gone straight over my head yesterday.
Today, I understood them.
Not completely—but enough to follow the logic.
So Intelligence 41 actually means something, I thought.
As the lecture continued, I noticed something else.
The air around me felt… heavier.
Not oppressive enough to choke, but dense—like standing too close to a brewing storm.
A few students shifted in their seats.
One boy two rows ahead subtly wiped sweat from his forehead.
A girl behind me stiffened, her breathing growing shallow.
I blinked.
Wait.
I glanced at the system panel lingering faintly at the edge of my perception.
Aura Pressure (Passive): Active
"…Oh."
So this was my new skill.
I hadn't even tried to activate it.
It was just… leaking.
I shifted slightly in my seat, consciously relaxing my shoulders and steadying my breathing. The pressure eased almost immediately.
The students around me visibly relaxed.
Good, I thought. Accidental intimidation during class would be bad for my academic record.
Beside me, Alicia tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes studying me with renewed interest.
"You're doing that on purpose?" she asked quietly.
"No," I replied just as softly. "That would require effort."
Her lips curved again—barely.
"I see."
That was all she said, but somehow it felt like a far longer conversation.
At the front of the room, Edwin raised his hand.
"Professor," he said confidently, "if mana circulation is influenced by mental clarity, wouldn't emotional instability cause irregular spell output?"
Carasina nodded approvingly.
"Correct. Which is why mages who rely purely on talent often stagnate—or self-destruct."
Her gaze flicked across the room.
Very briefly—
It stopped on me.
I smiled politely.
She continued as if nothing had happened.
Yeah, I thought. That was definitely intentional.
The class progressed smoothly after that. No explosions. No duels. No dramatic confrontations.
Which was honestly disappointing.
When the bell finally rang, the room erupted with noise.
Students stood quickly, conversations igniting like sparks.
Some glared at me openly.
Others whispered while glancing in my direction.
A few—very few—looked thoughtful instead of angry.
Interesting.
As I gathered my things, a group of boys passed by my desk.
One of them scoffed.
"Big talk for someone who hasn't proven anything."
I met his gaze calmly.
"You're right," I said.
He blinked, clearly not expecting agreement.
"I haven't proven anything yet," I continued. "But at least I'm aware of that."
I leaned back slightly.
"Can you say the same?"
He opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
They left in silence.
I watched them go, mildly impressed with myself.
Was that growth? I wondered. Or am I just getting better at being annoying?
Edwin approached next.
Up close, his presence was… bright.
Not blinding, but steady—like someone who naturally drew attention without trying.
"That was one hell of an introduction," he said, smiling faintly.
"Thanks," I replied. "I practiced not caring."
He laughed.
Genuinely.
"I figured," he said. "You're not wrong, you know. Just… harsh."
"Reality usually is," I answered.
He studied me for a moment longer, then nodded.
"I'm looking forward to sparring with you someday."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Ambitious."
He grinned and walked away.
Yep, I thought. Definitely like the protagonist.
When I finally stood to leave, Alicia rose with me.
"You're interesting," she said plainly.
"That's rarely a compliment," I replied.
"For you," she said, "it is."
And with that, she walked ahead, leaving me staring after her.
"…This academy is going to be exhausting," I muttered.
As I stepped into the hallway, the system chimed once more—quietly this time.
[Notice: Aura Pressure control efficiency increased slightly.]
I smirked.
Good.
If I was going to be the villain here—
I might as well be a competent one.
And somewhere high above the academy, unseen and smiling, a certain principal continued to watch.