-Pale Fangs dorm-

  Following her departure from the academy, Eunice now stood before the doors of the Pale Fangs dorm building, holding a small folded letter in her arms. After giving the door a few firm knocks, Simeon, dressed in a brown coat, slowly pulled the door open, expressing noticeable surprise to see his colleague within this particular vicinity.

  “Ah, Eunice, what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to leave a letter,” she responded. “I thought it would be a good idea to let your students know.”

  “Well, you came at the right time,” he smiled, opening the door fully. “We’ve just finished our meeting. Come on in.”

  “Many thanks.”

  Having already been at the three dorms, Eunice already had a sort of expectancy of how the interior, similar to the others would look like. However, the atmosphere was far from what she could imagine.

  It was a mixture of warm friendliness heavily tinged by a sense of superiority, or better put, sacredness that seemingly came from two individuals sitting on a single couch amidst the living room.

  The one sitting on the left was a beautiful slender lady, draped in a form-fitting black turtleneck that contrasted sharply against her short-trimmed white hair. Next to her, a young gentleman with a chiseled face and curly gray hair, dressed in a black robe, was seated with his arms crossed. Whilst Eunice surmised that they both were the source of this feeling of sacredness, as soon as the young man raised his head and meet her eyes, she was convinced he had to be the cause of this sensation.

  Nevertheless, she stepped inside their vicinity with a sense of professionalism. Speaking with a friendly and clear tone.

  “Good day, students!”

  Simeon, who still stood at the door, was then approached by another gentleman; a noticeably slim, handsome young man, who had his golden-blonde hair put in a ponytail, and was dressed in a black waistcoat.

  He spread his right arm in the air as he looked at Simeon with a puzzled face.

  “…Simeon? What is happening?”

  “This is Eunice,” he responded, sighing. “Assuming you all are aware that she is mastering Flock of Veils, I think she needs no introduction.”

  After making prompt eye contact with the blonde-haired man, she turned back to the others who were all seated on the couches.

  “I’ve come here to announce a rather small change concerning the current training period. Has everything gone well so far?”

  “We’ve been doing good,” the blonde-haired man responded, crossing his arms as he smiled. “Since today will be a lot more practical, it will be safe to bet that Emory won’t be falling asleep during classes anymore.”

  Next to the blonde-haired man was a couch on which another young man was seated. He had short-trimmed hair of dark blonde hue, and was dressed in a brown waistcoat that outlined his slim but muscular frame quite well.

  He leaned his head backwards, yawning as he responded.

  “Can you blame me for it, though? That shit was so boring, it could feed off my brain. I’m a doe-er, not a think-er.”

  “Yeah, you’re definitely not a thinker. Lectures such as these are just too high leveled for that block brain of yours,” a beautiful young lady seated next to him jested. She looked very similar to the other lady dressed in her black turtleneck. The only difference was in how she dressed; a loose white blouse under a beige vest.

  “Very funny, Madeline,” Emory sighed. “All I need is something that’ll entertain me during the classes and I won’t be dozing off anymore.”

  “Entertaining, you say?” she pondered, resting her arm on the back support, her face turning contemplative. “What was his name again… Vaelen, right? Was he not entertaining?”

  Emory ticked his tongue as he frowned.

  “That pretty face? He pissed me off more than actually being entertaining. One of those religious holier than thy bastards. Ticks me off so much.”

  “Watch your language, Emory,” Simeone sounded from the threshold before turning back to Eunice. “Anyway, Eunice, the message?”

  “…Yes. It has been decided that all three groups will be joining each other’s company in the grand hall on the fifth and last day of the training procedure. Required attendance will be at eleven in the morning. So be aware that the differences in times won’t be necessary on that day.”

  “The fifth day?” the blonde haired young man asked. “What about the temple students? Aren’t they supposed to return to the Inquisition tomorrow?”

  “They will—yes—but they won’t be using the grand hall,” Eunice responded. “It’s been a little stressful juggling with finding adequate teaching grounds for the sake of the Inquisition, but we’re aware of this matter.”

  “Alright, then,” Simeon sounded. “Has everyone heard what she said? We’ll be in the same space as the other two groups at eleven in the morning on the fifth day of the training procedure. Do any of you need this written down?”

  His question was met with an awkward silence.

  “…I guess not.”

  “That is all I had to say. If you’ll excuse me,” Eunice said, walking back towards the door as Simeon stepped out of the way. Right before she raised her hand towards the door handle, the young blonde-haired man intervened.

  “Parden me, Eunice, Simeon, I have a question.”

  “What is it, Albert?” Simeon asked.

  “…The first group, Jormungandr, how is their situation going along?”

  The other students slightly squinted their eyes as soon as they heard Albert’s query. Eagerly listening along to what Eunice had to say in silence.

  However, Simeon took the word.

  “…It appears that their fifth member has recuperated.”

  “…And” Albert asked, tilting his head.

  “His circumstance is still being investigated by the office,” Eunice added nervously. “We’re seeking as many answers as we can to resolve this.”

  Albert let out a deep sigh, frowning slightly.

  “It’s starting to get a little sluggish, don’t you think? For what reason may he still participate in these events? Perhaps Vash should be questioned, also.”

  “We’re trying our best, Albert,” Simeon retorted. “We may be your Masters, but it is the Administrative Office that holds the most power within the temple. If they decide to leave him to participate in the Inquisition, there’s little what we can do.”

  Emory crossed his arms as he stared into the distance, asking with a curious tone.

  “…What was his name again?”

  “Caelum,” Madeline said. “Caelum Jinton. Apparently, both he and Vaelen are the biological sons of Emon Moreau of Luria.”

  “No wonder that pretty face acts so extraordinary,” Emory responded. “The same must go for his brother, then.”

  “Who knows?” she smiled. “Maybe he’s not, and is more of a delinquent than you are. Perhaps it’d be a good idea to find more about him.”

  “Well, there’s definitely something going on with the whole administration team. I get the sense that he’s being protected by someone, or a group,” Emory sighed. “Talk about a privileged rich kid who doesn’t know shit but still gets what he wants.”

  The silver haired young man finally spoke, his ‘leader-like’ voice making everyone present turn towards him.

  “There is undoubtedly something revolving around that fellow.”

  He then turned towards Emory.

  “Could you find more about him for us, Emory?”

  “…Of course, August,” he smiled. “I’ll make him spill out the truth. One way or another.”

  “Now, now…” Madeline protested. “No need to get aggressive right off the bat. Take it easy at first; greet him, introduce yourself, engage in playful chatter. The usual. It’ll take you a lot further than trying to get rough first try.”

  “We don’t know him yet,” Emory chuckled. “Would be great if the brat is an actual dick like I am. He could serve as a good punching bag.”

  The lady dressed in her black turtleneck also finally spoke. Frowningly closing her eyes as she responded to the rebellious Emory.

  “I would advise against displaying unrestrained conduct. We are still amidst the training procedure; Therefore, we are more at the mercy of our supervisors as opposed to the actual Inquisition.”

  “Rowena’s got a point,” Madeline smiled. “Might be better to stay cool for a bit and go all out when stuff start to hit the fan. I believe our classes of today happen at around the same time as well, so you’re in luck.”

  Emory leaned his head back against the back support, irritatingly ticking his tongue.

  ***

  -Gaian Administrative Office Temple-

  Standing on a wide stone balcony that overlooked a beautiful shore, was Phineas, dressed in a white blouse, and Michel, the masked man who was draped in his usual black coat. Their clothes danced along the wind pressure seeping through their figures as they beheld the picturesque view in silence.

  At some point, footsteps could be heard from the hollowed interior behind. Knowing who this already was, Phineas, keeping his gaze forward, asked with a confident tone after the person came close enough.

  “How has it gone, Vash?”

  “He is exceptional at adapting, I must say,” he responded, keeping a respectful five steps distance between him and Michel. “Have you managed to speak with the Ritual Master?”

  “I have, yes. We came to a consensus that there was not a specific rule regarding the summoning of two separate Grimoires. It was quite challenging since the Ritual Master was someone who served the temple for quite some time, but thankfully, it worked out in the end.”

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  “That is perfect…” Vash smiled, lowering his head. “I assume we’ll be having a meeting with the other two Masters regarding this case, then?”

  “Send my word to them. A meeting won’t be necessary.”

  “…Okay, I will do my best.”

  As if mustering up every ounce of courage he had left in his body, he glanced at Michel’s back, which was enough for him to start feeling as if he was on the verge of collapsing on the ground. He gulped, and took several seconds before he could safely sound his words smoothly.

  “Also, I… want to thank the both of you again for this opportunity…”

  However, Phineas was not gracious as this moment. With a firm tone, he told Vash to dismiss himself. Not bothering to make eye contact whatsoever. With a respectful gesture of placing his hand against the left side of his chest, Vash departed from the balcony.

  It appeared that Phineas wanted to have all the poignant moments he could have whilst sharing a short time with the ominous masked man, who seemed to be entranced by the shore view. Phineas nervously turned his head towards him, and spoke with absolute loyalty.

  “…I must say, Michel, no matter how obscure your requests may be, I won’t question them. You handing me the throne of Luria by killing off Emon is more than enough reason I need to oblige with whatever you want me to do.”

  With a calm, and collected tone, Michel responded to him.

  “Thank you, Phineas. Your help is much appreciated.”

  -Six hours later: Jormungandr dorm-

  Kasey had rhapsodically been concentrating on her cooking within the dorm, filling it with a delightful warm scent of garlic and onions sauteing mingled with a rich, savory aroma of simmering chicken broth. She was humming folk-like cheerful songs until her immersive bubble was suddenly shattered by the sound of the front door being unlocked. In response, she put the fire on low heat, placed a cover on the pot, and walked towards the living room with raised eyebrows.

  The ones strolling in were the group shortly after their lecture of the day, all dressed in their dark green Gaian student robes. Everyone except Caelum seemed to be in a normal mood. The white haired young man looked as if he had just come out of a street fight, solemnly standing behind Vaelen, who, despite looking normal, had a worried undertone on his face.

  However, it seemed that Kasey didn’t notice this at first glance. As soon as her eyes met Declan’s, she donned a wide smile, and tilted her head as she asked with a bright tone.

  “Hiya! How’s everyone doing?”

  “We’re good,” Declan responded. As he noticed the delicious smell, he smiled. “Seems like you got busy already.”

  Yet, right as Kasey was about to respond, a shadow fell over Caelum’s eyes as he abruptly walked towards the stairs, muttering in a solemn tone.

  “…I’m going to take a nap.”

  Vaelen desperately stepped towards his direction, as all the others turned towards Caelum with slightly perplexed expressions.

  “Do you want me to accompany you?” he asked. But he was met with a cold response.

  “No.”

  As Caelum ascended the staircase, Kasey stepped towards the group, her arms folded.

  “What happened?”

  Declan sighed, staring at the staircase with his hands placed on his hips.

  “He failed a test we did today. He just needs some alone time right now, I assume.”

  “Oh… what kind of test?”

  “T’was a battle simulation against mannequins,” Geneve chimed in from behind, her arms also folded. “I can imagine how he must feel after losing while everyone else triumphed.”

  ***

  -45 minutes ago: The Gaian Academy-

  The grand hall had been encumbered in a deafening silence, punctured slightly by Caelum’s haggard breaths. The others were seated on the wooden pews; Lunar held a composed, but intrigued expression, whilst Geneve, Declan, and Vaelen were visibly distressed upon seeing the state Caelum was in.

  Vash stood right next to him as he lay defeated on the ground, his Grimoire slowly dispersing in the air. He slowly reached his hand out to Caelum, speaking with a soft tone.

  “You’ve tried your best. Come, take a recovery po-”

  Smack!

  With a swift motion, Caelum slapped his hand away. Mustering up every ounce of strength he had left in his body to stand up.

  “I… don’t need it,” he spoke in between breaths. Vash, setting his surprise and shock aside, decided to remain calm once more.

  “But you’re going to get significantly more burdened if you don’t.”

  Caelum then grinded his teeth, frowning deeply at him.

  “I said I don’t need it.”

  Without speaking any further, Caelum stormed out of the grand hall, the thundering sounds of the doors closed with force reverberating throughout the space. Vaelen sprung out of his seat, but Vash turned towards him with a serious expression, and said,

  “…Let him be.”

  —

  Following his outrage, Caelum was strugglingly wandering through one of the hallways, firmly grasping the upper left corner of his chest as his breathing became profuse. It appeared that he was trying to reach a restroom or any place that could provide him some privacy. Unfortunately, his agony was not over yet.

  Someone was approaching him from the other end of the hall, causing him to slowly raise his sweat covered face to see a tall, well-built fellow student with short trimmed dark blonde hair. A distinct rebel-like face. And upon speaking with a loud, taunting tone… it would be enough for any familiar person to recognize him.

  It was Emory.

  “Aren’t you Caelum Jinton?”

  Not knowing who this person was made the inner turmoil swirl even more prevalently within Caelum’s chest as it grew heavier with each second passing by. He could already feel the sheer imposing sensation emanating from him. It was not enough for him to cower in fear, but it certainly was to keep him quiet in response.

  Emory then stepped further up to the point of standing right before Caelum, who could barely keep himself on both feet at this point. He then asked with an authoritative tone, his hands perched in the pockets of his black jeans.

  “Not feeling like talking?”

  “…Sorry, I’m not feeling well,” Caelum said solemnly, frowning slightly. Numerous questions started to arise in his mind. Who is he? What does he want? A friend of Qlint?

  Sadly, he was not given any chance to properly consider Emory’s presence.

  “I don’t care about that. I’m asking you something, so you’re supposed to respond to me,” he said, almost acting as though he only meant harm. He leaned over, their faces only centimeters apart from each other, and spoke once more.

  “I’ve heard some interesting things about you. What did you do befor-”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  Emory raised his eyebrows, visibly surprised by Caelum’s sudden intervention and choice of words. He was of course considering the possibility of Caelum being a lot less collected than his older brother, but he could never have guessed him to be as ‘straightforward’ as this. He recoiled his head and raised his hands in the air as if surrendering himself, and spoke with a joyful, ecstatic tone.

  “Woah! Quite the big talker we have here, ey? Do I not scare you whatsoever? Aren’t you pissing in your pants just by standing in my presence right now?”

  Caelum only further stared at him with now furrowed eyes in silence. Prompting Emory to continue.

  “So what did you do before coming here?” he said, placing his fingers under his chin. “Let me guess… bad shit. You look so skinny and weak, I doubt you’d ever be able to survive in the real world. You’re just another goody two shoes like your punny older brother.”

  A dark shadow fell over Caelum’s eyes as he muttered.

  “…What did you say?”

  “Did you not hear me?” Emory chuckled as he closed his eyes. “Your bro-”

  Right before he could finish his words…

  …Caelum had plunged his fist into his face.

  He stumbled backwards, rubbing the hurting area as anger instantly fueled his entire body, concentrated through his now malice-filled eyes.

  “You… fucker…”

  Caelum, who had just rightfully punched Emory in his face, could now feel Emory’s anger that burned like wildfire, gradually scorching his body from the center of his chest. He slowly stepped backwards, and it was only then that he realized he had further pushed his body beyond the limit.

  He began to stumble over his feet as Emory slowly stepped towards him, as if fear mixed with absolute fatigue rendered his legs null. Knowing he had to get out of here, he tried to turn away, but right then—

  —Emory leapt towards him, firmly planting his right palm on the back of his neck.

  Emory threw Caelum against the wall with merciless force, causing him to slide down to the ground slowly. As he voiced out his pain, Emory instantly propelled his leg and made a clean connection to his abdomen with a tough kick.

  The trauma caused Caelum to momentarily crawl with widened eyes towards the other end of the hallway… but there was no way he could possibly escape from him at that moment. He was alone; Vaelen, and his other friends were still in the grand hall. He tried to scream, but he felt so fatigued that not even that was possible.

  And right when he was about to succumb to his wounds, Emory landed another devastating kick to his chest. And then another, and another, and another, as he repeatedly cursed Caelum with a brutal tone.

  After what seemed to be an eternity, footsteps could be heard from one side of the hallway. Caelum, his face planted against the ground, could only vaguely see a figure approaching him…

  …Sadly, it was not a figure he had seen before. It was Madeline, approaching the scene with a confused, but carefree expression.

  “Oi, Emory! What are you doing?”

  He only ticked his tongue and averted his head, and at that moment, Madeline realized what happened.

  “Oh, good lord… What did we tell you to do? You fucking idiot!”

  “If only you saw what happened, Madeline. This fucker did it first!”

  “…Let’s go. We can’t be caught here,” she muttered, eventually approaching Caelum, who was on the verge of collapsing. She playfully squatted beside him, palms on her protruding knees, as she spoke to him with an eerily mischievous tone.

  “I hate to be a meanie like Emory right now, but could you not tell anyone about this? No matter how you may be feeling, it’s best to do what I say if you don’t want any further problems, not only problems regarding the Inquisition, just so you know.”

  Her words were met with a hurtful silence. But it was enough to convince her that Caelum had painfully acknowledged her words. She stood up and walked away.

  “Come, Emory.”

  After glancing at Caelum for the last time, he turned towards her and followed her trail.

  —

  Not to Caelum’s advertence, their class for today was about to reach its crescendo. It took five minutes for him to muster up whatever crumble of strength he had left to get himself on his feet. His head felt dizzy, causing him to involuntarily lean against the wall before pushing himself further, stumbling back towards the hallway where the grand hall was situated.

  After nearing the door leading towards the others, he stopped himself, his face turning solemn, and faced the large alcove where numerous tables with chairs were situated. He slowly stepped towards the alcove, as suddenly, the door behind him swung open.

  …It was Vaelen.

  He immediately exclaimed Caelum’s name and reached for him. Holding him in his arms.

  “Are you okay?”

  “…I’m fine.”

  The others soon followed. Relieved to see him, Lunar reached for him, too, but immediately realized something was off.

  “Caelum? Did something happen?”

  Knowing Lunar’s keen personality, Caelum couldn’t help but avert his eyes and keep quiet. Yet this was not enough to stop him. Without questioning, Lunar gently pulled his lower lip lower.

  “…You have blood on your lips.”

  “I… bit myself,” Caelum responded, pushing his hand away.

  “You bit yourself? Why?” Declan asked. “Let me see.”

  “I just bit myself,” Caelum retorted once again, averting his head. “I was angry.”

  Geneve tilted her head in contemplative silence, as Declan decided to reassure him, thinking he was speaking the truth.

  “Well, Vash explained that your failure doesn’t hold much weight for whether or not you may actually enter the Inquisition. This was just-”

  “Declan,” Lunar interjected. “Give it a rest for a little. Our lecture of today is over. Let’s head back to our dorm.”

  Lunar most likely could tell that something happened to him. There were no other apparent wounds like the one on his lips, but despite having fought against the mannequin, which caused his initial wounds, Lunar sensed some sort of further trauma, as if Caelum had banged himself against a wall, or something…

  He decided not to question him at this moment. It was not the right moment, nor the right place that could serve a calming effect on his mind. To him, Caelum was already in distress after losing against the mannequin despite the rest winning. Patience was key, and Vaelen seemed to have understood that, as well.

  ***

  -Present time: Caelum’s room-

  Seated on the side edge of his bed, Caelum, as he tightly gripped his bed sheet with trembling hands, whispered to himself in a tone that could only be akin to as if he concentrated every ounce of anger and frustration he built up throughout the day and let it tear out of his tongue.

  “…That… fucking bastard!”

  “Who is he?! What… why… why the fuck is he such… such a piece of shit!!”

  “I’ll punch his guts so hard! So hard! So so so so so so fucking hard! Harder than anything he could fucking imagine!”

  “…Feeling angered?”

  A second voice… spoke out right in front of him.

  It was a voice he heard before, but not a voice he heard often.

  “Who?!”

  As he raised his head…

  …he saw Her standing in front of him with clasped hands. She was dressed in the same layered black robe as earlier.

  “…You…” he muttered silently, his mouth left ajar.