Three days had passed since the presidential election.
Lucien Wyrhart was back in his usual state of semi-sarcastic, half-awake irritation, lounging sideways in the squad dorm’s war room—formerly known as the “common study hall” before they put an enchanted table that projected enemy movements (read: teacher schedules and cafeteria pudding stock), and decred it a command center.
A war was coming.
Not with monsters.
Not with politics.
But with love.
More specifically: Gram’s accidental crush on Princess Celestia Ardyn Sarnhild, first-year prodigy, ice queen, and now elected student council president. And somehow, their mission now was to ensure this poor, innocent alchemist would actually date the most terrifyingly regal girl in the school.
And it all started with Eli pinning a crude, enchanted whiteboard drawing of Celestia to the wall and writing “OPERATION: GRAM X CELESTIA” in glowing red letters above it.
“Step one,” Eli began, pacing like a battle commander. “Understand the target.”
Lucien raised a hand. “She’s too good for him.”
Gram groaned from his seat, face buried in his hands. “Can we not—”
“Silence, potion goblin,” Reille cut in, her eyes fshing. “You embarrassed us in public. You betrayed Squad 7. You distributed free potions for her. You blushed, Gram. Blushed!”
“I’m not trained for emotional combat,” he whined.
“Then it’s time to learn,” Lucien muttered, sipping from a cup beled “Cynicism Juice”, which was probably just cold tea he forgot about.
Eli pointed at Celestia’s glowing diagram on the wall.
“She’s royalty. She's serious. She's graceful. She gives off the aura of someone who could kill you with kindness. And she's your type, apparently.”
“W-what’s my type?” Gram asked.
“Women who could crush your heart and still walk away looking like they own the empire,” Lucien answered ftly.
“Exactly,” Reille said.
“So, how do we do this?” Gram asked nervously.
Lucien leaned back in his chair and tapped the table with one finger. “We make her fall for you. But not with charm. Not with looks. We don’t have those.”
“...thanks,” Gram muttered.
“We use the only weapon we have—chaos.”
Eli nodded seriously. “Operation Gram x Celestia will proceed in three phases.”
Phase I: ‘Accidental’ HeroismLucien, Reille, and Eli rigged an encounter with Celestia in the greenhouse courtyard—where Gram was supposed to save her from a ‘wild’ magical pnt.
It was Ember.
In a bush costume.
They even wrote lines for Gram.
But instead of pulling off a graceful rescue, Gram tripped over his cloak, threw a potion at Ember’s snout, and exploded the entire greenhouse.
Celestia emerged covered in ash and petals, blinking calmly.
“That... was unexpected.”
Gram, dazed and smoking slightly, stood up and blurted, “I’m sorry, I was trying to rescue you but I think the pnt was too strong!”
Celestia blinked again. “...You tried to protect me?”
“I-I think so!”
“...That’s either brave,” she said, brushing petals off her shoulder, “or incredibly reckless.”
Behind the hedge, Reille whispered, “She’s not rejecting him.”
Lucien smirked. “We continue.”
Phase II: ‘Coincidental’ Intellectual BondingThey pnted Gram in the library.
Reille ‘accidentally’ switched Celestia’s reserved seat to be next to him.
Lucien provided a cursed potion catalog for Gram to ‘study,’ one that somehow included a spell that unfolded itself with loud, embarrassing love poetry when touched.
Celestia sat down.
The book activated.
“—Oh my fairest maiden, thou art like the moonlight dancing on—”
SLAM.
Celestia shut the book.
Gram turned pale.
She looked at him. “Do you enjoy this sort of poetry?”
“N-No! I mean—it was a cursed book. I was researching!”
Celestia paused. Then...
She ughed.
A soft, regal chuckle like silver bells.
Lucien and Eli peeked from behind the bookshelf. “She. Laughed. We got her. This is a win.”
Phase III: Duel of AffectionOf course someone had to duel.
This was Welliston.
A second-year noble from another squad who had a long-standing crush on Celestia challenged Gram for her “honor,” convinced Gram was “harassing her with courtship tactics unfit for a princess.”
The school approved it instantly.
Lucien whispered, “He has no chance.”
Reille cracked her knuckles. “He insulted Gram. Ours. We destroy him.”
But Gram stood his ground.
“I’ll do this,” he said, and for once, he didn’t stammer.
The duel began.
It was potion bombs versus polished sword magic.
It looked one-sided—until Gram pulled a new creation from his belt.
Something glowing purple.
Lucien screamed from the audience, “NOT THAT ONE!”
Too te.
BOOM.
The entire arena filled with pink fog. Glitter exploded. Everyone watching now sparkled.
Lucien: “He’s going to die.”
Reille: “I’ll kill the noble. You hide the body.”
But then...
The noble froze mid-charge.
Celestia stood.
And decred, “I concede this duel on behalf of my admirer. This was... unexpectedly effective.”
The fog cleared.
Everyone stared.
Celestia walked up to Gram and said, “You are unpredictable. Illogical. And slightly mad.”
Then, with an amused smile—
“I find that refreshing.”
AftermathBack in the dorm, Lucien was sketching on a bckboard beled: Celestia Mood Graph.
Eli was writing a journal beled: How to Win a Princess Through Explosions.
Reille was asleep with her head on Lucien’s shoulder, muttering, “She won’t take him. She won’t.”
And Gram?
He stared at the ceiling.
“...Guys. I think I have a date.”
Lucien didn’t even look up.
“God help her.”
Reille muttered, “If she breaks your heart, I break her throne.”
Eli sighed. “So... what’s our next mission?”
Lucien finally grinned. That slow, dangerous grin.
“Operation Royal Wedding, of course.”
And thus began the next era of Squad 7.
No longer just the chaos mages, the monsters of Welliston, or the underdogs of destruction.
Now?
Matchmakers.
Terrifying, unpredictable, wildly inappropriate matchmakers.
And the world?
Was not ready.
