Morning activity returned slowly to Noctis's mansion while servants crossed the front grounds carrying tools, replacement tiles, and baskets of broken stone gathered from the rear courtyards. The estate still bore the scars of the previous days' training, but the violence had finally stopped, and the quiet that settled over the mansion made even the servants move more carefully, as if afraid the calm might shatter if they spoke too loudly.
The fallen angels and clergymen emerged from the mansion in organized groups beneath the morning light, their crimson-black armor reflecting softly against the polished tiles. The rhythmic clicking of armored heels followed them through the entrance hall and across the front courtyard while servants instinctively stepped aside. Nocthyrael walked near the front with composed elegance, silver hair shifting behind her as Eclipse dissolved into blood aura around her fingers, while Claire moved several positions away with one hand resting near her blood-forged rapier, her expression cold and unreadable as she passed beneath the open gates.
Rengar waited near the road with several mission notices folded beneath one arm, his ears shifting slightly as he watched them gather. "You are going to the academy mission hall," he said while the morning wind moved through the banners above the mansion gates. "You will accept missions, earn contribution points, build reputation, and avoid creating trouble that returns to this estate before Master Noctis does."
One of the male fallen angels glanced back toward the mansion's repaired front steps. "How much trouble counts as too much?"
Rengar stared at him long enough that several clergymen quietly looked away. "If the mission hall still has a roof when you leave, we can call that a successful first visit."
The group departed soon after, and the academy roads gradually became more crowded as they approached the central districts. Students moved between buildings carrying spellbooks and weapon cases, merchants arranged enchanted trinkets beneath floating signs, and transport beasts pulled wagons along the wider roads toward the mission district. The academy's morning noise continued normally at first, but as the fallen angels and clergymen moved through the roads in disciplined formation, conversations began weakening along their path.
The surrounding demons did not know what to make of them.
The armor was not academy-issued. It carried no familiar school insignia, no noble house crest, and no standard mercenary marking. Its crimson-black plates resembled Noctis's style more than anything else, though many students only vaguely understood that connection. The group's strange compact blood armaments drew even more confusion. The weapons resting along their waists and thighs resembled neither crossbows nor catalysts, neither wands nor throwing relics, and students trying to study them could not decide how such small objects were supposed to function in battle.
The female fallen angels naturally pulled attention wherever they walked. Academy boys slowed near merchant stalls and forgot their conversations, while several older adventurers looked once and then looked away after sensing the pressure beneath their beauty. The male fallen angels disturbed the academy road differently; female students and workers whispered as they passed, drawn by their height, armor, and cold predatory composure before the aura around them reminded everyone that staring too long might not be wise.
The clergymen remained the most unsettling. They did not invite admiration in the same way. Their presence felt colder, heavier, and harder to understand. A few demons rubbed their arms after passing too close, feeling something faintly incompatible beneath the blood and abyssal pressure surrounding them. None of them could name it, but the sensation made them keep distance.
By the time the group reached the mission district, the academy road behind them had filled with murmurs.
The mission hall itself was already crowded. Multiple floors rose above a vast central chamber filled with floating displays, rotating contract boards, and long counters where reception workers processed reports from students, mercenary demons, and academy-linked adventurers. Contribution rankings glowed across a high wall beneath demonic crystal lights while messengers carried sealed request tablets between counters. Voices overlapped from every direction: arguments over contract grading, complaints about reward disputes, laughter from returning teams, and the constant shuffle of boots across polished black stone.
The hall did not become silent when the fallen angels and clergymen entered. It changed more slowly than that. Noise near the entrance weakened first as the clicking of armored heels spread across the floor. Then nearby students turned, then adventurers at the contract boards, then reception workers who were mid-sentence with other teams. The building continued functioning, but more attention bent toward the formation crossing the hall beneath the crystal light.
Rengar approached the nearest senior counter while Nocthyrael, Claire, the fallen angels, and the clergymen spread behind him in loose order. The receptionist looked up, prepared to ask for the next student token, and immediately forgot the words after seeing the number of unfamiliar figures behind him.
"We are here to accept academy missions," Rengar said while placing the folded notices on the counter.
The receptionist recovered enough to nod and lifted a registration slate from beneath the counter. "Student identification tokens, please."
Rengar remained calm. "They have not received them yet."
Her hand paused over the slate. Around the nearby counters, two other workers glanced over as the conversation reached them. "They have not received tokens?" she asked carefully, keeping her voice professional despite the pressure gathering around the counter. "Are they registered through the academy?"
"They were sent here under Master Noctis's authority."
The name moved through the nearby crowd like a spark catching dry grass.
Several students turned immediately. A mercenary demon near the submission line lowered the beast-hide report in his hand. One receptionist who had been stamping completion seals slowed mid-motion and looked toward the group with widened eyes.
"Noctis?" someone whispered near the mission board. "The vice principal's student?"
"The vampire who keeps breaking academy grounds?"
"I heard he lives in that mansion now."
"I heard Valdred dragged him away personally."
The rumors were not coordinated, and most contradicted each other, but the name carried enough weight that the mission hall's attention tightened around the counter. Nobody outside the academy leadership knew the truth of the hidden fortress or the crimson sword that had fallen beyond the frontier, but Noctis's public reputation needed no such secret. He was already known as the abnormal vampire who survived impossible incidents, damaged academy facilities, gained special treatment from Valdred, and returned from missions with powers no one fully understood.
The receptionist swallowed carefully. "Please wait here."
She sent a message through the counter formation, and within minutes the mission hall manager descended from the upper administrative walkway. He was an older demon with gray-black horns, narrow eyes, and the practiced calm of someone accustomed to handling dangerous students, but even his expression shifted slightly when he saw the full group gathered below.
His gaze passed over the crimson-black armor, the unknown blood armaments, the clergymen's oppressive presence, and Rengar standing at the counter. Recognition settled across his face.
"You are the group assigned under Student Noctis," he said.
Rengar nodded once. "Yes."
The manager turned toward an assistant without wasting time. "Bring the secured registration case authorized by Vice Principal Valdred."
The assistant stiffened. "The special case?"
"The special case," the manager repeated, and the assistant hurried toward the upper office stairs while the nearby staff exchanged uneasy looks.
The crowd kept pretending not to listen and failed completely.
When the assistant returned carrying a black reinforced case wrapped in security formations, the surrounding hall had already shifted into open observation. Adventurers leaned away from the mission boards to watch. Students abandoned their place in line and pretended to examine nearby contracts. Two reception workers whispered behind stacked mission tablets until the manager's glance silenced them.
The manager placed the case on the counter and released the seals one by one. Inside rested thirty-eight academy identification tokens arranged in neat rows, each one engraved with personal registration marks, contribution account access, and mission authorization.
A ripple moved through the hall as people realized the academy had already recognized the entire group.
"These tokens were prepared several days ago under direct vice principal authorization," the manager explained while distributing them. "They were never retrieved because the assigned members had only recently arrived."
Nocthyrael accepted hers with mild interest before storing it away. Claire took hers silently. The male fallen angels and clergymen followed one by one, their expressions calm enough that the surrounding workers became even more nervous. To the mission hall staff, academy registration was supposed to feel like a process. To this group, it seemed like a formality barely worth acknowledging.
The receptionist adjusted the registration slate with slightly trembling fingers once the final token was confirmed. "You may now accept missions. Contribution points will transfer automatically upon completion review."
Rengar gave a short nod and turned toward the group.
The mission boards became the next center of chaos.
The fallen angels and clergymen did not crowd one board like ordinary new students. They spread efficiently across multiple displays, reading rank classifications, danger notes, distance estimates, and contribution rewards while the surrounding students slowly realized they were not even glancing at low-rank requests. Contracts that had remained untouched for weeks were removed from upper boards with calm hands and unreadable expressions.
Nocthyrael paused beneath a glowing board listing high-risk elimination contracts and scanned several requests before taking one involving rogue vampire suppression near a border settlement. Claire, from another section entirely, selected an artifact retrieval mission attached to a corrupted ruin under unstable ward activity. The separation between them had been arranged so naturally that no one outside the group would understand it, but several fallen angels exchanged knowing glances when they realized the two women had been placed on different routes.
Adrian moved toward a board surrounded by warning sigils and studied a dimensional anomaly investigation linked to an abandoned shrine. Nearby students had avoided that request for nearly a month because several scouting teams had returned injured and unable to properly describe what they saw inside. He removed the contract calmly while several adventurers watched in disbelief.
The Crimson Marshals gathered around criminal suppression and fortress-clearing requests. Dread Judicators selected assassination and pursuit missions involving rogue cult remnants, oath-breakers, and corrupted commanders hiding in demon territory. Several bishops accepted escort and stabilization missions that required ritual expertise, though the reception workers looked uncomfortable when those same bishops handled contracts involving holy-tainted zones without flinching.
The hall's noise grew again, but now it carried a different texture. People spoke in lower voices. They pointed with their eyes more than their fingers. Workers hurried between counters trying to process multiple high-ranking requests at once, while one clerk nearly assigned the wrong mission seal because he kept staring at a female fallen angel reading two contracts side by side.
Rengar moved between the teams and corrected assignments without raising his voice. "Nocthyrael, western route. Claire, eastern ruin. Marcus and Victor, take the fortress suppression request. Adrian, choose two clergymen for the anomaly investigation. Eva, Hannah, and Sophia, take reconnaissance and retrieval together. Do not combine unnecessary high-risk objectives until you understand academy reporting standards."
Eva smiled faintly while folding her contract. "Unnecessary?"
Rengar looked toward her. "If your report requires more than one incident review committee, it was unnecessary."
Several nearby students who overheard the exchange became visibly pale.
The mission hall manager remained near the counter watching the entire process with a complicated expression. The academy had registered powerful students before. It had accepted dangerous nobles, demonic bloodline heirs, reckless prodigies, and mercenaries with questionable histories. This was different. Thirty-eight individuals had entered as a single Noctis-linked force, received vice principal-authorized tokens, and immediately claimed missions that ordinary students considered borderline suicidal.
By the time the mission assignments were sealed, the rumor had already outgrown the hall.
Noctis had formed a faction. Noctis's people had entered the mission system. Noctis's group included beings with strange holy pressure. Noctis's followers carried unknown blood weapons. Noctis's followers were accepting high-rank missions before attending a single class.
None of the rumors were complete, but all of them spread.
The teams began leaving in staggered order, and the crowd parted more quickly this time. The clicking of armored heels echoed across the polished floor as groups moved toward different exits, their crimson-black armor catching the overhead crystal lights. Adventurers who had spoken loudly minutes earlier became quiet when the clergymen passed. Students who wanted to stare at the female fallen angels lowered their eyes after Nocthyrael's gaze crossed the room. Several female demons watched the male fallen angels leave with obvious interest, only to hesitate whenever the aura around them brushed against the surrounding crowd.
Near the entrance, Nocthyrael and Claire paused briefly as their teams diverged toward separate academy roads. Their eyes met across the moving bodies, mission tablets, and drifting hall lights. Neither spoke. Neither needed to. The tension between them remained hidden beneath composure, but the fallen angels closest to them subtly increased the distance between the two routes just in case.
Then Nocthyrael turned toward the western road, and Claire moved toward the eastern gate.
The mission hall continued buzzing long after the last group left.
Reception workers whispered while reorganizing mission records. Students hurried out to spread what they had seen. Adventurers returned to the boards with far more caution than before, glancing repeatedly at the empty spaces where high-ranking contracts had been removed.
Far beneath the academy, Noctis remained seated beneath the preservation lights of the cultivation chamber, turning another ancient scroll with careful hands while completely unaware that his absent name had already begun reshaping the academy above him.