The roaring didn't stop.
If anything, it mutated. It evolved from a spontaneous explosion of shock into a sustained, deafening wave of raw, unfiltered adrenaline. The grand plaza of the academy was practically vibrating.
Wooooooooo! Yeah! Sinclair! The cheers overlapped with heated arguments, creating a chaotic symphony that echoed off the white stone towers of the academy.
I stood in my little pocket of shadows near the back pillar, sipping my terrible coffee, watching the social hierarchy of the Academy of Aetherion actively dismantle itself. It was beautiful.
Students who had been wearing the silver-and-violet pins of the Second Prince just minutes ago were discreetly taking them off and shoving them into their pockets. The commoners who had been starry-eyed over Aurelius were now gathered in tight, animated clusters, pointing toward Serene's modest wooden stage.
'She didn't just give a speech,' I thought, letting out a dry, amused Heh.
'She threw a lit match into a powder keg.'
I watched Serene step down from the amplification crystal. Her expression was perfectly controlled, but I could see the slight tension in her shoulders melting away. Beside her, Aria Ashborne was smiling—a slow, terrifyingly brilliant smile that promised absolute ruin for anyone who tried to stand in their way.
The political landscape was fractured. With over thirty different representatives running for the Student Council Presidency—mostly proxy candidates set up by major noble houses just to split the votes—the election had been a bloated, bureaucratic nightmare. But now? Now it was a three-way war. Arey. Aurelius. Serene.
Just as the crowd's chatter reached a fever pitch, a sharp, resonant sound cut through the noise.
THWACK!
It wasn't amplified by magic, but the sheer physical force behind the sound of a wooden staff striking the stone podium sent a physical shockwave through the plaza.
The buzzing died instantly. Thousands of heads snapped toward the center stage.
Instructor Seraphina Valencrest stepped up to the amplification crystal.
She wasn't wearing her ceremonial instructor robes. She was in her sleek, reinforced combat gear, looking less like a teacher about to give an announcement and more like a general about to order an execution. Her raven-black hair was tied high, and her steel-gray eyes swept over the plaza with the warmth of a blizzard.
'It's been a while, teach,' I thought, straightening up slightly.
I hadn't seen her in over a month. Not since the day Edward El Blackwood had dropped Ione and me into an amusement park full of Shriven and left us to fend for ourselves. After that, Seraphina had handed my formal training over to Edward, stating she was "busy" with academy security measures and would call on me when her schedule cleared.
Seeing her now, radiating that familiar, oppressive aura, I felt a strange sense of nostalgia. And dread. Mostly dread.
She didn't wait for total silence. She commanded it simply by standing there.
"Hello, students. And to the many, many representatives currently vying for the Student Council Election."
Her voice wasn't loud. She didn't shout. But the mana she infused into the crystal projected her voice so perfectly it felt like she was standing right next to every single person in the plaza.
"You all have every right to vote for the representative you like," Seraphina continued, her tone deadpan. "Democracy is a foundational pillar of this institution. However."
She leaned forward slightly, resting both hands on her staff.
"There are currently over thirty representatives from different factions standing for this election."
A collective, nervous murmur rippled through the crowd. Thirty was an absurd number. Half of them were joke candidates, and the other half were just noble houses trying to stroke their own egos.
"Due to this… excessive increase in the amount of representatives," Seraphina said, her lips thinning into a line that was definitely not a smile, "the Principal herself has intervened."
Gasp.
The reaction was immediate. The Principal of Aetherion Academy was practically a ghost. A mythical figure who rarely, if ever, involved herself in the day-to-day operations of the students. If she was stepping in, things were serious.
"The Principal has decided that a simple ballot box is insufficient to measure the true weight of a leader," Seraphina announced.
"Therefore, to thin the herd, we will be hosting a Tournament for the election. Starting tomorrow."
My eyes widened.
'A tournament arc?' I groaned internally, pinching the bridge of my nose.
'Are you kidding me? Of course it's a tournament arc. It's a magical academy! Why solve complex political socio-economic issues with debates when you can just punch each other in the face?'
Inside my head, a familiar, distinctly feminine voice squealed with delight.
[A TOURNAMENT?!]
Nyxaris screamed, her spiritual presence practically vibrating against my hip.
[YES! Oh, finally! We are going to sever some limbs! We are going to bathe this plaza in the blood of arrogant teenagers! Rias, tell me we are entering!]
'Calm down, you rusty bloodhound,' I snapped back mentally. 'I'm trying to listen.'
"The tournament will be conducted across four trials," Seraphina's voice boomed, cutting through the rising panic of the weaker candidates. "And there are strict parameters."
She raised a single finger.
"First. From each faction, only five members may participate as a team."
Buzz... buzz... The crowd erupted again. Only five? Some of these factions had hundreds of members. Choosing only five meant boiling down an entire political movement into a single elite strike squad.
"Second," Seraphina continued, raising a second finger, "the chosen Representative of each faction has a mandatory compulsion of participation. If the leader does not fight, the team is immediately eliminated."
I looked over at Serene. She didn't flinch. In fact, she looked almost relieved. She was a powerhouse; a physical tournament favored her far more than a popularity contest did.
Aurelius, too, looked unbothered. He was at a peak Sword Expert. This was his element.
But a lot of the other candidates? The soft, pampered nobles who relied on their wealth and their bodyguards? They were looking incredibly pale right now.
"Third," Seraphina said, her steel eyes flashing.
"The trials will remain completely unknown until the moment you step into them. You will not be able to prepare specific counter-measures. The students will have to adapt accordingly and work as a single unit."
She stepped away from the podium, pacing slowly across the stage.
"This has been done for a reason. Anyone can smile and make promises on a sunny stage. But this academy does not forge politicians; we forge shields for humanity. We need to check if your faction has strong leadership. We need to see if you can work as a team in unpredictable, difficult situations, and stand firm when the world tries to break you."
Her gaze swept over the crowd, and for a fraction of a second, I swore her eyes locked onto the pillar I was hiding behind.
"The tournament will start tomorrow morning," she declared.
"It will last for exactly four days. One trial per day."
She stopped pacing and faced the crowd head-on.
"At the end of the four days, only four teams will remain. Only those four factions will be given the authority to participate in the final, school-wide election. The remaining twenty-six factions will be eliminated from the ballot entirely."
Silence.
Absolute, crushing silence.
The stakes had just skyrocketed from a simple popularity contest to a brutal survival of the fittest. Twenty-six factions were going to be wiped out before anyone even cast a single vote.
"So," Seraphina concluded, a faint, predatory smirk finally touching her lips. "Be ready for the tournament tomorrow morning. Assemble your teams wisely. Dismissed."
She turned and walked off the stage, her cape snapping behind her.
The moment she was gone, the plaza descended into absolute anarchy.
"Five people?! How are we supposed to choose five?!"
"We need a healer! Find a healer immediately!"
"My Lord, you can't fight! You haven't swung a sword since primary school!"
It was beautiful chaos.
I pushed off the marble pillar, tossing my empty coffee cup into a nearby disposal bin.
'Well,' I thought, cracking my neck. 'That accelerates the timeline.'
[Who are we killing first?]Nyxaris hummed eagerly.
[The shiny blonde prince? The arrogant silver-haired prince? Oh, what about that big brute with the earth spear you humiliated? Let's cut him in half this time!]
'We aren't killing anyone, Nyx,' I sighed.
'This is a school event. And more importantly, I need to figure out how I fit into this.'
I looked through the scrambling crowd toward Serene's stage.
She was already huddled with her core group. Aria Ashborne was still sitting in her chair, looking thoroughly entertained by the panic spreading around them. Trent was gesticulating wildly, clearly stressed, while Lira looked like she was trying to calculate team compositions in her head.
Five members.
Serene was the representative. That was one.
Aria was a guaranteed pick. With her terrifying intellect and dark magic, leaving her out would be a tactical sin. That was two.
Trent, despite being a loudmouth, was a solid heavy-hitter with defensive capabilities. Three.
Lira was a top-tier support mage. Four.
That left one spot.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and started walking toward them.
I didn't want to be in a tournament. I hated tournaments. They meant exposure, exhaustion, and a high probability of having to explain why I suddenly didn't fight like a wet noodle anymore.
But if Serene lost this tournament, the election was over. And if the election was over, she fell back onto the path of the villainess.
I navigated through a group of panicking second-years, keeping my head down.
As I approached the edge of the wooden stage, Serene looked up. The heated debate between her and Trent died instantly.
She looked at me. I looked at her.
"You heard the rules," she said, her voice dropping the loud, projected tone from her speech, returning to the sharp, calculating girl I had bargained with in the cafeteria.
"I heard them," I replied, stopping at the base of the stairs.
"Five members."
"Trent, Lira, Aria, and myself," she listed off, confirming my exact mental math. She crossed her arms, the crimson embroidery on her coat catching the light.
"We have an open slot."
"I see."
"Do you want it, Leonhart?" she asked, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly, testing me.
"Or does your grand strategy only involve whispering in cafeterias and letting us do the heavy lifting?"
Aria let out a soft, melodic laugh from her chair.
"Oh, don't tease him, Serene. I have a feeling Rias is quite capable of heavy lifting."
I shot Aria a flat look. She just winked at me. Terrifying woman.
I looked back at Serene.
"Tournaments are loud," I said slowly, scratching the back of my neck. "They're flashy. I prefer the shadows."
Trent scoffed.
"Then stay out of our way. We'll find a fifth from the combat division."
"But," I continued, completely ignoring Trent's existence, "if you bring in a random fifth, your team dynamics will be compromised. The unknown trials are designed to test adaptability. You need a variable. Someone who doesn't just hit hard, but thinks sideways."
I took a step up onto the stage.
"You need someone to read the script, so you can focus on burning it."
Serene stared at me for a long, quiet moment. She was remembering the cafeteria. She was remembering the fact that I had somehow predicted Arey's exact extortion strategy, which had just given her the best political ammunition of the entire campaign.
The corner of her mouth twitched upwards.
"Fine," Serene said, holding out a hand.
"You're in. But if you hold us back, I will personally throw you to the monsters."
I reached out and shook her hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong, radiating a faint, residual heat.
"Deal," I said, a slow smile spreading across my face.
[Oh, this is going to be so much fun!] Nyxaris shrieked in my head.
I let go of Serene's hand and looked out over the chaotic plaza. The royal factions were scrambling. The weak factions were despairing. And the five of us were standing on a wooden stage, entirely calm.
The Side Character, the Future Villainess, the Silver Rose, the loudmouth tank, and the support mage.
It was a ridiculous composition. A court of misfits and monsters.
'Tomorrow morning,' I thought, feeling the compressed mana hum warmly in my chest.
'Let's show this academy exactly how dangerous the shadows can be.'