Jeanne sat near the window seat, her gaze fixed intently on the clouds drifting across the afternoon sky. Two hours had passed since Amon had abruptly teleported their entire class and Professor Celestia off the training grounds, locking them safely inside the House Representatives Room. Now, she was attending her third class of the day: Magic Studies. It was only their first official day at R.S. Advanced Academy, yet Amon Von Crown had already shattered every baseline expectation.
Her mind constantly replayed his actions. First, he had threatened a Marquess's heir with execution over a petty insult directed at him and Seraphina. While Christopher Genius was undeniably at fault for his severe lack of manners, such a hyper-violent escalation from someone as profoundly calculated as Amon felt entirely incorrect.
Then came the Familiar Summoning test anomaly. He had manifested something so volatile that it forced a mass spatial displacement of the entire freshman elite. While the event itself was deeply abnormal, Jeanne rationalised that the chaotic nature of summoning rituals always carried a high-risk luck factor, so she brushed the magical technicalities aside.
"You are far too calculating to react so explosively to a petty remark, Amon Von Crown," she thought, her eyes narrowing as she studied the horizon. "What game are you actually playing?"
"Miss Nova, what exactly is so profoundly interesting outside that window? Care to enlighten the rest of the class?"
The sharp, audible reprimand instantly shattered Jeanne's train of thought, snapping her attention back to the front of the lecture hall.
Standing behind the podium was Professor Judy Pincer. She was a fair-skinned young woman with distinct brown-silver hair styled into tightly curled drill pigtails, secured by prominent brown ribbons, with short, spiky bangs framing her forehead. Her piercing black eyes locked onto Jeanne, drawn by her notably small, petite physique. Her attire consisted of an intricate, long silver dress paired with pristine white boots, drawing heavy structural inspiration from classic Lolita fashion.
"It's a beautiful day, Professor," Jeanne replied smoothly as she rose from her seat, her voice calm, composed, and carrying the weight of her noble elegance. "I was simply admiring it."
"Really?" Judy tilted her head, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. "Then could you perhaps enlighten us all about the structural differences between Elemental, Null, and Personal Magic, and turn this day even more beautiful for the rest of the class?"
"Of course," Jeanne chuckled softly at the Professor's challenge.
With a poised, measured stride, she walked down the steps of the lecture hall toward the podium, turning to stand right beside Judy. Standing at her full height, Jeanne made Professor Judy look like a child beside her; indeed, if anyone in the room didn't know better, they would have mistaken the small instructor for a stray elementary schooler.
"Let's start with the baseline of what we collectively call Magic," Jeanne began, her voice instantly projecting a commanding confidence that demanded attention. "Magic is fundamentally a phenomenon that produces effects in accordance with a specified law. To put it simply, it is the manifestation of one's imagination into external reality through the precise manipulation of magium."
The casual chatter in the lecture hall died down completely. The entire class suddenly became deeply immersed in her cadence, every student's eyes fixed squarely on her.
"There are three distinct, foundational branches of Magic," Jeanne continued her explanation, pacing gracefully in front of the chalkboard. "Elemental, Null, and Personal. These three branches make up the entire framework of everything we currently understand about reality manipulation."
"Let's break down Elemental Magic first." She elegantly conjured her wand into her hand. With a sharp, practised flick of her wrist, nine distinct, glowing elemental visages manifested in a beautiful semi-circle directly behind her. "Elemental Magic, as the name heavily implies, is the direct manipulation of natural, tangible elements. It consists of nine primary types: Earth, Water, Fire, Wind, Ice, Lightning, Nature, Light, and Dark."
"Moving on to Null Magic," Jeanne flicked her wand once more. The nine natural visages dissolved instantly, replaced by seven stark, surreal geometric symbols that hummed with a strange pressure. "There is a wide variety of Null Magic across the historical records, but the primary categories we utilise are these seven major types: Creation, Destruction, Time, Space, Illusion, Void, and Gravity."
"As for our final branch," Jeanne flicked her wand for the last time, and all the glowing symbols vanished, leaving only the ambient light of the classroom. "Personal Magic is largely self-explanatory. It is the highly specialised branch where an individual develops a unique set of spells tailored specifically to their own soul structure—spells that can only be channelled by them. The precise magical matrix an individual develops here can even be structurally passed down through bloodlines from generation to generation."
She turned back to face the students, concluding her lecture with absolute authority.
"To summarise: Elemental Magic is the branch that makes use of Creation's physical elements, while Null Magic is the branch that makes use of Creation's abstract, conceptual laws. Personal Magic, meanwhile, is the branch that draws exclusively from its user's unfiltered imagination. While any elemental or null magic can technically be integrated to form the foundation of someone's personal magic, a true Personal Magic itself cannot be categorised as a standard type of those two branches."
With those definitive words, Jeanne quietly lowered her wand, flawlessly concluding her explanation. At that exact moment, the heavy double doors of the lecture hall swung open with a resonant creak, completely cutting off the room's lingering awe over Jeanne's presentation.
Every single head in the room snapped toward the entrance, staring blankly at the trio that stepped over the threshold as if they were looking at something exotic.
Amon Von Crown stood there, looking visibly drained, his skin noticeably paler than usual beneath his crimson blindfold. But it was the two strange, imposing women flanking him that caused the ambient temperature in the lecture hall to plummet. The sheer, unclassified aura of absolute power radiating off their tall forms hung heavily in the air, instantly suffocating the casual academic atmosphere.
"Ah, I was wondering why my exact head count of the house representatives didn't match up on the roster," Professor Judy remarked, a prominent vein visibly bulging against her forehead as her spiky bangs twitched. "Would you mind enlightening us all as to why exactly you are late to my lecture, Crown?"
"It is entirely because of these two," Amon replied slowly, his voice laced with a deep exhaustion as he pointed a sluggish finger to the women at his sides. "I formally assigned names to them, and subsequently suffered from an immediate, catastrophic case of Magium Deficiency Syndrome. It caused me to end up unconscious in the infirmary until just a few moments ago."
"Yeah, I am certain that was precisely the case," Professor Judy remarked, her tone dripping with pure, unadulterated sarcasm as she crossed her arms, looking like an annoyed child trying to intimidate a giant. "Regardless of your colourful medical excuses, you are going to be serving an immediate detention for showing up late on your very first day. I don't exactly care about your reasons, Crown. Rules are rules."
. . .
"I still cannot believe the lack of flexibility," Amon muttered, aggressively forking a grape from his plate and popping it into his mouth. "Receiving an official detention simply because I couldn't attend her class on time? I literally told her my reason."
Seraphina, Jeanne, Calisto, and Amon all sat gathered around a pristine marble table in the central cafeteria. The academy's dining hall was nothing short of a five-star, ultra-luxurious hotel pavilion; the unmatched, posh vibe of the architecture and the gourmet spreads clearly demonstrated exactly why R.S. Advanced Academy stood as the top-tier institution within the Riversong Empire.
"Well, she did explicitly state that rules are rules, Amon," Jeanne chuckled softly at his uncharacteristic venting, finding immense amusement in his rare annoyance.
"She merely needed to vent her residual psychological frustration on a convenient target because she failed to successfully bully you, Jeanne," Amon countered, locking his blank, blindfolded gaze onto her. "Judging by how you were standing directly beside her podium when I entered, I assume she forced you to deliver a segment of her lecture because you were caught completely daydreaming. Specifically, explaining the core branches of Magic."
"Oh my, you are entirely spot-on with your analytical assumption, good boy~" Jeanne's eyes glinted with a sharp, highly playful mischief. "It is truly incredible how you managed to flawlessly deduce the exact micro-variables of the situation without even being physically present in the room~"
"Oh, please, stop acting as if you couldn't calculate the same conclusion given the data," Amon replied, dismissing her praise with a slight nod of his head as he focused back on cleaning his platter.
Compared to the heavy, decadent royal meals around them, Amon's chosen lunch was exceptionally simple and performance-oriented—consisting entirely of a calculated assortment of fresh fruits, a single portion of scrambled eggs, and a light fish salad.
"You two are quite close from the sounds of it," Calisto commented politely, a warm, genuine smile etched onto his handsome face.
Calisto Castellano was a tall, dark-skinned young man with striking, deep purple hair and kind, highly perceptive black eyes. His finely built athletic physique, combined with an effortless, gentle charisma, made him an incredibly charming presence at the table.
"Well, he happens to be the only representative in our entire bracket who can actually give me a true run for my money~" Jeanne replied in a deeply playful, melodic tone. "So, of course, we are quite naturally close~"
"Correction," Amon interjected smoothly, casually lifting a piece of scrambled egg to his mouth and savouring the taste. "She mechanically cannot beat me even if she deploys her absolute hardest effort. And our baseline scores from the Entrance Exam stand as a permanent statistical reminder of that reality."
"Are... you truly alright, Amon?" Seraphina asked softly, her delicate features etched with a deep, gentle concern as she leaned in slightly. "You mentioned to the Professor that you suffered from Magium Deficiency Syndrome... that isn't something to be taken lightly."
"I seem perfectly fine now, do I not, Sera?" Amon turned toward her, his expression softening into an assuring smile that instantly eased the tension in her shoulders. "Even though my internal magium reserves became drier than a barren desert during the naming process, I have already recovered the vast majority of my capacity, thanks entirely to my high magium refinement and my newly contracted familiars."
"Really? That quickly?" Seraphina looked genuinely surprised, her eyes widening.
"Anyone suffering from total magium depletion should have taken at least a week of strict bed rest to safely recover, though, Crown," Calisto interjected, a profound, clinical surprise evident in his voice as he heard Amon's words.
"Yes, under normal circumstances," Amon chuckled at their synchronised reactions, swirling the remaining water in his glass. "But as I have stated, my personal magium refinement is exceptionally high. Furthermore, the familiars I anchored are abnormally powerful, meaning their existence played a monumental factor in accelerating my speedy recovery."
"Actually, that reminds me," Jeanne leaned her chin on her palm, her sapphire eyes flashing with a playful, razor-sharp curiosity that pinned him to his seat. "What exact classification of familiars did you even manage to pull out of that fractured array, good boy?"
"The Primordial Beast of Desire, Amou, and the Primordial Beast of Maternity, Tiamat," Amon answered casually, as if he were merely listing a pair of common woodland sprites. "Oh, and for the record, I assigned those specific names to them myself during the naming process."
The table went completely silent instantly.
Jeanne's playful grin froze, her sapphire eyes widening in genuine, rare surprise. Meanwhile, Calisto and Seraphina's expressions morphed into a stark, heavy mixture of utter shock and profound disbelief.
"It sounds entirely unbelievable, I am aware, but it is the absolute truth." Amon offered a casual, relaxed smile, as if he had simply announced he had adopted a pair of stray cats. "Oh, and for the record, they were summoned completely by mistake. Not only that, they forcefully bound themselves to my soul matrix despite my vocal complaints—"
Before he could even finish his sentence, Calisto abruptly cut him off, his standard noble composure entirely evaporating.
"Do you even remotely comprehend the weight of what you are saying right now, Crown?" Calisto's voice dropped into a harsh, tense whisper, utterly thick with disbelief as he stared at Amon with wide, shocked eyes. "Two literal doomsday-class entities operating as your personal familiars... that structurally makes you the single most dangerous individual currently residing within the borders of the Riversong Empire."
"Well, that is statistically inaccurate. The Empress, the Four Aristocrats, and the Headmistress of R.S. Advanced Academy are still vastly stronger than I am," Amon laughed softly at Calisto's intense escalation, dismissively waving a hand as he took another sip of his water. "Then, of course, there is also the Director of the Magic Research Department. I am hardly a threat compared to them."
"Why exactly are you revealing such critically confidential information to us?" Jeanne questioned, her amethyst eyes narrowing to sharp slits as she tried to map out Amon's hidden motivations.
"Because I need you all to understand," Amon replied, turning his head slightly toward her, a calm, deliberate smile etched on his face. "That I possess the capability to completely change the tide of any situation, should I wish to do so. Therefore, I would highly prefer it if you all chose not to make an enemy of me during our time at this Academy."
"You are indirectly framing that warning for the Genius Family, aren't you?" The sudden realisation hit Jeanne like a physical jolt, causing a sharp, knowing grin to spread across her lips. "Threatening Christopher during the exam wasn't enough for you, was it? You're setting up a structural deterrent."
"Whatever floats your boat, Jeanne," Amon shrugged indifferently, smoothly rising from his seat with his empty platter in hand and heading toward the automated disposal counters.
"You were entirely right, Jeanne," Amon thought to himself, his expression slipping into a cold, blank slate as he handed the plates over and redirected his steps toward the grand corridor's restroom area. "Threatening Christopher was a meticulously calculated bluff on my part. Yes, I did feel an immense amount of pettiness toward that pathetic prick, and a part of me truly wanted to end his existence right there. But if I hadn't orchestrated that extravagant, violent scene, Christopher would have inevitably become a recurring logistical problem. He would have joined forces with the Aimus to target Sera."
He pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of the washroom, only to freeze as a jarring sight manifested before him.
Deep inside the spacious, marble-tiled room, Christopher Genius was cornering a student, flanked by a small group of hostile female sycophants. They were actively, aggressively harassing a high-ranking representative of the Dragon House—and it was none other than Tia Denver.
A prominent, dangerous vein instantly popped on Amon's forehead at the blatant disruption of order. His boots made absolutely no sound against the polished floor as he quietly approached the group from behind.
"Why exactly is a commoner like you standing inside this prestigious academy reserved exclusively for the elite?" Christopher sneered, his tone dripping with an arrogant, unchecked venom. He had Tia gripped tightly by her collar, forcing her back against the marble sinks as he spat the words directly into her face.
The surrounding female sycophants eagerly chimed in, tossing their own berating remarks and high-pitched insults toward her. Christopher's lips curled, about to voice an even viler threat, when the space behind him suddenly ruptured.
Without a single breath of warning, Amon's hand shot forward, his fingers locking around the back of Christopher's neck with crushing, absolute force. With a brutal, fluid downward arc, he slammed Christopher's face entirely into the polished marble floor.
BANG!
The impact echoed violently off the tiled walls. The sycophants' jeers died instantly, replaced by a suffocating, terrified silence.
"It appears you managed to recover from this morning's psychological trauma remarkably quickly," Amon spoke, his voice a deliberate, terrifyingly calm monotone as he effortlessly hauled a bleeding, dazed Christopher up by his hair. "And you have already managed to gather a fascinating bunch of generic lackeys for yourself."
His hidden, blindfolded gaze slowly drifted over the frozen group of female students.
"Seriously, your collective social taste is absolutely horrific if you are choosing to associate with a pathetic, short-sighted defect like this on your very first day in this Academy."
. . .
Following a brief, decisive visit to Headmistress Victoria's office—and a firm administrative assurance that Christopher Genius would be slapped with an immediate three-week suspension for bullying a fellow student—Amon and Tia smoothly exited the main faculty wing.
As for the flock of sycophants who had eagerly participated in the harassment, they were left behind closed doors to be strictly reprimanded and structurally disciplined by the academy board.
"Wooh! My very first official academic day is proving to be nothing short of exceptionally eventful!" Amon stretched his arms high above his head, a series of satisfying, distinct bone pops echoing down the quiet hallway as he loosened his muscles.
"Why exactly did you choose to help me?" Tia asked, her voice dropping into a flat, unsettling monotone as she stared up at Amon with entirely lifeless, unblinking eyes.
"We happen to be representatives of the same house, aren't we?" Amon chuckled at her clinical questioning, lowering his arms and adjusting his posture. "Besides, the Genius Family has truly lived up to their historical reputation as the Northern Troublemakers. They are nobles possessing immense raw intellect, but paired with downright horrendous, volatile personalities. Leaving the Family's heir unchecked is a massive compliance risk."
"It's not how things are supposed to happen," Tia said, stopping dead in her tracks.
Amon kept walking for a fraction of a second before the sheer, jarring weight of her words registered. He halted, turning his head back toward her.
Tia stood under the dim magical lighting of the academy corridor, her lifeless eyes fixed squarely on his red blindfold. "You're the Final Boss of Forbidden Love Between Two Maidens. And from everything I know about the novel's script, you aren't supposed to have a personality like this at all."
Hearing that specific phrase, Amon stopped dead in his tracks. A cold shock rippled through his system, forcing his muscles to lock. His composure was shattered, replaced by a raw expression of surprise and disbelief.
"What... exactly are you talking about?" Amon asked, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper.
"Don't play dumb with me, Amon Von Crown," Tia replied, her tone remaining completely monotonous, devoid of fear or excitement. "Actually, let me ask you a better question. Are you really the original Amon Von Crown?"
Amon's brows widened beneath his blindfold as the puzzle clicked into place with terrifying clarity. "You..." Amon muttered, a cold realisation washing over him. "You got reincarnated into this world."