Chapter 208: Invisible Walls
Chapter 208: Invisible Walls
The first day of classes had begun.
Cassian stood in the academy courtyard. He wore the prestigious academy uniform given to admitted first-year students—a harmonious blend of black and white, complete with silver buttons.
The uniform’s razor-sharp cut and noble stance would normally add a touch of elegance to a student. But when combined with Cassian’s snow-white hair, soulless blood-red eyes, and deathly pale skin, the outfit made him look less like a student and more like a stylish grim reaper come to collect souls.
Students jostled in front of the massive magical board that displayed the class assignments, trying to find their names.
Cassian stepped up to the board and scanned the gold-lettered list with empty eyes. It only took him seconds to find his name.
’Class 1B’
His eyes slowly drifted down to check the other classmates listed under his name. There were familiar names on the list. The Holy Church’s Saintess Alicia, Pelagorn’s arrogant prince Daemon, and... Layla. That baron’s daughter who had tried to escape him by cutting her own hair during the exam.
However, Cassian’s brows furrowed imperceptibly.
Felix’s name wasn’t on this list.
The Child of Dawn had been assigned to Class 1C. This was an incredibly annoying, unfortunate situation for Cassian.
He wanted Felix always in his sight, right within his reach. Being in a different class would make it harder to control him and closely monitor his growth.
"What a waste of time..." Cassian muttered to himself. His mind was already formulating plans on how to keep an eye on Felix during breaks and in common areas.
Just as he turned around to step away from the board and leave the crowd, he noticed two familiar silhouettes standing in the shadow of a large pillar just a few meters away.
Layla and Felix.
They were both staring at the board, entirely oblivious to the fact that Cassian was standing right there beside them.
There was a look of deep disappointment and sadness on their faces. After the horrifying events of the exam, the academy healers had miraculously mended Felix’s shattered bones, but the pure light in the boy’s eyes seemed to have dimmed a little.
"We’re not in the same class..." Felix muttered, his shoulders slumped. His voice carried the deep disappointment of not being able to share the grand academy adventure he had anticipated with his closest friend.
For a moment, Layla set aside the pure rage that had washed over her face upon seeing her own class list—the thought of, *"I ended up in the same class as that psychopathic monster!"* Her heart ached seeing Felix look so dejected. Taking a deep breath and forcing a soft smile onto her face, she turned to Felix and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, don’t be sad," Layla said, trying to keep her voice as cheerful as possible. "Even if we’re not in the same class, we can still hang out during breaks and lunch. We’ll go to the library together, meet up at the training grounds. That way, you won’t have to spend your academy life alone. Did you really think I’d just leave you by yourself?"
Felix lifted his head at Layla’s genuine comfort. He knew very well that no matter how prickly Layla seemed on the outside, she was actually much worse at socializing and communicating with people than he was. Her protective attitude warmed his heart.
His usual warm smile finally appeared on his lips, and he let out a soft chuckle. "Thank you, Layla. Really... I don’t know what I’d do in this huge place without you."
Finding this sticky, emotional moment of friendship nauseating to watch any longer, Cassian completely ignored them and changed his direction.
In the hallways, there were upperclassmen in different uniforms guiding the first-years, showing them to their classrooms and explaining the academy rules. But Cassian had absolutely no need to ask them for directions.
He closed his eyes and released his mana into the academy building. Within seconds, he located the familiar, arrogant, foul sensation of seawater radiating from a room in the west wing—Pelagorn Prince Daemon’s mana. The prince was already in class. Following his mana like a beacon was far easier than trailing after a guide.
Slipping through the massive corridors like a silent shadow, Cassian arrived in front of Class 1B’s door. The door was already open.
The moment he stepped inside, the cheerful hum of introductions, laughter, and whispers abruptly ceased, as if someone had stopped time itself.
Cassian stood at the threshold, sweeping his empty, soulless red eyes over the class.
The atmosphere inside turned ice-cold in an instant. Remembering the brutality of the exam, some students shrank in their seats, averting their eyes and gulping in fear. On the other hand, a strange mix of fear and fascination blossomed in the eyes of some students—both girls and boys—who were getting their first close-up look at Cassian’s dangerous, dark aura, his peerless, porcelain-like face, and his snow-white hair.
However, the most violent reaction came from one of the back rows.
The moment Pelagorn’s Prince Daemon saw Cassian, his eyes went bloodshot, and he leaped out of his seat with a loud crash.
His hands gripped the edge of his desk so tightly that the wood began to crack. The fury of the humiliating beating he had taken during the exam, of seeing his team crushed in seconds, made his blood boil.
He was just about to open his mouth, hurl curses, and lunge at him when... he remembered the stares of the other noble students around him, and that he was standing in the middle of a classroom, within the academy’s walls. He couldn’t afford to get a disciplinary penalty on the very first day and drag his honor through the mud even further.
Daemon gritted his teeth so hard that his jaw muscles twitched. Breathing heavily through his nose in anger, he crossed his arms over his chest and sat back down with immense hatred. He glared at Cassian as if trying to drill holes into him with his eyes.
Cassian couldn’t care less about the prince’s childish temper tantrum. Pulling his gaze away, he walked slowly toward the very back of the class, to an empty, isolated desk by the wide windows, and quietly took his seat. He set his bag down next to him, rested his chin on his hand, and began staring out the window at the academy courtyard.
As time passed, the classroom gradually filled up. Yet, no matter how many students arrived, a very strange anomaly formed in the seating arrangement.
The vast majority of the newcomers avoided Pelagorn Prince Daemon’s vicinity due to his foul mood and the angry mana he was radiating, and naturally, they avoided the desks around Cassian like the plague. They were in different corners of the room, but it was as if thick, invisible walls had been erected around both of them—walls no one dared to cross. While the seats around them remained completely empty, the rest of the class was crammed tightly into the other desks.
Just as the class was about to reach full capacity, mere seconds before the bell rang, Class 1B’s door swung open.
Layla burst in, panting from the exhaustion of running up the stairs, holding her bag. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she looked up and scanned the room, hoping to find an empty desk.
She froze in her tracks at the sight.
There were only two empty seats left in the class. One was right next to the silver-haired demon staring out the window—Cassian, who had subjected her to a trauma she would never forget for the rest of her life. The other was next to the arrogant boy crossing his arms and shooting murderous glares everywhere, Pelagorn Prince Daemon.
Layla’s face turned ashen. She had two choices: bad and worse.
Letting out a deep, shaky sigh, she slumped her shoulders. Completely averting her eyes from Cassian’s side of the room, she reluctantly stepped toward the empty seat next to Daemon.
Just as Layla placed her bag on the desk and moved to sit down, Daemon shot her a disgusted look and hissed coldly.
"This seat is taken."
Layla paused. Her nerves were already frayed from being separated from Felix and ending up in the same class as Cassian; she was in no mood to deal with this cocky prince’s whims. Slowly raising an eyebrow, Layla looked at Daemon.
"Is that so?" she asked mockingly. She gestured toward the class with her hand. "There’s no one left standing in the room. So whose seat is it? A ghost’s?"
Daemon’s brows furrowed, his pride bruised. "None of your business, commoner girl! Go somewhere else!" he snapped.
Layla rolled her eyes. "Ugh... God, why am I even arguing with you? As if I care."
She slammed her bag onto the desk and, completely ignoring Daemon’s murderous glares, pulled out the chair and sat down next to him with utmost ease.
Daemon went mad with rage at the sheer audacity of a baron’s daughter acting like this toward a prince. "Hey! I told you this seat is ta—"
"Shut up, or change your own seat," Layla cut him off. Her voice was so cold, so fed up and sharp, that the words struck the prince’s face like a physical slap. Without even turning her head, Layla began pulling out her notebooks.
"Huh...?"
Daemon was dumbfounded. His mouth hung half-open. Having grown up in the palace surrounded by servants and sycophants, where his every word was law, he was absolutely not used to being belittled and brushed off like this by such an ordinary girl. Unable to finish his sentence, he simply pursed his lips in shock and irritation, settling for crossing his arms again.
Right in the middle of that awkward and tense moment, the bell echoed through the academy halls. Class was starting.
The classroom door slowly opened. A middle-aged man stepped inside, wearing a simple yet elegant professor’s robe, bearing an incredibly calm, wise expression of someone who had seen it all.
But the professor wasn’t alone. Walking right next to him, slightly behind, was a female student.
Every eye in the classroom immediately turned to her. Her golden-blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders like a waterfall. She had flawless, porcelain skin, and most striking of all, blindingly white eyes that held no color, looking as though they were made of pure light. She was the apple of the Holy Church’s eye, Saintess Alicia. Her appearance was quite literally akin to an angel descended from heaven.
Yet, there was a terrifying contrast between the flawless nobility of this angelic figure’s appearance and her body language.
Saintess Alicia’s entire body was covered in cold sweat. Her beautiful face was as white as a sheet of paper, and her hands tightly gripped the edges of her uniform. Her pure white eyes were so wide they looked like they might pop out of their sockets, and she was trembling uncontrollably. Her breaths came in ragged gasps.
Because the Saintess’s holy eyes could see not just people’s outward appearances, but the very depths of their souls.
And Alicia’s tear-filled white eyes, trembling in sheer terror... were locked onto the only empty space left in the room—the last vacant chair right next to Cassian, the white-haired boy sitting by the window.
What she felt in the soul of the entity sitting right next to that chair wasn’t a human soul. There, lay a bottomless, absolute darkness that light could never reach, an abyss that devoured everything. And that abyss... was now staring back at her.
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