*****
As Ren pushed the iron door open, a deep clang echoed through the hallway.
The heavy door slid aside, revealing a spacious and sophisticated classroom beyond.
The first thing Lyrium noticed was the sheer size of it—it was far grander than any ordinary classroom.
The high ceiling was adorned with floating mana-infused crystals, casting a soft glow throughout the space.
The walls were lined with arcane engravings, pulsating faintly, likely a form of defensive enchantments.
Rows of elevated seating formed a semi-circle, much like an auditorium, each desk equipped with holographic interfaces and built-in spell matrices.
The entire setup screamed elite-level education, fitting for the top students of Deviants Academy.
A low murmur filled the air—several students were already inside.
Some engaged in quiet conversation, while others were focused on their holographic syllabus.
A few turned toward the entrance as Ren and Lyrium walked in, their eyes analyzing them before looking away.
Ren, being himself, let out a low whistle.
"Damn, this place is fancy as hell."
Lyrium said nothing, his sharp gaze scanning the room for anything of note.
Just then, a sharp voice cut through the murmurs.
"You two! Quit standing around like lost children and take your seats."
Both of them turned toward the front of the room.
Standing near the teacher’s podium was a woman with an imposing presence.
She was tall, with a commanding posture that radiated authority.
Her long platinum-blonde hair was neatly tied into a high ponytail, a few loose strands framing her sharp, elegant face.
Cold blue eyes regarded them with an expression that was neither welcoming nor hostile—just calculating.
She wore a form-fitting black military-style uniform, accentuated with silver embroidery, giving off the air of a strict disciplinarian.
Ren leaned closer to Lyrium and muttered,
"Damn. Who the hell is she?"
Before Lyrium could respond, the woman tapped her fingers against the podium, the slight sound commanding immediate attention.
"I am your homeroom instructor, Professor Evelyn Weiss. If you’re expecting a warm welcome, you won’t get one. This is Deviants Academy, not a daycare. Now, find your seats."
Her icy tone left no room for argument.
Lyrium and Ren exchanged a glance.
Then, Lyrium called out.
Lyrium and Ren remained standing in the doorway, unmoving.
The classroom had gone quiet, all eyes flickering between them and Professor Weiss, waiting to see how this would unfold.
"But Isn’t the Class supposed to start at 8 A.M?"
Lyrium, keeping his gaze on her, repeated his words, this time with a bit more emphasis.
"Ma’am, class is supposed to start at 8 A.M."
Ren, standing beside him, whispered under his breath,
"Bro, are you trying to get us killed?"
Professor Weiss exhaled sharply, her cold gaze narrowing ever so slightly.
Then, she turned her full attention toward them, stepping forward until she was just a few feet away.
The air in the room grew tense.
"And yet, here you stand at my door,"
She said, her voice smooth but carrying an underlying sharpness.
"Not inside. Not seated. Just… standing there. Wasting time."
Lyrium remained quiet, but his eyes never left hers.
"Tell me, Lyrium Blackwood,"
She continued, folding her arms,
"Is your point that you were waiting for the ’official’ time to walk in? That you require permission from the hands of a clock to enter?"
Her piercing gaze bore into him like a hawk assessing its prey.
"I expect my students to be prepared at all times, not bound by trivial schedules. The moment you stepped into this academy, time became irrelevant. Do you understand?"
Ren, clearly sensing the tension, elbowed Lyrium slightly and muttered,
"Dude, just sit down before she makes us run laps around the academy or something."
Lyrium let out a slow exhale before stepping forward.
"I understand,"
He said simply.
He wasn’t here to pick fights over something meaningless.
He walked past her, heading toward an empty seat, and Ren followed right after, whispering,
"Man, you’ve got guts calling her out like that."
Professor Weiss watched them for a moment before turning back toward the podium.
"Good. Now, let’s begin."
As Lyrium and Ren strode toward a row of empty seats, Lyrium’s gaze instinctively wandered across the room, scanning the students seated toward the back rows.
And then—he saw them.
Silas and Lily, sitting together.
Silas leaned back slightly in his chair, one arm resting lazily on the desk while Lily sat beside him, looking as focused as ever.
They weren’t talking much, but for some reason, the sight of them sitting side by side made Lyrium feel a strange irritation.
His eyelids twitched, and he pressed his fingers against his temple.
’My eyes still hurt.’
He had no idea why he felt this way—it was almost instinctive, like an old irritation surfacing out of nowhere.
Shaking off the feeling, he let his gaze drift further, his sharp eyes scanning the students seated near the last row.
And then, he saw her.
Margaret Windsor.
The so-called "Future Cold Empress."
The moment he laid eyes on her, it was as if the air around her was colder than the rest of the room.
She sat elegantly, her back perfectly straight, hands folded on the desk, completely ignoring the existence of anyone else in the classroom.
Her raven-black hair cascaded neatly over her shoulders, catching the sunlight from the nearby window, giving her an almost ethereal presence.
Her gray eyes were sharp—focused solely on the podium at the front of the room, as if everything and everyone else was beneath her notice.
Lyrium couldn’t help but click his tongue.
’Still as cold as ever, huh?’
She wasn’t even pretending to acknowledge the rest of the class.
Not that it mattered.
His gaze shifted again, moving just slightly past Margaret—until his eyes landed on another female student sitting near her.
And at that moment, his brows furrowed slightly.
’Oh I met her in metro subway’
’She’s—’
But before he could even finish his thought—
"Are you going to sit or not, Lyrium Blackwood?"
A sharp voice cut through the air like a blade.
The tension in the room spiked instantly.
Lyrium blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.
All eyes were suddenly on him.
At the front of the classroom, Instructor Weiss stood with her arms crossed, her sharp blue eyes locked onto him like a hawk staring at its prey.
Her silver hair, neatly tied back, glowed under the classroom’s bright lighting, and her expression was as cold and unreadable as ever.
Lyrium could tell.
She wasn’t amused.
Realizing that he had been standing there for far too long, lost in thought, he quickly cleared his throat.
"Huh? Oh—I’m sitting."
Without wasting another second, he hurriedly took a seat, trying to ignore the muffled laughter and whispers from some of the other students.
As soon as he settled into his chair, he heard Ren mutter beside him, his voice dripping with betrayal.
"Damn bastard betrayed me."
Lyrium gave him a quick side glance, raising an eyebrow.
’What the hell does that even mean?’
But he didn’t have time to dwell on it.
As Instructor Weiss turned back toward the podium, ready to start the lesson, a single thought crossed Lyrium’s mind—one that made him suppress a smirk.
’That attitude of hers… This is exactly why she dies later on.’
He rested his chin against his palm, his eyes gleaming with hidden amusement.
As the classroom settled into a momentary silence, Instructor Evelyn Weiss finally spoke, her voice calm yet carrying an air of authority that instantly drew everyone’s attention.
"Everyone, now… I will be revealing your ranks to the school, making them official."
The air in the room suddenly felt heavier.
Some students straightened their posture. Others exchanged quick glances, whispering among themselves.
The importance of official rankings in Deviants Academy wasn’t something to be taken lightly.
It determined status, privileges, and future opportunities within the academy.
At that moment, sitting in his seat, Silas subtly shifted his gaze—his dark eyes flickering toward Lyrium for a brief second.
Lyrium caught it.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, confused.
’Huh...? Was that a hallucination?’
Silas had never paid much attention to him before.
But just now, that glance—it was deliberate.
’He was definitely looking at me just now... right?’
Before he could dwell on the thought any further, Instructor Evelyn called out the first name.
She stood at the front of the classroom, her long silver hair neatly tied back, and her piercing blue eyes swept across the room with an unreadable expression.
And then—
"The First Rank."
She glanced directly at Lyrium, locking eyes with him.
A pause.
A silence.
Then, she spoke.
"Lyrium Blackwood."
At that moment, the air in the room shifted.
Some students visibly tensed.
Others turned their heads toward Lyrium, a mixture of curiosity, shock, and envy flashing in their eyes.
Lyrium, however, simply leaned back slightly in his chair, his expression unreadable.
’Well... I already knew this. But seeing everyone’s reaction is interesting.’
A few whispers erupted from different parts of the classroom.
"He’s really the first rank? Damn, I thought it would be Silas or Princess Margaret..."
"I heard Professor Eugene personally voted for him, right? That means he’s really that strong..."
"Tsk. Another privileged noble?"
Not everyone was pleased, that much was obvious.
But Lyrium ignored the murmurs, simply resting his chin against his palm, his sharp eyes observing Instructor Evelyn as she prepared to announce the next names.
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The ranking had just begun, and already, the classroom was filled with tension.
******