Minutes later, she stood before the mirror, draped in the heavy, formal regalia of a West Trinity scholar.
The outfit consisted of a high-collared charcoal robe and a stole: a long, decorative silk sash that draped over her shoulders, embroidered with the academy's silver crest.
She looked like a high-ranking priest of a religion she didn't believe in.
Adapt and overcome, she told herself. It was the first rule of the field.
If she had been dropped into this fictional mess, she might as well play the part until she found an exit.
"Good luck, Cordelia!" the woman shouted as she stepped out the door.
Lithia winced. The "motherly affection" was a sensory overload she still wasn't equipped to handle.
Outside, the world was a sun-drenched fever dream of the Middle Ages infused with high magic.
There were students in matching uniforms laughing and chasing each other toward the horizon.
To them, it was a Monday. To her, it was an alien planet.
"Hey, you," she muttered, cutting her eyes toward the floating girl. "I'm flying blind here. You'd better be a hell of a navigator."
"Trust me!" the system sprite chirped. "I am the premier guide for the Zideus World!"
"And what am I supposed to call you? Blue Alien?"
"Blue ali—?! The nerve!" It crossed its translucent arms, huffing. "Fine! 'Blue' is acceptable!"
"Whatever, Blue. Let's move."
She signaled a passing carriage. It wasn't pulled by horses, but by a pair of sleek, lizard-like drakes that hissed steam from their nostrils.
The door swung open on silent hinges, and as she stepped into the plush, velvet-lined interior, the reality of her situation finally began to sink in.
She was an assassin who had never stepped foot in a college, let alone taught a class.
[CRITICAL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
╔════════════════════╗
Event: Morning Ceremony
Location: Grand Cathedral
Time Left: 03:59 Status: FINAL CALL
╚════════════════════╝
'What the fuck am I doing actually? Didn't I reject this mission earlier?'
***
As she arrived, the carriage doors hadn't even fully settled before Lithia was swept up by a flurry of silent, stern-faced attendants.
She was ushered through a side entrance and thrust into the backstage wings of the Grand Cathedral.
Up close, West Trinity Academy was a gothic architectural nightmare. It loomed with soaring obsidian arches, floating buttresses, and stained-glass windows that seemed to track her every move with magical intent.
It was a castle built on secrets and centuries of power.
The silence backstage was deafening. No faculty member spoke; they stood like statues, their faces masks of cold indifference.
Below them, in the main hall, hundreds of students filtered in.
Each wore robes color-coded by branch, their crests presenting where they are from.
Shit. How am I supposed to handle a classroom of magical brats when I don't even know the curriculum?
A bead of sweat rolled down her temple. Her Mental Discipline was the only thing keeping her hands from shaking.
Suddenly, a massive, bearded man stepped onto the center of the stage.
The moment his boot hit the stone, the thousand-watt glow of the chandeliers died instantly.
The hall plunged into a suffocating, artificial twilight.
"Good morning," the man began. His voice was a tectonic rumble that vibrated in Lithia's very marrow. "And welcome to West Trinity Academy, the premier institution for the development of Covert Operatives."
Ah. The memory of her brother's rants finally clicked into place. This wasn't a school for mages like hogwarts. It was a meat grinder for assassins.
"Now then..." The High Sage paused, a cruel glint reflecting in his eyes.
"Kill each other. That's an order."