The tension broke instantly. Students scrambled to leave, desperate to reach the safety of their dorms before a senior noticed them.
Lucien, however, didn't move. He remained in his seat, his gaze shifting to the girl beside him.
Up close, her beauty was haunting.
Her hair was a cascading waterfall of pale grey, not the grey of old age, but the shimmering silver of moonlight. Her eyes remained fixed on the window, watching the clouds with an intensity that suggested she was searching for something far away, her breath was average but he pervertly kept looking at it.
Lucien opened his mouth to speak, to test the waters of his first potential "link" but the heavy door to the class room hit the wall with a deafening *thud*.
The air in the room instantly became heavy, saturated with a pressure that made the weaker students gasp for air.
Two figures stepped into the frame, their uniforms trimmed with the unmistakable, shimmering gold of the S-Rank.
"What are they doing in class D?" Done whispered to each other.
One was a tall, lithe male with red hair and a bored expression, his fingers sparking with casual lightning. Beside him was the same boy that followed him when Theodore wanted to fight with Lucien with a sharp, regal face, his eyes scanning the room as if he were looking for a specific insect to crush.
The murmurs died instantly. The D-Rank students froze in place, some even bowing their heads instinctively. An S-Rank appearing in the D-Wing was like a wolf walking into a sheep pen it was never for a friendly visit.
"So this is where they keep the trash," Theodore, his voice echoing in the silence when his gaze met Lucien.
His eyes locked onto Lucien. "You," the S-Rank said, pointing a finger that crackled with electricity. "You're the Vilor 'defect,' aren't you? Everyone knows about you now so font be surprised I know your name."
Lucien leaned back in his chair, his expression remaining perfectly flat, though he could feel the grey-haired beauty beside him finally tear her gaze away from the window to look at him.
"Go find someone else to bother as you can see," he tapped at the file on his desk, "I'm hella busy." He smirked.
The students of Class D pressed themselves against the walls, their whispers like a swarm of angry hornets.
"Is he insane? He's already the lowest-ranked student in history, and now he's attracted the S-Ranks?" A guy said to his friends.
"Theodore is going to kill him. Did he not hear the instructor?" One from the group said.
"His still running his stupid mouth, does he want S-rank to start targeting us and ripping us of our money," Silas who was at his front sighed after hearing what he said.
Theodore walked in and stopped at Lucien's desk, looming over him with a shadow that smelled of ozone. "I didn't like your tone in the hallway and you are still talking in the same tone right now, Vilor. You think being a 'defect' makes you special? Let's test that."
"I challenge you to a formal duel, tomorrow, the Arena, it's legal I told the S-rank instructor about it and if I win I'll get all your weekend rations and if you win you could have 40 percent."
The room went deathly silent, every D-rank student turned to Lucien, expecting him to beg, to kneel, or to cry. Instead, Lucien didn't even flinch. He didn't look scared, he looked bored.
Lucien grew up with books and not with stupid fights of course he was supposed to look scared but he wasn't since he had suffered something worse than near death.
Lucien knew if they were to be challenged to a duel, it won't be them telling the S-rank what they want their only answer is to accept or beg, there is no 'no'. "I accept," Lucien said curtly.
A collective gasp erupted. Even the S-Rank standing behind Theodore raised an eyebrow. Theodore laughed, a jagged, ugly sound. "So daring. I'll make sure to leave enough of you for your father to recognize. Wait until I crush you on the battlefield."
With a final, mocking sneer, the two S-Ranks swept out of the room.
"Does that guy have a death wish, Theodore is a Duke son he wouldn't even care if he killed him." A guy from his boys group said.
The grey-haired beauty beside Lucien finally turned her head fully. Her eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of pity and genuine intrigue. "Why did you say yes?" she asked, her voice like velvet. "He is an S-Rank. He will literally crush you."
Lucien didn't answer her question. He didn't have time for fear; he needed a skill. He turned his chair toward her, his eyes locking onto hers. "Oh now you talk. What is your skill?"
She blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. "That came from nowhere, why do you want to know?"
"Because you are going to help me defeat him," Lucien stated firmly.
Her eyes widened in shock. "What? He'll crush me until I turn to sand! I'm D-Rank. My skill is useless in a real fight—it's easily deflected."
"Judging by the way your eyes look at me I think you are the only one who thinks that way," Lucien countered. "Show me your stats."
She hesitated, then sighed, she then made her system interface distinct.
Host: Lyra Manton (Level 5)
MP: 200/200
HP: 1000/1000
Ability: Phantom Existence - illusion based.
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Lucien felt a jolt of genuine surprise. A Level 5 and a freshman? She was new to the academy and already had this much MP what if she start levelling up she would be top and even if she won't still be able to get to C. It was a reminder of the academy's brutal system.
Level was determined by individual Mana Points, the more monsters you kill and automatically absorbing their power core, the higher your point and level.
But Rank was tied to the class. Even if Lyra had the highest mana in the building, she was trapped in Class D because her classmates were lagging behind. To rise to Class C, the entire class had to improve together.
"You have potential," Lucien whispered. "Wait....what type of illusion do you have before."
"Oh only to make people see things, but this ability can make me an illusion myself granting me to do anything to my opponent, if I get to class C I'll be given additional two abilities if I get to class B given four additional and so forth. We aren't even friends," Lyra said, defensive. "Why would I risk my life to help you?"
Lucien didn't argue, he reached out and took her hand. His fingers were warm, and his bright blue eyes suddenly glowed with an intensity that seemed to pierce through her very soul.
Lyra felt her heart hammer against her ribs. She felt drawn to him, a magnetic pull she couldn't explain a resonance that felt more real than the stone floor beneath them.
"From the moment we started talking," Lucien said softly, his gaze holding hers captive, "we became friends. So... will you help me?"