V2. Chapter 18: The Arrogant Lords’ Revel |
Evening had fully enveloped the Capital, but the Student Quarter had no intention of quieting down.
As always, voices and music filled the air, and inside the dormitories, the students showed no signs of settling down. Somewhere, arguments flared; elsewhere, people studied; and in other places, mugs were already clattering loudly against tables. But today, within this familiar noise, something different could be felt.
In the small square near the student tavern, there was less laughter and more tension.
And there was a specific reason for it.
Right in the middle of the square stood several tables pushed together, where Valkeris lounged with his retinue. Their presence immediately drew the eye, pulling attention toward them and unconsciously altering the behavior of those around them.
To his left sat the Overseer Malzir. He lounged lazily against the back of his chair, occasionally adjusting his greasy hair, his drunken, leering gaze sliding over the passing female students. Noticing this, they tried to quicken their pace, turn away, or pretend to be completely absorbed in conversation—anything to avoid meeting his eyes.
To Valkeris’s right sat Aiden.
He held himself straight, but there was a strain in his demeanor, as if he were not simply sitting beside him, but playing an assigned role. From time to time, he said something, leaning closer, as though reporting—informing his master of what was happening around them—while carefully watching his reaction.
Valkeris let out a satisfied laugh, lazily leaning back in his chair before raising his glass.
Without waiting for a response, he snapped his gaze toward the surrounding students and, narrowing his eyes, added with clear irritation, “Why do you all look so sour? Smile and laugh, or you’ll ruin my mood!”
His shout rolled across the square.
Several students flinched, some froze for a second, but almost immediately, a strained reaction flickered across their faces—people hastily began to smile, exchange glances, and pretend to be talking, as if nothing were weighing on them.
The musicians, clearly suppressing their unease, immediately changed the melody. The sounds grew faster and sharper, the rhythm more lively—as if forcibly pushing the atmosphere toward merriment.
Valkeris smirked with satisfaction, taking a sip.
“Provincials don’t even know how to relax properly…”
Malzir beside him licked his lips, not taking his eyes off the passing girls, and lazily added, “Such trash is fit only for the front lines and for bed…”
Aiden, meanwhile, shook his head, a faint shadow crossing his face, yet, in the same obedient tone, said, “I can’t believe I’m a provincial too… How regrettable.”
Valkeris cast Aiden a brief glance, a flicker of arrogance in his eyes, but still gave a nod, as if approving his words.
“Serve me well, and someday you’ll receive the blood of the Imperial Branch,” he said calmly. “Then your tainted blood will cease to be a problem.”
The words fell heavily, but Aiden, on the contrary, seemed to come alive.
His eyes lit up, and an almost rapturous smile appeared on his face.
“The God of Blood and War has truly blessed me!” he said quickly. “Meeting you, Valkeris, is the best thing that has ever happened in my life.”
Valkeris merely nodded in satisfaction, taking it as a given.
At that moment, one of the lackeys nearby leaned in and said quietly, “Listen, Valkeris… you wanted to spend this evening in a special way…”
For a moment, Valkeris froze, as if recalling something, then a slow smile spread across his lips.
“Ah, right…”
He turned his head toward Malzir, his gaze sharpening.
“Where did you put the newly arrived savages, Malzir?”
The man snickered, clearly pleased with himself, and, licking his lips, replied, “In the dilapidated Fourteenth Dormitory. Just the place for them.”
“Fourteenth?” Valkeris murmured thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly, then his lips stretched into a smirk. “Wait… isn’t that the new nest of that stubborn beauty?”
Malzir immediately perked up and quickly nodded, clearly pleased that his plan had been figured out.
“Exactly,” he confirmed with a grin. “But as soon as I moved her into the Fourteenth Dormitory, she’s been slipping away. They say she wants to run off to the city as soon as possible.”
At those words, Valkeris’s smile widened, a clear playfulness appearing in his expression.
He slowly rose from behind the table, setting his glass aside, and, chuckling quietly, said, “Let’s go. I want to greet both new and old acquaintances…”
Aiden and the others immediately rose and followed, asking no unnecessary questions.
Valkeris was already heading forward without looking back, calling over his shoulder to the nearest students, “Hey! Help me carry the alcohol and snacks!”
They flinched as if struck and hurried to the table without delay. Several people immediately began gathering bottles, plates, and trays, trying to move faster, as if their own well-being depended on it.
From the outside, it looked less like help and more like the work of servants.
✦ ✦ ✦
At that very moment, inside the Fourteenth Dormitory, in one of the rooms, three girls sat at a simple wooden table.
Violet, Roselle, and Lissandra.
Violet sat in the middle, leaning slightly over the parchment, carefully drawing thin lines in ink. Her movements were confident and smooth, as if she were repeating a pattern long since mastered.
“Look, Roselle,” she said calmly, without taking her eyes off her work. “The lower left curl should be smooth, with a slight bend at the end. Yours comes out as a straight line…”
Roselle sat beside her, gripping the crystal pen a little tighter than necessary, and stared at her parchment with irritation.
Lissandra, watching from the side, lowered her gaze to her own notes and, quietly muttering something under her breath, began checking her lines against them, as if afraid of making a mistake.
Roselle, meanwhile, scratched the back of her head, leaving a streak of ink there, and exhaled irritably, “Why is learning this stupid language so hard?”
Violet only gave a restrained smile, briefly looking up from her work, and replied more gently, almost instructively, “Don’t worry. The beginning is always the hardest. Once we learn the basics, it’ll get easier.”
Lissandra hesitated slightly, but still added quietly, without raising her eyes, “I think… we’re actually lucky…”
Violet and Roselle turned to her at the same time, and the sudden attention made Lissandra flinch.
Her cheeks immediately flushed, and she hurried to explain, stumbling over her words, “I-I mean that… part of our native language is similar to the Imperial tongue. Some words sound very similar to ours.”
Violet looked at her attentively, then nodded approvingly.
“Well done, Lissandra. That’s the right mindset. And more importantly…”
She was about to continue, but at that moment the door faintly shimmered with a soft light, and in the next second, there was a quiet creak.
The door opened, and a tall girl stepped inside.
Her figure was slender, yet strikingly well-proportioned, her movements smooth and confident. Pale skin softly reflected the light, and long, thick blonde hair fell below her waist, creating a sharp contrast with her deep blue eyes.
But what drew the most attention was her face.
Long lashes, a thin straight nose, slightly full lips—her features formed a complete, noble image with not a single unnecessary detail.
A restrained yet tangible aura emanated from her, one that carried both femininity and nobility.
The moment the girl noticed that someone was already in the room, her reaction was immediate.
“Who are you?!” she snapped in the Imperial tongue, and there wasn’t a trace of hesitation in her voice.
A sharp flick of her hand—and in that very instant, pale-blue mana flared around her. The air trembled, and long, thin needles formed around her. There were dozens of them, all suspended in the air, pointed toward the table.
At this, Lissandra and Roselle visibly tensed, instinctively recoiling, with fear flashing in their eyes.
Violet reacted faster.
She immediately stepped forward, shielding her friends, rising from the table and raising her hands openly, showing she had no intention of attacking.
She didn’t understand the Imperial language as well as Kael did, but it was enough to grasp the meaning.
Gathering herself, she quickly replied, in broken speech, with a noticeable accent, “We… new students. You and me—neighbors. Language… not good. Sorry.”
As soon as those words were spoken, the pale beauty’s face froze for a moment, as if she were trying to match what she had heard with something in her memory. Her lips parted slightly, and more softly, almost in a whisper, she said, “I heard that…”
But the sentence remained unfinished. In the next moment, the mana needles dissolved into the air, and a lively, almost childlike curiosity flared in the girl’s eyes.
“Are you the ones everyone’s been talking about?!”
She quickly stepped closer to Violet and, without hesitation, took her by the hands.
“Can I see your clothes?”
Violet hesitated for a second, instinctively touching her white uniform.
“Clothes?”
“Not these! The ones from your homeland!”
Violet stared at her in confusion, catching only part of the words, while behind her Roselle and Lissandra exchanged glances, not understanding at all what was being talked about.
But at that moment, the girl’s gaze caught on the scarlet dress, neatly folded on Roselle’s bed.
She froze for only a fraction of a second, then moved forward. Rushing to the bed, she reached for the fabric—but at the very last moment stopped. Her hands hovered in the air, just short of touching the dress, and visibly trembled, as if she had to restrain herself.
She turned sharply back to the girls.
“May I see it?”
Roselle seemed to understand without words what she meant and nodded, somewhat taken aback.
Receiving permission, the beauty carefully took the dress by the shoulders and slowly lifted it before her, straightening the fabric. In the next moment, pale-blue mana flowed gently from her body and, as if catching hold of the fabric, gave it shape. The dress straightened, as though draped over an invisible mannequin, and hovered before her.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The girl’s eyes lit up.
She studied every detail attentively, her gaze tracing the lines, seams, and patterns, as if reading the meaning woven into them.
“How beautiful…” she murmured quietly. “The embroidery is a bit rough, but its style… I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She carefully ran her fingers over the fabric, barely touching the seams, and with a soft smile added, “Love was sewn into these seams. The master who made this dress didn’t cut corners…”
Violet, watching her for a moment, decided to speak first.
“We are neighbors,” she said, trying to speak as clearly as possible. “Nice to meet you.”
The girl seemed to snap out of it.
She immediately tore her gaze away from the dress and lightly slapped her forehead, as if realizing her own behavior.
“Gods! Forgive my rudeness,” she said quickly. “I just got too excited when I realized you’re those very descendants of the ancient settlers.”
Collecting herself, she made a refined, practiced bow.
“My name is Estelle. It’s very nice to meet you as well.”
Violet exhaled in relief, feeling the tension finally fade, and, touching her chest with her palm, briefly introduced herself: “Violet.”
Then, turning slightly, she gestured one by one to the girls behind her: “Roselle and Lissandra.”
Estelle smiled softly, and for a moment it seemed as though the room had grown brighter.
She was about to say something, leaning slightly forward, but at that moment, somewhere out in the corridor, a loud bang sounded, as if someone had flung a door open with force.
A moment later, a man’s voice rolled through the entire dormitory—loud, confident, laced with clear mockery, “Good evening, gentlemen. Welcome the guests!”
The words echoed along the walls.
At that very instant, the dress that had been floating in the air suddenly dropped and fell softly to the floor, as if the invisible threads holding it had been severed.
Violet reacted first.
“Estelle… what’s hap—”
But she didn’t get to finish.
The words caught in her throat when she saw the girl’s face.
Estelle had gone even paler than before, and now it no longer looked like a natural trait of her appearance. In her eyes—so lively and curious just a moment ago—there was now clear, genuine terror frozen in place.
It seemed Estelle recognized the voice that had just echoed through the corridor…
✦ ✦ ✦
At that very moment, Kael had long since left the noisy street where he had run into the drunkard Barnabas.
He deliberately kept close to the Imperial Academy, continuing to explore the nearby districts, memorizing the layout of the streets and the peculiarities of local life. Now he found himself in a small trading square, where an entirely different kind of crowd gathered.
Everything was sold here—from raw materials and crafting supplies to finished goods, neatly arranged on the stalls. The air was thick with the mingled scents of metal, leather, and harsh reagents, and instead of idle laughter, businesslike conversations and haggling were more common.
Standing with his back against the wall of one of the buildings, Kael calmly surveyed his surroundings.
“There are noticeably more beastfolk here…” he noted.
If humans had dominated the central, busier streets, here the situation was different. Beastfolk constantly helped their masters, doing all the dirty work.
Kael frowned slightly, his gaze lingering on one of them—a black-furred beastman with slumped shoulders, carrying a heavy crate behind his master.
“Slavery is worse than death…” he thought with a flicker of disgust.
But in the very next moment, the thought shifted, becoming colder and more calculating.
“On the other hand… the beastfolk themselves came into the Human Dimension to enslave our people and seize our resources.”
Shaking his head, Kael muttered quietly, “Enough… Such thoughts are pointless.”
Pushing himself off the wall, he straightened and calmly walked forward, merging into the flow of people.
“That’s enough for today… I need to get some sleep before tomorrow’s lectures…” he added under his breath.
The crowd parted before him almost of its own accord. People, noticing the white uniform of an Imperial Academy student, instinctively slowed down, gave way, some even nodded briefly in respect.
Kael responded with a faint smile, continuing at an even pace.
“This uniform works wonders…” he thought. “Without it, I wouldn’t have learned even half of what I have.”
Dozens of brief conversations from that evening immediately surfaced in his memory. Merchants, passersby, innkeepers—as soon as they noticed the uniform, their tone changed, their words softened, and their answers became more detailed.
Some began to speak more willingly, others offered extra information on their own, hoping to curry favor.
But along with these memories, the conversations themselves began to resurface in his mind—prices, the specifics of life in the Capital, traditions, and more.
Kael frowned slightly, his thoughts drifting into calculations.
“Complicated…” he thought. “There are six of us. To rent even a somewhat decent house for all of us, we need at least two hundred silver a month.”
The thought was unpleasant.
Without slowing his pace, he flicked his hand lightly, and two coins appeared in his palm—one copper, the other silver. The metal gave a soft clink as he caught them between his fingers.
Both bore the image of a dragon, and along the rim ran fine lines of magical script, faintly shimmering in the evening light.
Kael touched the silver coin with his thumb, focusing on the sensation. There was mana inside it—and quite a lot.
It was sealed, as if carefully sealed within the structure of the metal itself.
“If I break it down into conventional units…” he began mentally, turning the sensation over. “In the copper coin—one unit of mana. And in the silver—around a hundred.”
Kael gave a crooked smile, rolling the coins between his fingers.
“No wonder I sold my elixir for two and a half silver…” he muttered quietly.
Turning over the sensation of mana in his mind, he quickly ran the numbers.
“My elixir had about two hundred and forty units of mana…” he added mentally. “Looks like the merchant cut me a better deal, adding a dozen coppers on top.”
The thought was cold, devoid of excess emotion.
Kael put away the silver coin, leaving only the copper one in his hand, and sent a thin strand of his mana into it.
The script along the rim immediately flared with a soft light, and the mana from the coin surged into him.
But within a second, the flow stopped. The coin in his fingers dimmed, losing its former shine, becoming an ordinary piece of metal.
“Mana from the elixir is absorbed much better…” Kael thought, feeling the tiny trace of mana dissolve into his channels. “But it’s convenient that coins can be used like this too. A resource both for developing strength and for trade…”
After a brief pause, he added mentally, “If needed, coins could even be used to power some artifact or a magic circle…”
With that in mind, he snapped his fingers and sent the dulled copper coin into the nearest bin.
“Too bad that after the mana is absorbed, the coin almost completely loses its value…” he muttered. “Copper ones for sure…”
By then, he had reached the edge of the square, where several horse-drawn carriages stood lined up. The horses snorted, shifting their weight, while nearby stood coachmen, chatting among themselves and lazily watching passersby.
Kael approached the nearest one and, stopping in front of him, said politely, “How much to the Imperial Academy?”
The coachman gave him a quick once-over, lingering on the white uniform, and smiled courteously.
“Off to study at this hour?”
Kael only gave a brief smirk.
“Not quite. I’m from the provinces, so I live in the Student Quarter.”
The coachman’s grin widened, and he laughed, clearly amused by the answer.
“Then I’ll give you a discount,” he said, raising a finger. “I’m from the provinces too, and we’ve got to help our own. I’ll take you for ten copper.”
Kael nodded without hesitation.
“Thanks. Deal.”
With that, he quickly climbed into the carriage, settling inside. The coachman immediately snapped the reins, and the team set off, rolling smoothly down the street.
The wheels rattled over the cobblestones.
Kael leaned back tiredly and shifted his gaze to the window, where the city lights stretched past in a blur, blurring into streaks. But he did not rest—his thoughts returned to calculations.
“If we move out of the dormitory, they’ll stop providing us with food as well…” he thought. “Food for one person per day will cost around twenty to thirty copper…”
He narrowed his eyes slightly, quickly running the numbers.
“That means for all of us—around forty silver a month…”
The carriage swayed as it took a turn, but Kael paid it no attention.
“Plus household expenses…” he continued. “At least twenty silver for all of us.”
Looking out the window, where illuminated restaurants, shops, and street stalls slid past one after another, with ordinary townspeople working behind counters and tables, Kael continued his calculations.
“To live without constant pressure…” he thought. “Each of us needs to earn at least fifty silver a month. That’s roughly what common workers earn…”
The thought seemed logical, but in the very next moment he frowned, following the thought further.
“But we can’t afford to spend all our free time working…” he continued, his tone turning colder. “The others need to study, train, and grow stronger.”
The carriage passed by a brightly lit tavern, from which loud laughter spilled out.
“Which means…” Kael narrowed his eyes slightly. “I need to figure out how to earn at least two hundred fifty silver a month.”
Images of his mana elixirs immediately surfaced in his mind—the familiar process, the practiced movements, and the predictable result.
But he almost immediately shook his head.
“If I factor in the cost of raw materials and supplies, producing my old elixirs isn’t profitable…” he assessed soberly. “Besides, competition in the Capital is much higher. I’d still have to find a way to sell them…”
He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing his thoughts to settle into place.
“Well, that’s a problem…” he said with a sigh.
A moment later, he gave a faint smile and quietly muttered under his breath, “In the Student Quarter it’ll be difficult… but not unbearable.”
He opened his eyes again, looking at the city rushing past outside the window.
“I’ll gather more information and come up with something. Luckily, there’s still time…” he added more quietly.
✦ ✦ ✦
While Kael, immersed in his calculations, was calmly approaching the Imperial Academy, events of an entirely different tone were unfolding in the Student Quarter.
Inside the Fourteenth Dormitory, complete chaos reigned.
The common hall, which had recently been quiet and almost empty, was now entirely under someone else’s control. All the youths from Lasthold, as well as the few remaining old residents of the dormitory, were kneeling along the walls, their heads lowered, doing their best not to draw attention to themselves.
In the center of the room, the space had been completely cleared.
Tables from the common kitchen had been dragged out and pushed together, forming a long row, now laden with food and drink. Bottles, plates, snacks—everything was laid out without order, but in excessive abundance, as if this were not a dinner, but a display of wealth.
At the head of this table sat Valkeris.
He lounged carelessly in his chair, slowly sipping wine and occasionally bursting into loud laughter. His gaze drifted lazily across the hall, lingering first on the food, then on the people kneeling.
From time to time, he made a casual gesture with his hand, and then one of the students would be dragged into the center.
The music playing somewhere off to the side would immediately grow louder.
“Dance,” he said without interest.
And they would rise.
Some moved uncertainly, others tried to feign cheerfulness, but tension showed in every movement.
Valkeris merely watched, sometimes smirking, sometimes taking a sip, as if what was happening was nothing more than light entertainment to him.
But that was not the worst of it.
Girren and Gilmesh, kneeling by the wall, were practically boiling with suppressed fury. Girren’s fingers clenched into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and his gaze was fixed on a single point—on Violet and about a dozen other girls seated at the table.
They sat with pale faces, trying not to move unnecessarily.
Valkeris and his lackeys treated them as if they were part of the entertainment. Laughter, crude jokes, hands casually settling on shoulders and waists—all of it happened openly, without the slightest attempt to hide it. Sometimes one of the girls would cry out, sharply pulling away and shaking off their hands, but the only response she received was laughter.
To them, it was a game.
Gilmesh, trembling with rage, leaned forward slightly and hissed through clenched teeth, “If it weren’t for that Overseer Malzir, I’d have torn their heads off already…”
Girren slowly exhaled, not taking his eyes off what was happening, and just as quietly, barely restraining himself, replied, “That vile Overseer is a Golden Mage. We can’t take him on… Moreover… until Kael returns, it’s better not to act rashly…”
At that moment, Violet felt as though she might be sick at any second.
Her jaw tightened, nausea rose to her throat, and she wanted to turn away and close her eyes, but she kept herself under control, not allowing herself a single sudden movement or stray emotion.
Valkeris’s heavy hand rested lazily on her shoulder, as if he saw her as his property.
He idly stroked her, without interrupting his conversation or his drinking, as though it were something entirely natural.
Clenching her teeth, Violet thought, “Kael was assigned to watch over us… That means he will answer for any of our actions… I have to endure.”
That thought was the only thing she held onto now. But in the next moment, Violet’s gaze involuntarily shifted to the side, and her heart skipped a beat.
To the left of Valkeris sat Estelle—the girl they had only just met.
“She looks completely drained…” Violet thought with a sinking feeling.
Estelle sat motionless, her back tense, her fingers clenched so tightly that her long nails began to dig into her skin. Fear filled her eyes, and she didn’t even try to hide it.
And at that moment, Valkeris’s hand slowly shifted from Violet’s shoulder to her neck.
Violet involuntarily swallowed, feeling everything inside her go cold.
“Looks like this bastard won’t stop at just stroking…” flashed through her mind. “And Estelle knows it all too well.”
Violet’s heart began to beat faster.
Fear began to rise, tightening around her chest, and tears welled up in her eyes, which she barely held back.
And amidst all of this, only one thought remained in her mind: “What do we do? How do we break free from the clutches of these bastards?”