Chapter 576: Continental Festival 5
A week before the start of the Grand Continental Festival, the academy was already alive with commotion.
The air practically buzzed with anticipation as famous dignitaries, envoys, and well-known figures arrived early to settle in and prepare for the event.
Carriages of every design—sleek gilded ones from the northern kingdoms, sturdy armored ones from the warrior clans, and even enchanted ones carried by winged beasts—rolled through the grand gates.
Each bore flags stitched with the crests of their respective academies and schools, bright banners fluttering proudly in the wind.
One after another, students disembarked.
Their uniforms, their postures, even their very auras set them apart.
Some wore flowing robes stitched with runes, others armored coats etched with battle scars.
Different races mingled together—beastkin, elves, humans, and even the rare dwarves—each carrying the weight of their institutions and expectations.
"So, this is the academy."
The words slipped from the mouth of a young man with striking red hair and eyes that burned like embers.
Hajey’s gaze wandered up the towering spires of the castle-like dormitory looming before him.
Its sheer size and grandeur caught him off guard, though he masked it behind a tone of casual intrigue. He hadn’t expected the famed academy to feel so... overwhelming.
"Haha, you sound surprised," a voice chimed beside him.
Cristo, his longtime companion, clapped him on the shoulder with an easy grin.
"It’s Lumen Academy, you know. The reason people just call it the academy is because of how great it is."
"Does that matter?" Hajey shot back with a glance. "The title of ’the greatest’ should be earned, not inherited."
Cristo smirked, unfazed. "Hmm~ maybe. But I wouldn’t say it’s unshakable. Think about it—if their prestige was so absolute, why suddenly create this grand festival? Doesn’t that scream desperation to you? Like they’re trying to patch up their reputation."
He stroked his chin theatrically, his expression thoughtful yet mocking. "What if we defeat all our opponents here? What if our martial cult crushes every other faction? Shouldn’t that make us the true academy? No—maybe even the ’strongest martial cult on the continent’ would sound better."
Hajey fell silent for a moment, actually weighing Cristo’s words before shaking his head lightly.
Doesn’t matter....
The truth was, he hadn’t come here chasing titles or recognition like the others.
His reasons for entering this academy, for stepping into the eye of the continent’s spotlight, were far more personal—and far more dangerous.
Meanwhile, not far from where Hajey’s group stood, another cluster of students had begun to gather.
Their arrival was marked by carriages of an entirely different style—slender frames carved with flowing patterns that seemed less made and more grown.
The wood glistened as if still alive, roots curling seamlessly into wheels.
Vines and faint blossoms clung to the frames, giving them a natural grace that stood out amid the heavy iron and lavish gold of other academies’ transports.
The students stepping down wore uniforms of deep green, their tunics and cloaks trimmed with delicate threads of gold and white.
Together with their long, pointed ears and the quiet aura of earth and air surrounding them, they could only be elves of the Ariana Academy.
Their presence seemed to carry a breeze of the forest itself into the academy’s stone halls, setting them apart from the crowd gathering in front of Killian Hall.
"Brother, those people... are they from the Eastern Empire?" a soft voice asked.
"Yes," came the answer.
"Their dress—it looks similar to ours, yet different at the same time. How intriguing."
"Don’t stare too much, Fay."
The younger elf quickly averted her gaze at her brother’s gentle rebuke, tucking her curiosity away with a nod.
Melan, standing beside her, let his own eyes linger only a moment longer. Unease and intrigue mingled in his chest.
This was the first time he had stepped so far beyond the borders of the Elven Kingdom.
Though the academy grounds were not devoid of nature—green courtyards, flowering trees, and faint traces of carefully tended spirit plants—compared to the endless living canopy of the Ariana Forest, it felt barren.
A cultivated imitation of what was home.
Not to mention the humans.
So many gathered in one place, their voices loud, their movements restless.
Melan reminded himself that here they were the odd ones, not the other way around.
The academy had a reputation for welcoming all races, and already, as he crossed the gates, he had felt the presence of other elves scattered within the grounds.
Even so, the thought refused to leave him.
I wonder if Princess Vanessa has already noticed us...
He stretched his senses, subtle as he could, searching for the familiar thread of her presence.
But with the sheer scale of the academy and the sea of power gathered within its walls, the attempt was futile.
Any more and he risked drawing attention—something he could not afford on their very first day.
Soon, more carriages began arriving in succession, each bearing the banners and crests of their respective academies.
Within the span of an hour, six different academies had gathered before the towering front doors of Killian Hall.
The plaza outside the hall was vast, built with white marble steps and wide enough to host banquets for kings, so the arrival of nearly forty students per academy barely pressed against its capacity.
Under the instructions of their principals and instructors, each group began forming into orderly lines.
Columns stretched back by year and rank, the strongest students of each class standing at the front to represent their peers.
The air was thick with tension.
The battles hadn’t even begun, yet already sharp gazes slid across the lines.
Everyone was silently measuring, comparing, trying to determine who might stand in their way.
Since no one yet knew how the matchups would be decided, every detail—a stance, a presence, the way someone carried themselves—could be the first glimpse into a potential opponent.
VRRRRRR...!
The massive doors of Killian Hall stirred, their weighty stone hinges rumbling as they began to open.
Every head turned.
Then silence.
"Woah..."
"...???!?!"
"Is that...??"
"No way..."
"Oh goddess..."
The murmurs rippled through the gathered students like a sudden wave.
Some looked as though their eyes had betrayed them, others gaped openly, and more than a few stared as though divinity itself had descended from the heavens.
Because what emerged through those doors wasn’t simply a guide.
It was the embodiment of beauty itself.
Snow Luvenitia White Germonia Leven, crown princess of the Germonia Empire and the current Student Council President of the Academy, stepped gracefully into view.
Her every movement seemed deliberate yet effortless, strands of pure white hair catching the sunlight as though spun from silver thread.
When she lifted her hand to tuck one lock behind her ear, the crowd seemed to collectively hold its breath.
Her sapphire-blue eyes, clear as frozen lakes, swept calmly across the sea of students, and when they locked onto someone, it felt less like being seen and more like being acknowledged by the heavens.
Melan, despite being elven—despite having grown in a kingdom where beauty was said to rival the sacred trees themselves—found himself stunned.
’She’s Beautiful...’
His people had long believed their race unmatched in grace, a living ideal of natural perfection.
Yet standing here, he realized that belief could be broken.
There existed a human capable of transcending that barrier.
Snow’s smile, faint but warm, melted through the weight of the crowd’s awe. When she finally spoke, her voice carried lightly yet reached every corner of the plaza.
"Good day, everyone. My name is Snow Luvenitia White Germonia Leven—current student council president of Lumen Academy, and your guide for this brief tour of Killian Hall. Please, follow me carefully, and we will begin."
The moment she turned, even the air seemed to follow.
.....
"Hahaha, this place sure is nice... but couldn’t they have made more accommodations?"
Cristo muttered as he flicked open the curtain of their room, peering outside with mild disappointment.
"Sigh... I guess the rumors about the academy struggling financially were true, huh~"
From the other side of the room, Hajey lowered his book just enough to give his partner a tired glance.
He was already sprawled on the large bed, back against the headboard, looking as though the day’s journey hadn’t touched him.
"The academy putting foreign students like us inside Killian Hall is already a privilege in itself. Do you even realize that only the top ten of their own academy students are normally allowed in here? This place wasn’t designed to house such a massive number of outsiders."
Cristo blinked, then chuckled. "Hm. Of course I know that. I just... you know, expected something a little more bizarre. Granted, this room is easily bigger than both our dorms back home combined. No, actually, this whole section is probably bigger than the living room of my entire house."
"Then stop complaining," Hajey muttered flatly.
"Got it~!" Cristo sang, his grin wide. Then he turned, stretching as if a thought had suddenly struck him. "Ah, by the way, us being roommates like this is truly the course of fate. You know, maybe we should start revealing our true feelings for each oth—GUGCHK!!!"
A book smacked him square in the face, sending him crashing down to the floor.
"Shut it already. You’re only here because you’re ranked below me." Hajey’s voice carried zero amusement. He leaned forward slightly, dark eyes narrowing. "Anyways, have you already informed our martial brothers?"
"O-Ow..." Cristo groaned, rubbing his forehead as he scrambled back to his feet. "Well, yes, I sent word. But... are you sure we should start our search on the very first day?"
"Yes." Hajey’s tone brooked no argument. "The earlier we begin, the better. The more information we collect, the less time we’ll waste later. And based on the rumors surrounding him, he’s not exactly the type who’s easy to hide. Finding him won’t take long."
Cristo pursed his lips but nodded. "Alright, if you say so..." He stepped toward the door, muttering under his breath as he left the room.
The door clicked shut.
For a long moment, silence filled the chamber, broken only by the faint rustling of pages as Hajey closed his book.
He leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ornate ceiling, though his eyes weren’t really seeing it.
His hand drifted to the back of his neck, fingers brushing against the skin there almost unconsciously.
A memory flickered. A fight.
The smell of fear and blood.
A figure whose presence alone seemed to crush the air out of his lungs.
The echo of a humiliation he swore he would never allow again.
His jaw tightened.
"We need to avoid that guy at all costs..."