They all rose to their feet, lifting their hands to reveal the backs of their palms marked with the tattoo of a crimson leaf, and proclaimed in unison,
""By your will,""
before filing silently out of the chamber.
Once the meeting had concluded, the cult leader gazed into the crimson window, staring into its blood-red glow, lost in thought. Moments later, Silas re-entered and approached quietly.
"Cult leader."
"Oh come on, I've asked you to use my name when we're alone,"
"Yes… Casimir."
"Good." He turned slightly toward the older man. "Silas, you have lived a long life. You served under my father—the former leader—and watched his reign closely."
"Indeed, sir Casimir. Your father was a formidable man. His teachings remain the very foundation of our doctrine."
"Do you believe he would approve of the path I've chosen… of the actions I've set in motion?"
Silas paused, choosing his words with care. "… I'm not sure it holds much significance now."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Just what I said. It doesn't really matter. He is not you, and he is no longer here." Silas inclined his head slightly. "I apologize if my words offend."
"No. Please, go on."
"Ultimately, only you can make the decisions now—as long as they remain true to our doctrines. And your course… it seeks the swift arrival of the Lord, the very vision our first leader died to achieve. How could that not be acceptable?"
"Thank you for those words, Silas."
"You are always welcome… Cult Leader."
"We will see this through to the very end. We will bring justice for our people's suffering and herald the arrival of Lord Xylos—no matter the cost."
Silas bowed his head once more.
"By your will."
----+----
El had spent the past three weeks quite productively, focusing on his training alongside his sister and preparing the essentials for school. While the academy provided most supplies, he still needed to gather some essentials. He also caught up on sleep, anticipating a busy and stressful semester ahead. He envied those who could enjoy a peaceful mind just a week before finals and wished he could share in that calm, but maintaining his position in the top ten was essential for accessing valuable privileges.
Today marked his departure, and his sister was noticeably anxious.
Standing just outside a Valerius owned mansion's entrance, in the central city with a resigned expression, El felt ready to leave, yet his sister's worry had her fidgeting.
"Have you packed everything?"
"Your skin looks quite dry. Did you remember your moisturizer?"
"What about your headache pills?"
"Can't you stay for a few more days or weeks before you go?"
"Sis!" El finally interjected, his voice strained with fatigue. "You really don't need to fret so much about me; everything will be fine," he assured her with a smile. To further ease her concerns, he added, "Besides, I can visit this mansion in central city,if you around occasionally using my privileges.
That seemed to put her at ease.
"Fine, I'll leave your hair, but please take care of yourself. If you need anything, just call. I'll do whatever it takes to get it to you, okay?"
"I got it," El replied as he picked up a lighter bag while the butlers helped load the rest into the car's trunk. As he reached the door, a butler politely held it open for him, and a familiar figure followed him inside—a maid named Bely, whom his sister referred to as her unofficial friend, would accompany him and assist with his needs. Such arrangements were generally prohibited, but with his rank and privileges, he could manage it.
Before they departed, El heard his sister call out one last time,
"Take care, El! And you too, Bely. Please look after my brother; he can sometimes seem like a loner. Bye!"
Her voice faded as the engine roared to life, echoing the sentiment of someone who understood his place within it all.
----
For Bely, it had been around three weeks since her reassignment to the upper levels of the main mansion. There was no mercy for her; she was worked to the bone. Even during her free time, the young miss would summon her as if she were a new toy, leaving only when she was satisfied. It was exhausting, and now she found herself in a new role as the young master's maid. She turned her gaze to him, who was absorbed in his phone, his stylishly tousled dark blue hair obscuring most of his eyes.
Nevertheless, she could catch a glimpse of the gray tint peeking through the strands.
'It wouldn't be so bad working alongside him and seeing that sight frequently,' she mused.
'But please, let the work not be tiresome.'As she kept her gaze fixed on him, he caught her staring, his notorious gray eyes locking onto hers. A sudden wave of pressure settled over her, sending shivers down her spine, prompting her to divert her eyes quickly. "W-what was that?"
Such reactions were not uncommon; Bely was not a gifted and lacked access to mana. However, with mana permeating the air, even ungifted individuals could perceive the constructs of mana surrounding them. What she felt was the overwhelming presence of heavy mana, a sensation typically only experienced by the ungifted during fierce conflicts between gifted individuals, where mana usage peaked. This phenomenon didn't occur with just any gifted person; it was exclusive to high-stage integrations or radiant-stage individuals.
El, however, wasn't particularly that high, yet his unique eyes interacted constantly with mana, allowing him to emit a presence of heavy mana. Although it wasn't harmful to those like Bely, it was profoundly uncomfortable—just as she felt at that moment.
El, either oblivious or dismissive of her discomfort, continued to gaze at her before returning his attention to his phone.
Suddenly, he spoke with a small smirk, "Bely, right? My sister mentioned quite a bit about your unhinged thought process. I'm starting to see what she meant."
Her eyes widened. 'Can he read my mind?, It wouldn't be so surprising, considering he was gifted'.
El seemed to anticipate her thoughts. "No, I can't. That's not my area; I'm more of a pure mage than a diviner. It's just that your thoughts are evident on your face."
Bely stiffened, but before she could respond, El added, "And don't worry, I won't overwork you. Just some cleaning and occasional cooking." Not wanting to embarrass herself further, she agreed with a simple, "Yes, Young Master."
Silence enveloped them until they finally arrived at the academy, driving through the city towards the housing building where he would reside.
---
Standing before the door of his designated room, marked with the number 4, a flicker of irritation washed over him. It was common knowledge that each year had its own housing arrangement; the higher one's class ranking, the more desirable the room. The top ten students enjoyed the finest amenities, with the top ranker receiving an entire floor exclusively to themselves. Currently, in his first year, the semester's rankings determined the allocations, but due to an unfortunate complication, he had to share the fourth rank with another student, a fact that irked him—he could have easily claimed the top spot... or actually perhaps settled for second.
After spending nearly two hours unpacking and getting used to his new room, he found himself feeling aimless—free but undeniably bored, with little to occupy his thoughts. He decided to call Noah. Grabbing his phone, he scrolled through his contacts until he found Noah's name. The call rang briefly before a cacophony of voices broke through, followed by Noah's enthusiastic voice:
"Heyyyy El! Where are you right now?"
"Hey Noah, I just got to school. What about you?"
"Get to my room! We're all here!"
"Wait, we? Who's we?"
But the call had already ended before he could finish.
With a sigh, he changed out of his formal attire, switching his overcoat and cooperate clothes for a casual white t-shirt emblazoned with the phrase "my pen is bigger than yours," paired with light blue baggy jeans and rubber clogs. He was ready to go.
Before heading out, he made a pit stop in his bedroom, retrieving a small bottle of pills from his personal bag beside the bed. These were his medication for headaches and any other symptoms related to his eyes; he took two and washed them down quickly. Fully prepared, Bely had gone out for essentials, so when he exited his room,he locked it behind him. Then he made his way over to Noah's room, which, although slightly annoying to say, was with a number above his own.
He walked a few steps and halted in front of room number 3,yes, It was just one rank above of his own, yet that small fact still irked him.
Knock knock.
Almost immediately, the door swung open with a force that made him think it might come off its hinges. Standing there was Noah, a lean figure with curly brown hair, light brown eyes, and a youthful face that radiated energy.
"Hey El, you finally made it!"
"What's up, Noah?"
"Good! Come in, come in!"
As he stepped into the living room, he noticed it was almost a mirror image of his own—though adorned with a few gaming-themed posters. His gaze then drifted to the gathering of familiar faces, revealing the "we" Noah had mentioned: the top rankers were assembled—Delilah, Charlotte, Caspian, Caleb, Noah, and himself—the entire top five was present.
"Oh, what have we here?" a voice chimed, slightly grating on his nerves.
El's lips twitched.
------