Chapter 13: Another chance

[Asher Vaishè's POV]

"Young master, we have arrived!!" The old man said as he pulled the reins of the horses.

I stepped out of the carriage and looked at the castle in front.

The Megla Empire's top academy, a place that builds the people who are supposed to build the Kingdom.

It's Lumosar.

.....the place where I am most hated.

The castle stood tall in front of me, with hordes of students passing by—eyes on me for a second before they avoided me completely and went towards their chores.

"I'll be back." Turning, I pulled the leather handbag out, but then decided to leave it in there, "...this won't be needed."

Shoving both hands into my pockets, I turned around and faced the academy again.

The high walls made the academy look more intimidating than a normal educational facility should. The towers around indicated different places for each subject taught here—Beast Mastery to potion making, everything.

My foot tapped on the cobblestone path leading to the big entry door, where an ominous-looking, fat, bald guy in a torn robe, with teeth falling apart and loose skin alongside a missing eye, greeted me.

He's Miche, the guard of academy grounds.

I ignored the gazes that fell on my back and—

"Pass— hehe, atta boy!" His rehearsed greeting was disrupted as I tossed the entry pass at his face, cutting off his taunts mid-sentence.

"Who do we have—ugh!?" He began, but the object had already connected with his face.

"Shove it up your ass," I muttered, sidestepping him and entering the academy grounds.

The pass fluttered to the ground, a symbol of something I might not need anymore—not after the decision I made last night.

Despite my arrival, the atmosphere here remained as uptight and strict as ever. Lumosar had a reputation for its stringent standards and its status as the pinnacle of education. It wouldn't have welcomed me easily, not without considerable effort—even if it took me two loops to secure my place.

Now here I am, facing the consequences of my actions, wondering if my decision was a mistake. Lumosar doesn't forgive easily, and I've certainly tested its patience.

***

The main entrance, adorned with ornate carvings, led to the impressive Great Hall—a vast chamber where the academy's illustrious history was reflected in ancient tapestries and banners.

Spread throughout the castle were classrooms, each dedicated to specific subjects, from Potion Making halls equipped with bubbling cauldrons to Elemental Studies rooms filled with mystical symbols. The library, a treasure trove of knowledge, hosted rows upon rows of books and ancient scrolls, inviting scholarly pursuits.

Dormitories, divided into houses, provided shelter to students, while laboratories buzzed with magical experiments and alchemical discoveries. The dining hall echoed with chatter and laughter as students gathered for meals, and courtyards offered serene spaces for contemplation or the practice of Herbology.

Outside, training grounds hummed with activity as students honed their combat skills, magical prowess, and physical abilities. An auditorium stood ready for lectures, performances, and school events, its stage beckoning to those eager to showcase their talents.

In the hallowed corridors of Lumosar, I found myself standing before the intimidating entryway of the classroom. A formidable woman stood within, her gaze piercing through her spectacles atop a finely sculpted nose. She greeted my arrival with a frown etched into her features, a testament to the weight she carried—a mix of experience and burden etched upon her face.

Her eyes, a deep brown, held a wisdom that belied her years, accentuated by strands of grey woven through her once chestnut hair. The stress of her responsibilities seemed etched into her every line, aging her beyond her actual years.

She's professor Astoria Snutter.

"You snarky little—!" Her curse was quickly stifled, and she hastened toward me, her stride hindered by the flowing length of her dress—a regal attire that seemed to challenge her agility. Despite this, her determination to intercept me before I entered the classroom was evident.

"Morning-huh?" I greeted, attempting to maintain a composed demeanor despite the whirlwind of events already stirring up my day.

*Tut*

I raised an eyebrow in response to the unexpected gesture, feeling the firm grip of Professor Snutter clasping my elbow with an urgent force.

"Follow me, you little bug brain!" Her command came sharply, her eyes avoiding mine as she pulled me along.

I was left perplexed, unable to decipher the reason behind her uncharacteristic behavior. Professor Snutter had always been a strict teacher, but witnessing her panic was an unprecedented and confusing turn of events.

Professor Snutter's hurried pace matched the racing tempo of my heartbeat as she forcefully tugged me through the maze of pathways that crisscrossed the academy's grounds. The serene landscape blurred by in a whirlwind of greenery and stone architecture. Several professors we passed nodded in greeting, their faces filled with concern, but Snutter's determined stride didn't falter, her focus solely fixed on our destination.

We passed by the central courtyard, adorned with beautifully sculpted fountains and lush gardens, where groups of students engaged in discussions under the watchful eyes of vigilant professors. Snutter's relentless pace pulled me past this scene, her grip on my elbow unyielding, her urgency palpable.

The winding pathways led us past classrooms bustling with activity and the occasional peal of laughter echoing through the corridors. Our hurried journey continued until we reached the imposing structure that housed the headmaster's cabin—a formidable building crafted from dark oak and embellished with ornate designs.

With a swift turn, we approached the door, and with a knock, Snutter abruptly halted, her chest heaving as she waited for the door to be answered.

"What's happening, Mrs. Snutter?" I attempted to question, but the tension in the air indicated there was more than she was willing to divulge.

"Shut your cake hole, Asher. You better apologize," she snapped, scrutinizing me from head to toe.

"That's none of your business," I retorted, pulling my hand away from her grasp.

The truth was, if I was being expelled, I couldn't care less. The academy seemed pointless to me at this stage anyway. Despite spending a whole year here, the knowledge I gained could have been acquired elsewhere. It might have taken longer, but Lumosar didn't seem like the sole purveyor of such education.

The door groaned slightly as Snutter pushed it open and stepped inside, inevitably dragging me along.

"Headmaster," she called to the man seated at the end of the cabin.

There were nothing but thousands of books, grimoires and documents in this cabin while a frail looking old man in a grey robe with pure white hair on his long beard and balding head.

"Vaishè..." his voice resonated in the cabin.

The man's demeanor sent a shiver down my spine—his skeletal hands seemed to have no flesh, only skin covering bones.

"Morning, Headmaster Delhore," I greeted.

His expression wrinkled a bit at my casual salutation, expecting perhaps something more formal. What does he expect after everything?

"Quite... unorthodox behavior you displayed last night," he remarked as he rose from his chair.

Verbally sparring in front of the entire school, disrespecting students from other schools, and culminating it all by hurling insults at a Duke's daughter during an interschool ball—meant to foster sportsmanship between schools before tournaments.

"Yeah, I did, I guess," I conceded.

He sighed heavily, "When you first arrived and showcased the depth of your intellect, we had high hopes for you. But for better or worse, you've clung to that attitude of yours."

Blame me, as if they don't know how the other nobles treat me.

Delhore turned away, squinting his dark eyes as he retrieved a small parchment from a nearby drawer.

"You are expelled from the academy," he declared, his eyes glinting. With a touch of a small blue stone held in his palm, the parchment floated toward me.

Uncountable nights spent studying for entrance exams, hours devoted to lectures, all for the chance to become head of the house—it all felt feeble.

As the parchment approached, my hand reached out, but before I could touch it, it was snatched away.

My gaze shifted to Snutter.

"Get out of the cabin, Mr. Asher," she commanded, pausing briefly. "I'd like to speak with the Headmaster for a moment."