“It looks like someone beat us to it,” Juliet muttered in a low voice, her expression dark as she stared at the lifeless body sprawled before her in the ransacked room.
Freya hummed softly, her calm demeanor undisturbed as she approached the corpse. Without hesitation, she bent down and picked up a piece of paper lying atop the body. Her eyes scanned its contents, her face betraying no emotion.
Dear Headmistress Freya,
After much overthinking, I decided to take matters into my own hands and uncover the truth about the mana collar that malfunctioned during the void hunting test.
It seems my instincts were correct. Instructor Drew had quite a few interesting confessions to make. For starters, he admitted to being the reason the mana collars could be remotely controlled, his connections to the underground world, and his dealings with the organization known as FreeWings.
As for why FreeWings asked him to tamper with the collars, he claimed ignorance.
I hope this information proves useful, and perhaps we can collaborate again sometime?
Your most favorite cadet,
A.C.
As Freya finished reading, the corners of her lips curved ever so slightly into a faint smirk before her expression flattened once more.
“What does it say?” Juliet asked.
Without a word, Freya handed the letter over. Juliet began reading, her face growing colder with each line. By the time she finished, her gaze shifted from the letter to the body—specifically to the severed ear lying nearby, separated from Instructor Drew’s corpse.
“Does he think this is a game? Torturing and killing an instructor inside the academy… He should be punished.”
“No, he won’t,” Freya replied coolly. “He simply eliminated a problem we failed to handle ourselves on time. Drew gambled with his life. It’s only fair he lost.”
Freya cast one last indifferent glance at Drew’s body before turning away without another word.
“Clean this up. Make sure no one else finds out about it.”
Juliet clenched her fists, crumpling the letter as she glared at Freya’s retreating figure. But she said nothing, her anger simmering in silence as she watched Freya leave the room.
Looking back at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand, Juliet’s face twisted with sudden confusion.
“How did he even know it was Instructor Drew before us?”
*****
Azriel knocked on the door in front of him a few times, suppressing a yawn. He heard footsteps approaching from the other side before the door opened with a click, revealing Lumine. The cadet looked surprised to see Azriel standing there.
Azriel raised a hand in greeting, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Yo, can I come in?”
Lumine blinked, seemingly processing the question, before nodding slowly.
“Yeah… sure.”
Azriel stepped inside without hesitation, hanging his coat on the nearby rack. His eyes wandered around the room as he took a few steps forward, casually inspecting his surroundings.
‘Looks pretty much the same as mine… just a bit smaller. Most wouldn’t even notice, but the furniture’s a little cheaper. Yeah, no real difference.’
Making his way to the couch, Azriel sank into it and let out a satisfied sigh. Lumine, still standing near the door, approached with a perplexed expression.
“Not that I mind, but… why are you here? Do you need something from me?”
Azriel turned his head lazily toward him, as though considering the question, before shaking his head.
“No—well, yes. I need a place to crash. Three princesses took over my room.”
Lumine stared at him blankly, his expression growing more confused by the second. Discover exclusive tales on My Virtual Library Empire
“H-huh? We have three princesses in the academy? Wait, why did they take your room?”
Azriel shrugged, his tone indifferent.
“We do now. They wanted to have a sleepover and decided my place was the perfect spot. I didn’t want to make things awkward, so I came here.”
He flashed Lumine a bright smile.
“You’ll let me stay, right?”
Lumine sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked at Azriel with a resigned expression.
“Sure… I guess one more doesn’t matter.”
“One more?” Azriel tilted his head, confused.
Before Lumine could respond, another door opened behind them. A boy with long black hair and dark eyes stepped out, a towel draped around his neck and his damp hair clinging to his face.
“Man, your bath is way bigger than mine! Why is there such a difference between our rooms? I almost fell asleep in there!”
Vergil strode excitedly toward Lumine, who smiled bitterly. Azriel turned his head, raising an eyebrow as his gaze met Vergil’s. The moment their eyes locked, Vergil froze in place.
“Why are you here?” Azriel asked.
An awkward laugh escaped Vergil.
“Ah, well… I-I had something important to discuss with Cadet Lumine.”
Lumine rolled his eyes, cutting in before Vergil could dig himself deeper.
“What he means is, he thinks the beds here are way more comfortable than the ones in his room. So, he decided to crash at my place.”
Vergil’s eyes widened as he stared at Lumine.
“You… betray me like this?”
Azriel chuckled at the exchange, while Lumine ignored Vergil’s theatrics.
Vergil sighed dramatically, dragging himself to the couch. He slumped down next to Azriel, sinking into the plush material with a defeated look.
Lumine scratched the back of his neck, offering a forced smile.
“I’ll make us some tea.”
“Bring some snacks too,” Vergil added, without missing a beat.
Azriel nodded in agreement, echoing Vergil’s request. Lumine turned toward the kitchen but couldn’t help muttering under his breath,
“You could at least help…”
Neither of them responded, pretending not to hear him.
As soon as Lumine was far enough, Azriel turned his sharp gaze toward Vergil. The other boy avoided eye contact, pretending to inspect the room while whistling off-key.
“Damn, I really need to get stronger,” Vergil muttered.
“If I ace the exams, I might finally get a room like this. It’s unfair—I want to sleep like a king too.”
Azriel’s lips curved into a faint smile. Without warning, he clamped a hand on Vergil’s shoulder. His grip tightened, and Vergil turned his head toward Azriel with the jerky, reluctant motion of a puppet.
“I-it’s been a while, hasn’t it…?” Vergil stammered, forcing an awkward laugh.
Azriel said nothing, his expression unreadable as his grip tightened further. Vergil’s forced smile faltered, and he let out another nervous chuckle.
“You know, you’re really incredible,” Vergil said quickly.
“I tell you about the Heptarch I saw in my dream back in the void dungeon, and the next thing I know, he’s lying limbless in front of me. Then you’re standing there, cool as ice, ordering his head to be ripped off like it’s no big deal.”
“…”
Vergil swallowed hard, his discomfort palpable.
“Seriously, though… what is it you want?”
Azriel sighed, finally loosening his grip.
“You met with Anastasia today, didn’t you?”
Vergil’s eyes widened instantly.
“What the—how did you know? Do you have spies? Cameras on me or something?”
Ignoring the ridiculous look Vergil shot him, Azriel released his shoulder and leaned back. His voice was calm, almost indifferent.
“I know that you know she’s the Apostle of War.”
Vergil froze.
“How did you…”
Azriel cut him off before he could finish the question.
“Don’t mess with her unless you’re ready for a permanent scar.”
Vergil studied Azriel for a moment, his face darkening.
“You really know how to ruin my fun, don’t you?”
Azriel raised an eyebrow, his tone unbothered.
“I’m just warning you. If you’re dead set on provoking her, be prepared for the consequences. Even most children of the great clans wouldn’t dare cross her.”
Vergil fell silent, mulling over Azriel’s words. Finally, he spoke.
“I’ll take your advice into consideration… but it’s unfair if you’re the only one playing with the Apostles.”
Azriel’s expression didn’t change, but his tone grew colder.
“Think about it carefully. And don’t assume the other Apostles are like the ones here in the academy.”
Vergil frowned, his curiosity piqued.
“What do you mean?”
Azriel didn’t answer, his gaze shifting toward Lumine, who was approaching with a tray of tea and a bag of chips.
“Is something the matter?” Lumine asked.
Azriel smiled, his demeanor relaxing.
“No, just catching up with him.”
Lumine nodded, placing the tray of tea and the bag of chips on the table in front of them. He sank into the couch with a tired sigh.
After a brief moment, he seemed to remember something. His gaze flicked toward Vergil and Azriel.
“Did both of you also get told to meet the Headmistress tomorrow?”
Vergil frowned, shaking his head, and Azriel followed suit.
Lumine rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Yelena and I did, though…”
Vergil scratched his nose.
“Maybe you two are getting punished for doing something wrong?”
Azriel spoke before Lumine could respond.
“When did he ever do anything wrong? It’s probably a reward for what happened on the second floor of the void dungeon.”
‘Is she finally going to train the two of them?’ Azriel wondered.
He recalled the conversation he’d had with Freya after the void dungeon incident. She had mentioned the possibility back then.
‘Now that I think about it, didn’t I complete the mission Freya assigned me? Well… no, Cadet Kanae did die, I suppose.’
But Freya had never explicitly said he had to save every cadet.
In fact, Azriel had fulfilled his mission by letting Nol and Jasmine handle the cadets’ safety. Kanae’s death was something beyond his control. Even now, he had no explanation for what Instructor Benson had done to kill her.
Was it poison?
A [Unique Skill]?
Unfortunately, as the Son of Death, Azriel couldn’t communicate with the dead.
He had already left a letter for Freya, one she must have read by now. A meeting with her was inevitable.
Freya also knew about the organization called FreeWings.
In fact, it would have been more surprising if someone in her position didn’t.
Unlike Neo Genesis, who operated in the shadows of Asia, FreeWings wasn’t subtle. But they weren’t supposed to appear this early.
Usually, they only showed interest once someone like Lumine became strong enough—once his name began to spread. This time, though, Azriel had caught their attention much earlier.
It wasn’t hard to see why.
FreeWings wasn’t afraid of challenging the four great clans.
Azriel, as a prince and the Apex, with his achievements piling up and his name spreading like wildfire, had become an obvious target. The bounty on his head from the Supreme Archon alone was enough to make him a magnet for dangerous organizations.
It was inevitable that FreeWings had marked him as prey.
‘But now that they’ve claimed me, no one else would dare to come after me… unless they want to challenge them too.’
Azriel’s thoughts shifted.
A certain event was drawing closer, one he doubted his presence had altered. Without a doubt, one or more members of FreeWings would attend.
The idea made his lips curl into a crooked smile.
Vergil and Lumine, deep in conversation, noticed the change in his expression. They exchanged wary glances before scooting away from him slightly.
‘…It’s only fair if I strike back.’