CHAPTER 115: CHAPTER 115 - THE AFTERMATH OF THE MISSION (2)

Morning light filtered through the high-arched windows of Arcadia Academy, painting the white-stone halls with soft gold. A breeze carried the scent of dew and blooming manaflowers from the east garden, and students in uniform bustled about with morning chatter and sleepy yawns.

But for Luca Von Valentine, none of that mattered.

He was trudging through the corridors, clutching the side of his head, expression somewhere between groggy and horrified.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Seraphina’s angry voice echoed in his mind like a gong.

Earlier that morning, he had barely stirred from sleep when his communication crystal lit up on the nightstand. The second he accepted it, Seraphina’s furious face shimmered into view, blue hair pulled tightly into a morning bun, eyes blazing with a familiar wrath.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"W-What do you mean?" Luca had asked, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Hmph! Do you have some problem with peace or what? Can’t go one week without raising hell?"

"W-what?" he stammered, completely lost.

"Come to my office. AS SOON AS POSSIBLE."

And just like that, the connection had cut off. He had stared at the now-dark crystal for a full five seconds before sleep evaporated from his body.

Now, freshly showered, uniform crisply worn, and the baby dragon still sleepy summoned back into the beast space, he made his way to the Seraphina’s office with growing dread.

People were still staring.

Yesterday, he’d been too exhausted to care. But now, walking through the academic hallways, he felt every glance.

"Is that the guy who—?"

"Yeah, I heard he vaporized a cultist with his aura alone."

"Did you see the photos? They say there were twenty bodies."

Luca grit his teeth. Photos?

Something had definitely happened. But what?

He finally arrived at the ornate door of Professor Seraphina’s office—a dark mahogany door with glowing runes carved into the frame. A plaque beside it read Ms.Seraphina — Magic Department instructor

He raised a hand and knocked.

Ain’t I coming here a little too often lately?, he thought grimly.

"Come in," came the voice from inside.

Luca pushed the door open.

The office was as immaculately chaotic as always—bookshelves stacked to the brim, floating scrolls lazily circling the ceiling, and an alchemy flask bubbling in a corner despite no one attending to it. Seraphina sat at her desk, head buried in one hand, staring at something with such force it looked like she might set it on fire.

She glanced up as he entered.

"Sit," she said simply.

He obeyed, the chair creaking lightly under him.

A long silence followed.

She didn’t even speak—just stared at him like a ticking bomb. Luca felt sweat bead at the back of his neck.

"...W-What happened, Professor?" he asked cautiously.

Seraphina sighed—deep and tired. She finally turned the scroll on her desk toward him.

It was a magical news bulletin. The title burned in bright red letters.

"DEMON IN THE SHADOWS — LUCA VALENTINE SLAUGHTERS CULTISTS IN RUINED CHURCH."

Beneath it... were photos.

One showed a shadowy figure in a moonlit church—sabers dripping red, corpses scattered like leaves in a storm. Another was a close-up: his face in the half-light, crimson eyes, wild hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.

"...You were followed," Seraphina said flatly.

Luca’s eyes widened. "Wait—is this from a reporter?"

"Yes. One of those

types. Rumor-chasers." She tapped the scroll with a finger. "Farrel Ronfield. Central Chronicle. Claims to have been ’investigating cult activity’ nearby."

Luca groaned and slumped back. "I didn’t even sense him..."

"Obviously." She sat back, rubbing her temple. "Now the Empire is asking questions. Do we have a ruthless killer as a student? Has Arcadia trained a murderer?"

Luca winced. "Right. That’s... not ideal."

Seraphina raised a brow. "Not ideal? Luca, you have no idea how many nobles are frothing over this. Half of them are demanding to know why a first year student is carrying out high-clearance missions unsupervised. I personally vouched for you to take this mission, but I didn’t know it would cause this much trouble .The other half wants to recruit you as a personal asset."

He groaned again.

Seraphina folded her hands, resting her elbows on the desk. Her tone finally shifted—soft, but serious.

"...What happened, Luca? I want your version. Start to finish."

And with that, the interrogation began.

Luca sat on the edge of the chair, his posture straight but tense, hands resting on his knees. Across the desk, Seraphina watched him quietly, waiting. The late afternoon light filtered through the tall windows behind her, casting warm streaks across the room.

He took a breath, then began.

He explained everything—He first had to explain about the baby dragon, how the baby dragon had been kidnapped, how he and Selena followed the faintest of trails, how they’d infiltrated the hideout. His voice was even, but beneath it, the weight of that night trembled. He described the condition they found the baby dragon in—chained, bruised, her eyes dull with pain—and how that image had shattered something inside him.

His fists clenched slightly as he spoke. "I... lost my calm," he admitted, eyes dropping to the floor. "And after that... there was only blood."

Seraphina listened in silence, fingers steepled in front of her. When he finished, she slowly reached forward and gently clutched her forehead—then his fingers rested lightly for a moment as if trying to ease the weight he carried.

She let out a soft sigh.

"I understand what you did and why," she murmured, voice neither judging nor comforting. "But still... the situation won’t be favorable to you. The news was circulated yesterday morning, now the whole academy should know it, some students are still naive, they may avoid you, or be scared. "

She leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowing slightly. "I think you already noticed it."

Luca gave a slow nod, looking out the window. His voice was quiet.

"Everyone seems to be afraid of me... or avoiding me."

"It’s not... that bad, actually," Seraphina said, folding her arms. "Those who are afraid probably didn’t read the article in detail—they just saw the photos. You can’t explain it to everyone personally"

She glanced toward a neatly stacked pile of newspapers on her desk and gave a tired smile.

"But the article itself describes you as the hero. Although some nobles are trying to stir trouble," she added with a small wave of her hand, "there are others who are in your favor."

Then her eyes hardened, and her voice grew sharper.

"But that doesn’t mean you can cause such trouble again, understood?"

Luca nodded again, standing up slowly. "Can I leave?"

Seraphina inclined her head. "You may."

He turned toward the door, already reaching for the handle. But just before he could open it, her voice called out again—quieter this time.

"Are you feeling okay?"

He paused, glancing back at her over his shoulder. There was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he forced a smile.

"Of course I am."

Then, without waiting for her response, he stepped out into the corridor. His voice drifted back to her before the door closed behind him.

"See you in class."

Luca stepped out of Seraphina’s office and let the door close behind him with a soft click. The corridor outside felt strangely quiet.

He wandered aimlessly for a while—down hallways and past open courtyards—his steps unhurried. Everywhere he went, eyes followed him. Passing students would either look away quickly or whisper behind cupped hands.

This time, though, he understood why. The strange glances. The half-held gasps. The tension that clung to the air like fog.

Some stared with fear. Others with awe. A few with unease, like they couldn’t decide whether he was a hero or a monster.

But Luca didn’t stop. He didn’t explain. He simply kept walking, silent, letting their judgment pass over him like wind brushing against stone.

Eventually, he arrived in front of the large double doors of Class A. A faint hum of conversation buzzed from within—chatter, laughter, excitement.

He pushed open the door.

Instantly, the room fell into dead silence.

Every head turned toward him.

Every conversation stopped mid-sentence.

Eyes wide. Mouths slightly open.

The weight of the collective gaze hit him like a wave.

Luca didn’t flinch. He didn’t acknowledge it. With practiced indifference, he walked down the center aisle of the classroom, his footsteps echoing louder than they should have.

As he passed, the students parted instinctively, shrinking slightly in their seats. Whispers started again—faint, sharp, like knives being unsheathed.

But Luca kept walking, gaze forward, until he reached his seat near the window and sat down with quiet grace.

The stares didn’t stop. They clung to him like a second skin.

Eric, who was already seated beside him, leaned in slightly and asked with quiet concern,

"Hey... are you feeling okay?"

Before Luca could even open his mouth, another voice joined in.

"Are you doing okay?"

Lilliane’s voice was soft, but it cut through the tension like light through mist.

As Luca wondered why is everyone asking if I am okay, anyway?