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When Ronin returned for his 6th and final year, something felt a bit off as he entered the school gates.

Right.

Cermin has graduated. He’s not around to greet him and tackle him with a hug anymore, yapping his ears off about the things he did on vacation and ask him how was his.

Ronin just shrugged. Who cares about Cermin not being around to d those annoying stuff anymore? Those things were just a proof on how successful his plans as a villain was, being able to fool him and have him wrapped around his finger like that.

Right now, what matters was…

Gaining more levels by stealing Flame so he can finally be the king of darkness that he was always meant to be.

He had gained much EXP from his visit, and was currently at Level 48 now. 2 Levels left to become Anthracite, and eventually undergo his first transition to become an Obsidian.

Then, he’d get the first taste of actual immense power that he had been waiting for. He was halfway and don’t plan on stopping now.

He licked his lips in anticipation. As he went inside, he saw two girls talking.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Apprentice Naemhnaid. You are much more than just an attractive woman with great breasts, I’m sure people will realize that soon!”

Calla Lily was in her Calla mode yet seemed confused and doesn’t know how to respond.

“I….. You think my breasts are great?” She tried to shrug the doting off by going back to depraved behavior again. “My, Sister Rozenaur. I would not have thought a priestess like you would have such refined taste.”

Sister Rozenaur just blinked innocently. “Refined taste? They really are great. But they are not just the things great about you, you are a fearless leader, you manage many things at the same time, you speak your mind yet are also a charismatic woman who can get people of opposing sides into an agreement—-“

She really failed dodging all the praising and made it backfire, and her face went even redder than whenever her best friend Edelweiss would fluster her while in Lily mode.

“A-Alright….. Enough. I understand your point.” She cleared her throat. “Let’s just get to our individual classes and get to work. Though yours is no really a class and more like a sleeping party.”

“Meditation is not similar to sleeping.” Sister Rozenaur chuckled. “You close your eyes so you can abandon the physical realm and follow the line to the realm beyond, getting in touch with the Core of existence.”

Calla just did her usual exaggerated Calla laugh. “Hahahaha! Such poetic words to explain such a boring activity. Anyway….. Have a good day ahead.”

“You too! Remember what I said, Apprentice! You can do this, you can get that Professor position and prove them that you are more than your beautiful face and bosoms!”

“Alright, alright!” Calla walked briskly away, muttering to herself. “This damned Monk girl….”

They have really seemed to grow close. So close that it was a complete 180 turn from how much hostility was between them, though most of that hostility was from Calla only due to her father’s past with Marigold’s father.

She still seem to have some awkwardness on receiving the priestesses’ overflowing niceness, but she does seem genuine enough whenever she greets her with ‘Have a good day ahead’.

But Ronin did not focus on the girls for long. He focused on what Sister Rozenaur said just now.

Meditation can get you in touch with the Core.

He did see Mephisto Espinella meditating beside the Beacon when they first reunited. Maybe Ronin should try it too.

Getting in touch with the Core of existence itself…

That’s bound to gain him even more experience points.

Meanwhile, in honor of the new era from the Astral Shower, someone was invited to preside over the following changes in the atmosphere for this era.

He had been exiled and almost excommunicated out of the Order of Demetri, but because of his years of service after the incident, not to mention him being the most skilled astrologer there was…

Zeriav Mondstein steps foot on the Academy once more.

Before returning, he had passed by this poor beggar on the street, covered from head to toe by his cloak.

Zeriav always give alms to the poor, and so he handed out some gold coins to this poor thing, and even went to offer him a bead necklace as a blessing.

“This may help you with deliverance for every passing storm. You can also always go to the temple of Demetri for food to eat. The crops are bountiful and through him, one would never be hungry, impure or led astray.”

The beggar looked up to him with a smile, blue eyes gleaming beneath his dark cloak.

“Thank you, kind monk. But I shall not follow any god besides the only one that must be followed. He is the true Nature, he is the one that Nurtures, and it was he were all sprouted existence before even Diamant came to be.”

Zeriav understand, this beggar must be a follower of another god. But he can’t discern which god he was referring to. When he asked…..

The beggar cusps the coins in his hands, which suddenly sparks and crackle out of electric shock just from his touch.

“I am talking about Darkness itself, of course.”

————————-

Pavone walked the streets with his stomach grumbling. His skin had clung to his bones now for the lack of food to eat, and even when Rabuka tries her best to get money out of performances, he rejects any financial aide from her anyway.

It hurts his pride as a man to rely on something like money from a woman after all.

How the mighty have fallen indeed. One moment, he had all the riches and wealth in the world to bring a parade of Ruby-jewelled roses just for his beloved Rabuka…..

And now Rabuka was offering to give him some coins just so he would not be hungry anymore.

He despise it so much, how he had fallen. How the Blanc D’Argent had fallen.

And it was all HIS fault.

Someone struck him with a cane, and he tumbled to the ground. That person was a fat noble man, but nothing more than a toysmaker, and laughed at his demise.

“Filthy Blanc D’Argent. Hah!”

Their surname was even used like an insult now. Every time someone gets unfortunate, they always say ‘Well, at least you are not a Blanc D’Argent!’

It was so unbearable at times, this pain.

Sordido was off begging on the streets just like his mother did before, having no shame. He hated that younger brother of him, hated how he can easily act like a dog and fall onto anyone’s feet.

Especially to his feet.

“Please accept these alms I received, Big Brother! You can’t stay hungry again, you’ll really get an illness despite being a Noble!”

He goes on his knees offering this can with about a dozen or so gold coins.

Pavone kicked this can, causing the coins to spill out.

“Don’t insult me with your filthy beggar money. I’d rather die of hunger than accept them.”

He wished he could have drinks with Volken and complain about his misfortunes with him, but he was now exiled into military activity after all, and was currently at war.

War would be better than this poverty that he was in. Pavone wondered if he really would even be alive enough to see the change of the world…..

If only those damned girls did not interfere with his well-crafted plan to gain back his reputation, to be the hero in the eyes of the masses. To be someone again.

Not just a ‘filthy Blanc D’Argent’. But Pavone, the great.

He did not lift himself up from the ground from these thoughts, hoping that he would just get crushed by a carriage at this point…

When he came.

This man with beautiful blue hands reached out to him from his hood and lifted his chin up.

“My dear boy. You are sick with fever. You need a doctor.”

Pavone felt a tingling sensation on his chin were his skin touches with this man’s, and shivered from it. It was electricity, he was sure.

It sparked something in his close to dying heart that he had thought he had lost forever now.

His determination. His will to not just survive, but become great. His strive for excellence.

To be a good egg.

He thought he had cracked and was spoiled, but this man’s touch rejuvenated him.

“Come with me. I will heal you. You need some good food in you as well, warmth for your cold bones.”

He let this man lift him up and did not feel inferior or weak from being held like so. This man had lifted him all the way to an inn, and said softly:

“Can you get this money from my pocket?”

Pavone just weakly nodded and took the coins, but out tumbled some familiar blue beads.

These beads belonged to his friend….. Well, not really a friend, but a Monk he once used as a pawn.

“Oh dear. Well, I don’t plan to keep that bead necklace for long anyway. I just felt sorry for the poor disillusioned boy that insisted it will keep me ‘safe’.”

Pavone paid the innkeeper for them, and the man took his to a well-conditioned bedroom, gently laying him on the bed.

“I will heal you….. But you must swear servitude to my Lord in return. How does that sound, my boy?” The stranger asked in such a kind and sweet tone, wiping his hair away from his face.

Even from his father, he never felt such genuine kindness and tenderness.

“What… Is your name?” He asked first.

The man just smiled, and told him his name.

Pavone can only think as he had fallen asleep:

(What a beautiful name it is. Maellan.)