The duo scaled the four flights of stairs, ascending towards the fifth floor where the eting was to be held. Thanks to their violet emblems, a real ti guide was flashing in front of them, ensuring they would not get lost.
They received a few curious glances from other students on their ascent and was even stopped by a snooty looking third-year student.
"First-years aren’t allowed on the upper floors," he spoke in a nasally voice, seemingly prepared to impede them on their journey—physically by the looks.
lody didn’t even respond, her sapphire eyes falling onto Michael beside her, as if waiting for him to do the grunt work.
With a slight hint of irritation, Michael flashed his violet emblem—seeing the boy’s expression freeze almost instantly. "We are the first-year representatives on our way to attend the student council eting," he said coldly.
"If you have any issues with us attending the eting, please take it up with the headmaster." He added before beginning his ascent once more—ignoring the nosy student.
lody followed in step, casting one final imperious glance at the guy before acting like he didn’t exist.
The nasally student could only watch with envy as the two first-years continued walking up the stairs, towards a place he would never be able to reach, even if he graduated.
"Why don’t people just mind their own business?" lody comnted, loudly enough for the teen to hear.
"Leave him be, he probably gets a kick out of acting above the first-years." Michael replied nonchalantly, as if the guy was too pitiful for him to even get angry.
Thankfully, the others they’d seen along the way rely cast curious glances their way, not bothering to act like security guards.
After passing the fourth floor, they arrived at the final level—the fifth floor. This was the floor where the professors dorm’s were, as well as the headmaster’s office.
Only select students had access to this area, and even fewer who didn’t need to be accompanied by a teacher. Class representatives fit into this category—since the student council room was also located on the floor.
The floor itself seed not much different to the one’s below it, the halls decorated with rich decor and burgundy carpet along the ground. But upon the walls hung portraits of various figures, so looking ancient—while others looked almost brand new.
Intrigued, Michael approached one of the portraits, an image of a regal woman with flowing crimson hair that spilled over her shoulders stared at them from within the painting.
Her eyes were sharp and intelligent and despite looking in her forties, there was a regal air about her—as if she was an important figure.
"Fifty-third headmaster of Arcadia Academy... Rivelda Arcadius." Michael muttered, reading the na plate on the fra.
"It’s pronounced Rivalda," the portrait spoke up, seeming indignant.
Michael was aghast, almost letting out a squeal of surprise as he took multiple steps back in fright.
"I-It talked!?" he exclaid, a finger pointed at the portrait accusingly.
lody jumped at his reaction, but it seed that she too was taken aback by the developnt. But while he was in shock, she seed far more intrigued at the situation than scared.
"How fascinating," she murmured, her sapphire eyes glowing briefly as she inspected the painting that was now moving within its fra.
"I can see a will within the fra, and an odd mana signature. Is the painting a magic artifact?"
"Oho, quite an impressive deduction young lady," Rivelda replied, her eyes seemingly shimring beyond the canvas. "I can sense that you have a great potential," she added, a smile playing on her lips.
"Beco my disciple, I will ensure that you grow to live up to your huge potential." She urged strongly.
"Aunt Velda is at it again..."
"Damn it Grandma, how many tis do we have to tell you that you’re dead? You can’t take a disciple as just a small will fragnt."
"Yeah! What is she ant to do? Carry you around with her all the ti?"
A cacophony of voices called out from the hall, yet when Michael turned he saw no one present. For a mont, he thought he was hearing things—but realization quickly dawned on him.
All of the portraits were speaking—it wasn’t just this one.
"Silence you fools! You don’t think I know my real body is dead?" She shouted furiously, addressing the other portraits. "This girl is special... I can sll the scent of Ancient magic on her."
"Velda dear... you can’t sll anything," A tired voice called from the portrait directly next to her.
It was an older man with a crimson mustache, curled at the ends. He bore a significant resemblance to Rivelda, though he appeared much less strict and uptight, but that still was not enough to diminish his presence.
Michael’s eyes moved to the naplate on the front of fra which labeled him as Gerald Arcadia—the fifty-first headmaster of Arcadia Academy.
"Father... you know what I an," Rivelda’s voice softened as she seemingly tried to reason with the man. "And look at her hair, it can’t be a—"
"Enough," the man said. Despite not raising his voice, the effect was instantaneous, causing the woman to back down.
The mustachioed Gerald glanced between Michael and lody his sharp gaze evaluating them intently before landing on the forr. A look of surprise flashed across his features before his lips curled up into a satisfied smile.
"You boy... I can sense the Arcana on you," he said—his tone full of confidence. "Take as your master and I’ll take you to heights you never thought poss—"
"Father!"
"Damn it Gerald!"
A collective outcry burst out from the other paintings, all admonishing Gerald for his hypocrisy. The voices echoed down the halls, making it difficult for Michael to think.
This was the first ti soone had picked out he’d entered the Arcana without any outside tools. The fact made him realize that even if Gerald was only a will fragnt of his forr self—the guy was knowledgeable.
"Michael, lody," a voice called out from down the hall. This ti, there was a familiar figure with long red hair and an eye-catching streak of blue within it, standing there.
Rose stared at them with an understanding gaze, a small smile on her lips, "Co this way, otherwise the old headmaster’s will talk your ears off." She said with so amusent.
Michael didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed lody’s arm and quickly ushered her away from the hall filled with the wills of dead headmasters.
"How forward!" One of the portraits exclaid.
"Grabbing a lady like that, are they perhaps in a relationship?"
As they made their way through the hall towards the student council room, the portraits of the old headmasters discussed the duo animatedly—acting as if they weren’t still within earshot.
Next ti, I’m going to completely ignore them... Michael vowed, not wanting to experience the sa thing on his way back.
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