Chapter 16: Changes In the Plot
At the sa ti with Aric, as Lucas enters the Apartnt.
Aric Thornheart walked with a purpose, his footsteps echoing in the corridors as he headed towards a destination known only to a select few. The highest floor of the dormitory held a big room where he would et his companions, a group of like-minded individuals who shared his mindset and desires.
As he entered the room, five figures sat scattered around, each occupying their own arrogant space. Laughter filled the air, a raucous symphony of defiance that seed to defy the world itself. Yet, even amidst the mirth, there was a tense undercurrent, a sense that these were not ordinary students.
"Ah, Aric, fashionably late as always."
"Why keep us waiting, man?"
The mockery in their voices was unmistakable as if they were trying to provoke a reaction from the man they addressed. But Aric Thornheart seed unfazed by their taunts, his cold gaze sweeping over each mber of the gathering. He was a storm brewing on the horizon, an epito of arrogance and power that had made its mark throughout the academy.
"Expiration issues, Aric? You usually have that look when sothing's off."
Their banter continued, the students' words tinged with both camaraderie and a hint of fear. But Aric's expression remained unchanged, his silence more nacing than any threat he could utter.
"Speaking of which, isn't there a Duel Weapon user in your class?"
One student dared to venture into a territory of curiosity, his friendly tone a facade that barely masked the tension in the room. Aric's eyes narrowed imperceptibly, his thoughts shifting towards a mory he'd rather forget.
"Heard it sowhere. Doesn't matter."
Aric's curt response brought forth a strained chuckle from the student, a reminder of the thin line they tread when dealing with him.
"Lucas DarkHeart, right? The guy who chose two weapons? What a joke, trying to master both at his pathetic rank."
"First he should master the weapon he is familiar with then he should consider mastering another weapon, anyone knows that. What an idiot he is."
"Yes you are right man, But he sure was pathetic. Why did Idiot co to Nova if he was going to choose 2 weapons did he think he could master 2 of them at the sa ti, he sure is arrogant for the lowest rank ?"
The foul language ca from Hora Breack. Bulky muscles, an intimidating expression, and a large physique. It was clear he was a close-combat specialist, the brawn behind their gathering.
"You know him?"
"I'm in his class, idiot."
Jin Star interjected, questioning Hora Breck's familiarity with Lucas DarkHeart. The conversation continued, voices intertwining as each student shared their perspectives on the matter.
Aric's voice sliced through the noise, his words commanding their attention. His deanour shifted, from indifferent observer to a figure of authority whose words could not be ignored.
"Pointless. Focusing on him will only cost you."
Silence followed his pronouncent, the room held captive by his presence. Hora Breck, who had been ready to unleash his anger on Lucas, fell silent under Aric's gaze.
"If you fight him and win, you'll still lose points. Instead, make his life unbearable within these walls. Instead make his life hard in the academy, If you attacked him then, Nova Academy would expel you, make his life so hard that he which that he should never co here, and Crush his spirit. That's how you truly win."
Aric's words carried a weight that left no room for dissent. A plan was forged in that mont, an unspoken agreent among the gathered students.
"Hahahaha, brilliant! I'll make him regret setting foot here."
The dark laughter that followed was chilling, a testant to the alliance between these students. Revenge was the common thread that bound them together, the promise of inflicting pain and suffering on one individual.
As this pact was ford, Lucas sat in his room, unaware of the shadows that were beginning to gather around him. His excitent over mastering the bow was palpable, his anticipation of the days ahead clouding his perception.
Yet, little did he know that the enigmatic Aric Thornheart had cast his gaze upon him, a predator marking his prey. The storm was brewing, and Lucas was unwittingly caught in its path, a pawn in a ga of power and vengeance.
***
With Lucas.
My new apartnt felt like a palace designed for a single occupant. As I settled onto the plush couch in the drawing room, I couldn't help but wonder what level of opulence the Top 5 cadets enjoyed. The thought intrigued as I examined the smart bracelet that now adorned my wrist.
Manipulating mana was a skill I was beginning to grasp, akin to a rhythmic dance. Drawing from my mana core nestled in my abdon, I directed the energy towards my right hand.
The smart bracelet glowed with a serene azure hue, conjuring a bow into existence before my eyes. The weight of the bow in my grasp surprised ; it wasn't as I had envisioned it, lacking any runes or magical enhancents.
Curiosity piqued, I pondered what it would feel like to release an arrow from this very bow.
"What would it feel like to shoot an arrow from this?" I pondered while touching the bowstring.
I marvelled at the effort required, far more than I'd anticipated.
Tak—!
A loud tak sound resounded in the room when I let go of the string.
"Amazing…" I remarked.
I had never used a bow in my previous life, but I have to learn this if I'm going to survive here.
Yet, this was just the beginning.
My inexperience with bows was evident, unlike Emma and Evelyn who had dedicated their lives to the craft.
Why do you ask I add Evelyn Nightshade with Emma?
Well, when I saw her choosing Bow I knew that she was not a beginner. I don't know if she is on the sa level as Emma but she is not an easy target that's for sure After all she is in the top 10.
I was determined to catch up, not by resorting to the overused trope of acquiring a special item but through my efforts.
However, amidst my musings, the doorbell chid, pulling from my thoughts.
Ding–! Ding–!
-"Nova Academy, year 1 Hero Class, batch 50, academy rank 1001, Lucas Darkheart! Take your parcel!"
A robotic voice followed, announcing my identity and the delivery of a parcel—most likely the belongings I'd left behind at ho.
Look like my parents sending my luggage.
With a sense of nostalgia, I opened the door to find a diminutive humanoid robot holding a box.
Taking the box, I retreated into my apartnt, curious about the contents.
The box revealed familiar items—clothes, necessities, even journals.
They were remnants of my past life, things I hadn't found essential in the face of the academy's challenges.
Amid the mories, I found the journals intriguing. They could potentially fill the gaps in my recollection, offering insights into monts I'd lost.
My mind lingered on one enigma—Evelyn Nightshade. Despite my best efforts, mories of her remained elusive, blocked by an unidentifiable barrier.
There are so gaps in my mories, I also have my childhood mories from when I was 9 or 10 years old But I don't have any mories of Evelyn Nightshade.
Even though I tried to rember it sothing is blocking from rembering what it is. Maybe these journals can help .
Hoping for clues, I reached for the journals. The covers were an unassuming black, a stark contrast to the mysteries they held.
Yet, my attempts to open one proved futile, baffling . I tried with increasing force, but the pages remained stubbornly sealed.
This ti I used my entire strength but still, it did not open.
As you know my strength is [F ] but it did not budge at all.
Then suddenly sothing strange happens.
An astonishing occurrence transpired before —an ethereal ssage materialized in the air as if written by an invisible hand.
"It is not ti to read this, Samuel. Do not open it."
The shock was twofold. Not only had my true na resurfaced, but the ssage itself carried a weight that couldn't be ignored.
Samuel—a na long buried in my past. The cryptic ssage added yet another layer of intrigue to my already enigmatic situation.
The cryptic ssage hung in the air, leaving with a maelstrom of questions. Who was this entity? How did they know my true na? And why was it not the right ti to read the journals? Frustration and curiosity bubbled within , demanding answers.
"What do you an? Who are you, and how do you know my na? What's going on here? And why can't I open the journals?" I blurted out, my impatience evident.
"Easy there, Samuel, or should I say Lucas?" The disembodied voice responded, its tone casual yet laden with a sense of knowing. "What matters is that you're attempting to open the journals before the ti is right."
The lack of direct answers was infuriating. "When will it be the right ti, then?"
"Reach at least [D] rank. At your current level of strength, this world only favours the strong, as you're well aware."
His words stung, though I didn't need him to point out my current weakness.
"Can you at least tell if I'm really in my novel or if this is so kind of dream?"
The pause that followed seed to stretch indefinitely before a hearty laughter echoed in the air—a laughter that felt mocking and yet oddly familiar.
"Hahahahahaha."
The laughter subsided, and once again, words appeared before .
"You are Author Samuel, yet you don't know that? Well, if you believe it's a novel, that's perfectly fine."
His response left perplexed. "What do you an?"
"Nothing significant, but Samuel, I have a question for you."
I braced myself for another twist in this surreal conversation. "Ask away."
"What kind of novel becos famous? As an author, you should have so insights."
The question seed straightforward enough. "An interesting one, I guess, with unexpected twists, morable characters, and maybe an unpredictable ending."
"Right on the money," the voice agreed, the words appearing in the air. "But your current novel lacks that excitent. It's just like so many others out there. Demons attack, the family gets killed, protagonist gets a system, and seeks revenge. It's beco cliché."
His assessnt was like a slap in the face. How could he belittle my work like that? "So, what are you suggesting?"
His response materialized before . "What I want is an exciting and interesting novel. Shake things up, diverge from the mundane. Make the unexpected happen, use your creativity, and alter the plot. That's all."
Silence hung in the air as I processed his words. He was challenging to rewrite my own story, to transcend the boundaries of the ordinary.
As his words remained unaddressed, he wrote again. "I'll be watching, Samuel or Lucas, whichever you prefer. And rember, do not attempt to open that journal. Farewell, and I hope you can show sothing truly engaging."
The words dissipated, leaving a lingering sense of both anticipation and unease.
"An exciting novel, huh?" I muttered, a determined spark igniting within .
"Fine. If that's what you want, I'll show you an unforgettable tale, one that defies expectations. but mark my word whoever you are better hide your well If I catch you one day then you are done for."
With a newfound sense of purpose, I stared at the journals on the table, thoughts racing as I contemplated the intriguing possibilities that lay ahead. Whoever this mysterious entity was, they had thrown down a challenge—one that I intended to et head-on.
As I stood in my apartnt, surrounded by the artefacts of two worlds, I realized that my journey within Nova Academy was far from ordinary. There were depths of knowledge and power waiting to be unravelled, and with each revelation, I felt the threads of destiny tightening around .
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