"Dear assistants, allow to guide you to the first area."
After separating from Kai, Olivia spoke in the ridian language professionally, while looking at the trio of siblings without daring in the slightest to look down on them just because they were re Initiate-levels. After all, they were the assistants of the direct disciple Erik, who was not only the disciple of two Master-levels. He was also widely known in the Arcane Order and much of the galaxy as a talent on par with Master Eldurdóttir.
On the other hand, perhaps even more importantly depending on one's perspective, the direct disciple Erik was almost a celebrity among the university staff. Since, unlike ordinary disciples, he was very kind and considerate toward the staff, especially the library staff, as it was the place where he spent the most ti.
He was so popular that it was not uncommon for fierce "internal quarrels" to break out to decide who would get the shifts he most frequently visited. It was even not unusual for "high-level personnel" to "lower themselves" to public-facing positions just for the chance to interact with him. Consequently, the path for Olivia to secure her position in the station's library was paved with hundreds of her colleagues' "corpses".
Although at first, the "selection war", the na they gave to their dispute to earn the chance to serve the direct disciple Erik, was sothing in which only the female staff participated. That changed when the "stinky n" took an interest in the affectionate nickna the won used for him—"the cookie prince". As soon as they learned of that sweet moniker, they also discovered the great treasure that was being able to interact with him.
Although the direct disciple Erik was kind, considerate, very handso, and nearly at the top of the Arcane Order's food chain. Only a few won among the administrative staff had illusions of having anything with him beyond a single night or, at best, being a secret lover. In reality, much of their urgency to interact with him stemd from those "simple cookies" he used to give away.
The cookies that disciple Erik occasionally handed out when he was satisfied with the service he received were not only a heavenly delight. They were also made with rare, extrely nutritious ingredients loaded with mana, things an ordinary person could hardly acquire, which turned them into a powerful tonic for training.
When the male staff found out about this, they ended up ddling in the sacred "selection war", managing to outdo the won a couple of tis and enjoy the coveted prize themselves, spreading the word afterward. But not content with that, they even dared to give him the ugly nickna of "the cookie general", sothing that infuriated the female staff so much that they would even strike anyone who dared to ntion that nickna in front of them.
...
With great professionalism, Olivia guided the siblings to the first area of the library, where she introduced them to the different sections and explained a bit about what they could find in each. She also showed them how to choose books in the language they preferred, since the books in the first area were very basic and practically all had translations into the four main languages. As a result, the siblings began browsing the titles and so pages of the books on the shelves, searching for sothing to read.
While the siblings chose their books, Olivia couldn't help but discreetly observe their selections, genuinely curious about which topics would interest the first people who had managed to co under the wing of the great direct disciple Erik. Who was, without a doubt, the most outstanding figure of his generation, despite being one of the youngest—he hadn't even lived a full century, which practically made him a baby.
Regarding the twins—whose beauty and extre resemblance, even Olivia couldn't help but admire—they selected different things. The one with slightly more wavy hair and a homier aura picked books on basic alchemy and cooking, while the other, with straighter hair and a firr, sohow more "heroic" aura, picked books on artificery and, surprisingly, business.
Lastly, the youngest boy, who was also quite handso though still rather young, chose books on history and geography, along with several dictionaries of the four languages, and, sowhat unexpectedly, a book on unard martial arts.
"With these, we should be fine, Miss Olivia."
After a while, the siblings finished selecting their books. At that mont, Clara stood in front of Olivia and spoke in a calm, polite tone, to which Olivia responded with a small smile, casually eyeing the small piles of four or five books each sibling held in their hands.
"In that case, we will head to the private room of the direct disciple Erik."
After a nod from the siblings, Olivia led them to the private room, walking at the head of the group through the seemingly endless rows of bookshelves until they reached one of the walls where a glass elevator could be seen. The elevator took them down a couple of floors, where they arrived at a wide, beautiful hallway with marble floors and white wooden doors on both sides.
As they walked down the hallway, with the siblings curiously looking at the various paintings and works of art that adorned it, one of the elegant wooden doors suddenly swung open. This produced a small muffled sound that inevitably drew the siblings' attention.
From the private room, a group of six young people erged, led by a man who appeared to be about twenty years old, with short, modern pale-orange hair and brown eyes, and an athletic, muscular build. Although he could not be considered especially handso in general, his confident and dominant bearing gave him a certain appealing charm.
After a quick glance at them, Olivia and the siblings continued walking without paying the group any further attention, as the hallway was wide enough for everyone to pass by comfortably without feeling cramped in the slightest. However, at that mont, the young man leading the other group caught sight of the twins, his eyes lit up, while an expression of interest inevitably took shape on his face.
The twins' beauty was undoubtedly srizing, but there was sothing mysteriously captivating when the two of them were together that seed to multiply their charm manyfold, easily bewitching the young man. He imdiately began examining their attire closely, which soon made him smile with confidence.
The trio of young people behind the librarian wore the most basic assistant uniforms, without any emblems or insignias, which in the eyes of any university resident could an only one thing: they were newcors or interns who had not yet been assigned their duties—in other words, the lowest rung of the university's social ladder.
Initially, the siblings should have been wearing the emblem of Sigrún or Eleonora on their clothing, and at first, they did, since those two were the ones who gave them their uniforms. However, because of the small argunt they had with Erik on the ship, they, with Seraphina's help, had prepared new uniforms without any emblem to show their willingness to improve. Their main goal was for Erik to be able to make their new uniforms once he registered his own personal emblem, sothing that had to be done at the university.
Brimming with confidence, the orange-haired young man approached the twins with a firm stride, wearing a calm, self-assured smile that bore a hint of flirtation. Upon reaching them, he spoke politely, though clearly in a domineering and self-important manner, secretly fascinated by those blue eyes that studied him with curiosity.
"Hello, young ladies. My na is Edward Stone, a disciple of the Order, and I feel that eting such beautiful ladies could only be the work of fate. So, I'd like to ask: why don't we go have a drink to get to know each other better?"
Upon hearing the young man's speech in the galactic language, Sofia and Clara glanced at each other in confusion. They had barely understood any of what he said, so they turned to Martín, the most skilled in languages, but he also shook his head. He hadn't understood it either—after all, the young man had used a flowery and pretentious vocabulary, sothing they hadn't yet encountered.
"We... sorry... no understand."
Since none of them knew what he had said, and it was a bit awkward to see the young man's confident grin awaiting their response. Sofía spoke in a halting manner, with a heavy accent typical of natives of the ridian Federation, her discomfort was visible on her lovely face, which only broadened the young man's smile even more.
"Oh, so you're from the ridian Federation. My apologies. My na is Edward Stone, disciple of the Order, and I was asking if you'd like to go have a drink with . It's rare to see such beautiful young won, and I feel it must be fate that we've run into each other, so I'd love to get to know you better."
He had spoken in perfect ridian, which surprised the siblings a bit, as his accent was indistinguishable from that of a native like them—though to be fair, their boss and his masters were the sa way. Sofía quickly responded with a slight formal bow, speaking politely, one of the few things she had learned during a series of improvised lessons with her boss's maid.
"We are flattered, Disciple Stone, but we must decline. We are on our way to et with our lord, so it will not be possible."
Following her Boss's advice, Sofía tried to sound courteous but not servile as she refused, then attempted to continue on her way, giving Olivia a couple of discreet signals to move on. Olivia imdiately nodded and tried to proceed, but at that mont, the young man stepped forward, preventing the siblings from going any farther.
"There's no need to refuse like that. I'm sure your 'lord' wouldn't mind if he knew you went to have a drink with —Edward Stone."
Edward spoke in a way that, in his mind, was dominant and brimming with confidence, placing particular emphasis on his na. Yet to the siblings, he simply sounded like soone foolishly arrogant—a far cry from their Boss, who didn't need such theatrics to make it clear, in a subtle and elegant manner, that he was above everyone else.
"We truly must apologize, Disciple Stone, but we're certain that's not the case. And I hope you won't block our way like this—our lord is waiting for us."
Sofía replied swiftly in a tone that was formal yet firm, looking Edward squarely in the eyes. Her words soured the young man's expression greatly, prompting him to speak more crudely.
"Hmph, don't be so arrogant just because you managed to climb into the lap of so random disciple. That guy will hand you over to without hesitation the mont he finds out I have any interest in you, so you'd better co along before my good mood runs out and things get ugly."
Genuinely offended, Edward spoke with certainty that these young won had only dared to refuse him because they were under the protection of so disciple like himself, sothing that did not concern him in the slightest. After all, most disciples were small fries he could easily handle, and the only ones who could restrain him might be the direct disciples—who would never show up on behalf of a trio of Initiate-levels. And even if they did, he wouldn't necessarily lose.
After all, he was a genius who had reached the Revealed-Novice level before turning three hundred years old—an uncommon feat and a true source of pride. Moreover, he had stood out impressively in the selection tournant, and to top it all off, he was about to rise in the hierarchy thanks to his respected master, so no one could oppose him at that mont.
"I do not believe that is the case, Disciple Stone. And even if it were, that is for our lord to decide, not us. So I hope you will excuse us, but we must go et with him."
Paying no heed to the arrogant young man's self-satisfied expression, Sofía spoke in a sharp, firm tone, although she was truly surprised there were people like him in the Arcane Order—the paradise of opportunity and security she had always dread of. She was realizing that idiots existed, no matter where you went.
anwhile, Sofía's words made a vein pop in Edward's forehead. After snorting in irritation, he pointed at the twins with his hand and then ordered one of his followers with a tone full of arrogance and disdain.
"Grab them!"
***
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