"You’re right," X said, crossing his arms over his chest. A mischievous grin appeared as he glanced at one of his comrades. "C and I were both students there. The only difference is, she was my junior."
Those words instantly made Mrs. C’s face tighten. The long-haired woman with a cold aura suddenly clutched her head, as if holding back the pain of mories she desperately wanted to erase. "Ugh... I really don’t want to rember that."
A soft, alluring voice followed. Mrs. G, a mature woman with silver-gray hair and a dangerously sweet smile, leaned forward. "Huuh? What is it, C? You look so tornted just from talking about the past."
Mrs. C let out a sharp snort, her tone dripping with irritation. "Seriously... this man," she pointed at X, "was the biggest troublemaker in Starford Academy. A ss of problems, a reckless instigator, always dragging others into his chaos."
Mr. X laughed heartily. "Hahaha! That’s true, I won’t deny it. But that’s exactly what made those days colorful. Beautiful mories, right?" he said provocatively, as if deliberately trying to stir her emotions.
Mrs. C only snorted and looked away.
But Z’s heavy voice soon cut through the spreading nostalgia. "Enough. I didn’t bring you all here to listen to old stories."
The room fell silent at once. Whenever Z spoke, every head turned toward him. His aura of leadership was so absolute that no one dared interrupt.
"Our latest intel," Z continued, "confirms that the fifth artifact is currently in the hands of the Headmistress of Starford Academy, Olivia."
"Hee..." X raised an eyebrow, still relaxed despite the gravity of the subject. "The newbie from Oz, huh?"
"Correct." Z nodded, his tone rigid. "The ’newbie’ you refer to is an exceptionally gifted sorceress. The youngest ever to earn the title Witch of Oz. People call her the White Witch."
X fell silent for a mont, his eyes narrowing. "White Witch, huh..."
"And you may be even more surprised to learn," Z added, "that she is the junior of the Golden Witch, Eleanor."
The scrape of a chair echoed as X leaned back dramatically. "Woo... so that terrifying woman actually has a junior? Hah! This is the first I’ve heard of it." He tried to sound casual, but everyone at the long table knew his reaction wasn’t entirely an act.
X himself had faced Eleanor directly on more than one occasion. Each eting ended badly for him—beaten thoroughly by the woman known as the Golden Witch. Just hearing her na was enough to irritate him, even if he tried to mask it with nonchalance.
Mr. Y, a man with thin spectacles who was usually composed, chid in. His tone carried a faint mockery. "Yes... I still rember. You were completely crushed by that woman, weren’t you, X?"
X clicked his tongue, turning with a look of feigned indifference. "Tch. Anyone can lose at so point. But clearly, her junior won’t be the sa as she is."
Z tapped his finger against the black wooden table. The simple tok sound seed to still everyone’s breath. "Do not underestimate Olivia," he said, his voice heavy yet firm. "She is different. And the artifact is in her hands. This next mission will not be as easy as you imagine."
The room sank into oppressive silence. The dim glow of the large candles cast shifting shadows of their faces on the stone walls, deepening the sense of nace. Every mber waited intently for Z’s next words.
"For this mission," Z continued, his eyes sweeping across each face at the long table, "I will not send anyone alone. We need a far greater strategy—a plan that allows us to strike Starford Academy directly."
Those words prompted one of the mbers, a tall, muscular man nicknad T, to raise his head. "You an... sothing like a terrorist act?" His tone was flat, but there was a clear spark of interest in his eyes.
"Exactly." Z interlaced his fingers, his face still cold. "From the very beginning, we’ve all been aboard a ghost ship. There’s no way this world will ever see us as heroes. So rather than wasting our strength trying to look righteous... it’s better that we sink it all, dragging as much as we can down with us."
No one objected to that statent. Instead, all the mbers simply nodded in silence. They all knew—from the very mont they chose the path of the Sinister Seven—that they had already cast away any moral facade.
Z continued, his tone now heavier. "However, we cannot be reckless. This plan must be precise. Our intel inside the academy is extrely limited, and most of them are nothing more than ordinary infiltrators. They are not top-class fighters. That ans they can be eliminated easily once their cover is blown. We cannot rely on them for sothing this big."
He tapped his finger against the table once more, punctuating every word. "We need an expert. Soone who can infiltrate, blend into academy life, and remain there for an extended period. Soone who can move silently, steal information, and find openings. Only then, when the ti cos, can we launch a full-scale assault."
Several mbers exchanged glances. The idea was both dangerous and ambitious. Sending one of their own to infiltrate ant not only risking their life but also the high possibility of their true identity being exposed.
T raised his hand, his rugged face tense. "Then who are you appointing? I don’t like cat-and-mouse gas like that. It’s not my style."
"Not you." Z glanced briefly at him, then let his gaze sweep across the room. His sharp eyes carried an air of authority, as if weighing every soul seated at the table. "We need soone who can think coldly, skilled in disguise, and at the sa ti master advanced magic. Soone capable of deceiving even the professors of Starford Academy—renowned not only for their strength, but also their intellect."
Mr. X grinned, leaning back casually in his chair as if entirely unaffected by the heavy atmosphere. His lips curved with his usual arrogance. "Oh? Sounds like you’re talking about , Z."
"Not only you." Z cut him off without hesitation, his voice calm yet firm. He had no intention of letting X toy around while everyone else was dead serious.
The eting stiffened again, until a soft but seductive voice broke the silence. With graceful movent, Mrs. G crossed her legs and fixed her eyes on Z. "Hay~, may I recomnd soone?" Her tone was sweet, but laced with cunning.
Z gave a slight nod. "Go ahead."
"What about N?" Mrs. G said, shifting her gaze toward the masked man sitting rigidly at the end of the table.
All eyes turned to Mr. N, the mysterious man who rarely spoke. Even among the Sinister Seven, he was known as cold, silent, and almost never took initiative unless given direct orders.
X clicked his tongue, raising an eyebrow as if mocking the suggestion. "N? Oh, co on. The guy barely speaks unless ordered to. You want him to blend in with academy kids? Hahaha, what kind of joke is that?"
Z did not dismiss it imdiately. He let out a deep breath, then stared directly at N, who remained calm behind his black mask. "What do you think, N? Are you capable of doing it?"
A heavy, monotone voice ca from behind the mask. "I will do whatever you command, my Lord."
X slapped his forehead, half frustrated, half amused. "See? Stiff as a statue! Even when he talks, he sounds like a machine. You really think this guy can pull off a disguise? He’d probably kill people with sheer awkwardness!"
A few of the other mbers suppressed chuckles, though none dared laugh too loudly with Z’s eyes still watching closely.
The leader of the Sinister Seven fell into thought, his fingers tapping slowly on the table. "Hm... true, N has high-level magical skills, but his social interaction... far too lacking. It seems we cannot send him alone. He’ll need a partner. Soone who can cover his weakness."
The room grew tense again as Z swept his gaze across the mbers. "Any volunteers?"
Without hesitation, X shot his hand high into the air, his expression brimming with enthusiasm like a child offered a new ga. "Ooo! How about !? Co on, let join!"
Z closed his eyes briefly, as if holding back a headache caused by X’s antics. "Not you, X. I already have a role prepared for you later, and it is far more important. For now, rest—and stay out of this."
"Boo... you’re no fun!" X pouted, folding his arms and grumbling like a child denied candy.
"Silence." Z’s sharp voice cut through, cold and commanding. "I am not joking. Now... anyone else?"
For several seconds, silence reigned—until a clear woman’s voice broke it. "I can."
Every head turned toward Mrs. L, a striking woman with dark blue hair cascading in waves to her shoulders. She was renowned for her brilliance in strategy and her finesse in playing roles. Her gaze was sharp yet elegant, like a slender sword adorned with gems.
Z raised an eyebrow. "You, L?"
The woman nodded calmly. "Yes. I have studied the academy’s system from afar for quite so ti. I know how they evaluate people, how they admit new students, even how their social network functions. If N is too stiff to blend in, I can be the face that does. He can remain in the shadows, while I handle the outside world."
X whistled softly, his eyes narrowing mischievously. "Oooh, that sounds interesting. If you’re the one going, L, I bet plenty of boys at the academy will be captivated. Maybe even a few professors too."
Mrs. L turned her head toward X with a faint smile—one as cold as a drawn blade. "If necessary, I don’t mind seducing them until they lose themselves. The goal is more important than pride, don’t you agree?"
Her words left several mbers silent. Everyone knew Mrs. L was not only beautiful but also dangerous. Her charm was just another weapon, as deadly as her magic.
Z gave a slow nod, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "Good. L, you will be the face of this infiltration. N will be your partner, operating from the shadows, handling the tasks you cannot do yourself. This way, we maintain balance: one who is fluid, one who is deadly in silence."
N simply nodded, accepting the decision without protest.
Mrs. L smiled calmly, though her eyes glead with ambition. "Understood. I will play this role to the fullest."
"Excellent," Z said at last, his commanding gaze sweeping across the entire table. "Then it’s decided. The infiltration will be carried out by L and N. anwhile, the rest of you will begin preparing the attack routes. Starford Academy is not just a school of magic. It is a fortress of geniuses, backed by the five western kingdoms. If we fail, we may not get a second chance."
The room once again sank into silence. But this ti, everyone understood: the wheel of fate had just been set in motion, and the coming battle would shake the world.
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