It was six in the morning, the pale dawn light filtering through Lisa's office windows. Today is the beginning of lectures, and the air carried the crisp anticipation of a new academic term.
I stood near her desk, watching as she sorted through a stack of parchment. The opening ceremony for new students would begin at seven, and as her assistant, my presence was required early. The weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders—unwanted but inevitable.
"Classes start at eight as usual," Lisa said without looking up, her voice as measured as ever. "But as my assistant, you'll need to attend the opening ceremony with me."
"Of course," I replied, suppressing a yawn.
I hadn't wanted to drag myself out of bed before sunrise, but the old adage from that famous superhero movie echoed in my mind: With great power comes great responsibility. A sardonic smile tugged at my lips. Power? Hardly. But influence? Perhaps. Attending these events was a small price to pay for the opportunities they'd bring—another step toward leaning myself into Lisa's trust.
Currently, I was fastening the last pearl button on Hekate's formal gown. The white cat—correction, the Nubecula—tolerated my fussing with regal indifference. Since this is an opening ceremony, the grandmaster of the school has to appear. Nearby, Lisa adjusted her cloak, the silver-threaded hem catching the light as it pooled around her ankles.
"Done," I announced, stepping back to admire my handiwork.
Meow.
Hekate now resembled a feline aristocrat, her snowy fur offset by the dress's delicate lace. The effect was absurd yet undeniably striking. A soft sigh drew my attention—Lisa was struggling with the clasp at her throat, her fingers slipping against the intricate silver fastener.
"Let me help you," I offered.
She stilled as I approached, her reflection in the floor-length mirror watching me with guarded eyes. Even now, after weeks of working alongside her, her beauty was disarming—the sharp line of her jaw, the way her ink-dark hair framed her face like a portrait. Not that I'd ever admit it aloud. Persephone's gaze burned into my back, a silent reminder of other, far more dangerous observations.
Ignoring her, I focused on the clasp. Lisa remained motionless, her breath shallow. The silence between us was neither comfortable nor hostile—just there, like the hum of distant magic. I just maintain a smile on my face.
"All done," I murmured, retreating.
Lisa gave a curt nod and turned to her desk, where a leather-bound file awaited. She flipped it open, scanning the contents.
"You handled everything?"
"Yes. The speech for the ceremony is on the first page, followed by summaries of today's lectures."
I'd stayed up half the night perfecting those documents, cross-referencing curriculum notes and ensuring the phrasing matched Lisa's clipped eloquence. If she noticed the effort, she didn't remark on it—but the slight relaxation of her shoulders told me enough.
+
[ The Existence 'Lisa Hart's' trust in you has increased. ]
[ The affection of 'Lisa Hart' is increasing. ]
[ Affection increased to 15. ]
+
The heart-shaped icon above her shimmered, the number ticking upward. I hadn't engineered this moment—no contrived "accidental" touches or saccharine compliments. Those tactics are beneath me. Literally. I'd seen enough third-rate novels where protagonists tripped into romance like fools.
No, my strategy was simpler: Be indispensable. Let Lisa see that with me, her research advanced faster, her burdens lightened. Affection born from utility was still affection, and far more durable than fleeting infatuation.
"You did well," she said finally.
"Don't mention it. I'm here so you can rely on me."
The word rely lingered between us, deliberately. A seed planted in barren soil, waiting for the right conditions to take root. Lisa's eyes flickered—almost imperceptibly—before she turned toward the door.
I moved to follow, but Hekate wound herself around my ankles, her tail flicking imperiously. With a sigh, I scooped her up, her weight warm against my chest.
"Miss Lisa, wouldn't it seem odd if I walked in holding the headmaster?"
Lisa paused, glancing back. Hekate stared at her, unblinking. A silent conversation passed between them—Nubecula and Avatar, a language of glances and tension. After a moment, Lisa exhaled.
"It will be wired. You will attract a lot of attention to you. But she's insistent."
Of course she is. I adjusted my grip on the cat with an awkward smile, who purred victoriously.
+
[ The Nubecula 'Gumiho' comments, "Do you like cats? Or just the troublesome ones?" ]
+
I ignored the jab, trailing Lisa into the hallway.
***
The murmur of gathered faculty grew louder as we approached the grand hall. Beyond the hall gate, several people could be seen. Everyone was wearing a black cloak with a symbol on the chest area. A magic wand and paintbrush, making a cross symbol, with a sword in the center, and three items were inside a shield-like symbol. It was the symbol of 'Trivia'.
All were wearing neatly dressed fresh cloaks. The Grand Hall was where the Opening ceremony for new students was going to take place.
The hall was filled with students, who were sitting on chairs, and there was a huge platform, where a mic was placed.
Outside the hallway, all the faculty of the school were present. Lisa is also standing among them, and I am standing behind her.
After reaching outside the hallway, I asked Hekate to go in front, the white cat was just the outer appearance, she is originally an intelligent existence, so she understood me.
Since she is the headmaster of the school, she will be entering the hallway first and all the rest will be following behind her.
So right now I was just one of the faculty among others.
It was better this way, I don't want attention from lower existences anyway. I am just planning on following Lisa, she will attract all the attention while I can just be in the background.
"Good morning, Professor Yates. A pleasure, as always."
A voice was heard as I was standing among the crowd. I looked past Lisa, and a man, with a handsome face and blonde hair was standing in front of her. I recognized him.
I'd know this two-faced nuisance anywhere. I activated Prescient Description.
+
[ The Active Skill 'Prescient Description' is activated. ]
+
[ Name: Eddie Sherman
Age: 70
Blessing: None
Active Attribute: The One Who Hides (General)
Active Skills: Two-Face Lvl.3, Entice Lvl.2, Mana Manifestation Lvl.3
Passive Skills: Fake-Disguise Lvl.2, Creeper Lvl.2, Patience Lvl.1, Smooth-Talking Lvl.2
Overall Stats: Strength Lvl 51, Stamina Lvl 53, Agility Lvl 51, Magic Power Lvl 48
Description: A duplicitous man who masks his true nature. Though unremarkable in skill, he stubbornly pursues magic. ]
+
The man standing before Lisa is Eddie Sherman. True to his profile, he is the very definition of two-faced. His outward demeanor radiated approachability, that carefully cultivated charm many.
I understood why they adored him. He is someone who does not have an ounce of magic talent, but he shows a great passion for magic. That is the reason many students admired him, most students are like him, with no talent but a dream. Most students saw themselves reflected in him—ordinary dreamers clinging to scraps of hope. The academy was full of such wide-eyed mediocrity.
That is how it is always been. Only a few outshine the crowd.
I knew that feeling all too well. I'd once been that person too: talentless but stubborn. But where my struggle had been genuine, Eddie's was a pantomime. He didn't burn for magic—he burned for comfort, for shortcuts. And this current act? Designed for one audience member alone: Lisa.
He is one of the few who knows about Lisa's 'real' identity.
My fingers twitched at the memory—visions of him trailing her through candlelit corridors, noting which treatises she pulled from the library shelves. A stalker wearing scholar's robes. Now he stood before us, smiling beatifically like some patron saint of the untalented. Which made his smile disgusting to me.
I forced my gaze away, letting it skate across the assembled faculty as if searching for someone. The last thing I wanted was to register on his radar. Still, the weight of inevitability pressed down—our paths would cross eventually. Just not today. Not if I could help it.
"Yes. It's been a while."
Lisa's voice could've flash-frozen a volcano. I didn't need to see her face to know her expression—that particular blankness she reserved for persistent nuisances. Eddie's smile didn't falter. He'd expected this; perhaps even relished the challenge.
"You're always immersed in your research, Professor Yates." His tone dripped with false intimacy, like a neglected husband chiding his wife at some noble's dinner party. "I'm glad you could grace us with your presence today."
Ah... there is that tone again. It was quite annoying. Disgusting. The way he said "grace us"—as if he had any right to speak for the institution.
Lisa didn't so much as blink. Her silence was a masterclass in dismissal, so absolute it bordered on artistic. Eddie's smile remained, but the tightening around his eyes betrayed him. This was their tired dance: his advances met with her glacial indifference.
Huuuuu—
A sudden gust ripped through the hall, scattering loose parchment. Faculty robes billowed as a white-cloaked figure materialized mid-stride. The murmuring crowd stilled, shoulders squaring in reflexive respect.
"Good morning, Acting Headmaster."
"Welcome, sir."
"Good morning, Sir. Now we may begin."
Eldrich II-hung cut an imposing figure despite his earthlike appearance—a man who looked forty by terrestrial standards but carried more than a century. With Hekate perpetually limited to feline form, the mantle of leadership fell to him, and he wore it with the ease of someone accustomed to power.
The faculty reshuffled like chess pieces maneuvering for advantage. Eddie slithered to the front ranks, positioning himself just behind Eldrich's left shoulder. I suppressed a sigh. Of course. He never gets tired of it.
Lisa's head tilted slightly at the sound. Misreading my reaction, she murmured under her breath, "You have a good judge of a character."
"Huh?"
"You were trying to avoid him right? "
Ice trickled down my spine. I'd been careful in my pretended disinterest. Yet she'd noticed. A small mercy that Eddie remained oblivious.
"He gives off... unsettling energy."
Her fractional nod confirmed she'd sensed it too. Women have frightening abilities when comes to these things. Was it women's intuition? Or had his damnable "Creeper" skill leaked through his facade?
"No, that's not it, Miss Lisa."
Even though I don't like him, I can not openly admit that—not with the walls themselves listening. Lisa's gaze remained impassive as I shifted smoothly:
"I was simply overwhelmed. Standing near Trivia's most beloved professor is... intimidating. It made me nervous. "
A few nearby faculty members nodded absently, their attention already drifting. Of course they'd been watching—the new hire accompanying Professor Yates was bound to draw speculative glances.
Lisa's chin dipped a millimeter. It was like she was saying 'Wise choice of words'. She is cold and pretended not to care, but she was not aloof.
Trrrrrp—Thruuuupp!
The trumpet's blare shattered the moment, its brassy cry echoing off the vaulted ceilings. A voice boomed from within the hall:
"All students, take your seats! The opening ceremony commences now!"
The scrape of a hundred chairs, the rustle of robes—the sound of an institution stirring to life. My pulse thrummed in time with the marching footsteps.
"Let the ceremony begin."