"Next on the agenda..."
The meeting went about as uneventfully as I expected.
It was one of those formal gatherings where the student council reviewed recent incidents and updates—follow-ups on the magical outburst during the entrance ceremony, reports on the attempted kidnapping of an academy student, that sort of thing.
The papers handed out to us summarized everything in neat little columns of numbers and facts—an entire week’s worth of chaos reduced to statistics.
"Excuse me," someone said from the back.
The presenter, a nervous-looking student with trembling hands, glanced up. "Y-yes? What is it?"
"There’s missing data on the right side here," the student council president said calmly.
"Ah! I’ll correct that right away!"
"Please make sure to double-check your materials next time."
"I-I’m sorry!"
The room went silent.
The presenter’s voice faltered under the weight of the president’s sharp tone. A heavy tension filled the air, and the once-curious expressions of the first-year representatives turned stiff.
Making a mistake in your first meeting—it was bad enough on its own. But something about this felt off.
’Was that really an accident?’
No way.
The president—no, the princess—was far too meticulous to let something like that slip by unnoticed. She must have seen it beforehand. Which meant...
’She did that on purpose.’
How childish.
She’d probably let that mistake slide through intentionally—just to create pressure, to remind everyone of who held authority in this room. A little performance to intimidate the newcomers.
And the poor presenter? Just an unfortunate casualty in her power play.
"This concludes our meeting," the princess said, her voice perfectly calm.
As soon as she stood, the tension broke like glass. Students exhaled softly, as if they’d been holding their breath the entire time.
"Phew... that atmosphere was intense," one of the first-years whispered.
"I know," another replied. "I didn’t think student council meetings would feel like a battlefield."
I leaned back in my chair, suppressing a small sigh.
After the meeting ended, the heavy atmosphere that had filled the room seemed to linger in the air.
Elena, who had been sitting stiffly the whole time, finally let out a long sigh and slumped back into her chair, her shoulders relaxing for the first time that day.
I, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as affected. I already knew the tension in the room had been deliberate—staged, even. But Elena clearly hadn’t caught on.
"I wonder if I’ll be able to do well moving forward..." she murmured, worry creasing her brow.
"Today was tense because it was everyone’s first day," I said, leaning back slightly. "It’ll get easier once we get used to it."
"...Hehe. I hope so."
Her soft laugh broke the lingering stiffness, and the smile that followed was enough to lift the mood around us.
I glanced at her for a brief moment before turning my gaze toward the window. The afternoon sunlight was spilling through, painting the sky in a calm shade of blue.
’Come to think of it... when was the next episode supposed to happen again?’
The story had already veered far off its original path. Events that should have never happened had taken place, and others had vanished entirely.
Still, there was a pattern to these things. Even if the smaller details changed, the core events—the major episodes—tended to find their way back into motion.
Elena’s kidnapping had proved that much. Despite all the differences, it had still happened, just in another form.
So maybe, just maybe, the next big event was already on the horizon.
’I should probably check...’
I didn’t know the exact timing anymore. The only clue I had was that it was supposed to occur sometime after Ed joined the disciplinary committee.
Which meant... it couldn’t be that far away.
"Shall we go?" I asked, pushing myself up from the chair.
"Yes!" Elena replied, standing quickly, her usual energy returning.
As the rest of the students filed out of the hall, chatting quietly among themselves, I followed beside her—my expression calm, but my mind already turning over possibilities of what might come next.
-----
Monster Attack Incident.
That’s what the next big event was called.
It would happen not long after Edmund joined the disciplinary committee — a large-scale monster attack right inside the academy grounds.
The cause? A crack in the academy’s protective barrier.
Once the barrier weakened, monsters began slipping through one after another until the walls completely gave way. The once peaceful academy turned into chaos.
Back when I read the story, I hadn’t thought too deeply about it.
I just accepted it as another dramatic twist in the comic.
But now that I was living it... things didn’t quite add up.
Even if the barrier had weakened — where had those monsters come from all of a sudden?
And more importantly, why did they all head straight for the academy?
It wasn’t like monsters had some built-in GPS for "schools full of kids." Something about it didn’t make sense.
Following my memory, I made my way to the spot where the incident was supposed to start.
"Hmm... nothing seems wrong," I muttered, scanning the surroundings.
The barrier looked perfectly normal to me — an invisible wall of magic that shimmered faintly under the sunlight. No flickering, no cracks, no ominous hums.
In the comic, a tiny fracture had appeared first — a hairline crack that spread like a spiderweb until the entire wall shattered in one explosive moment.
But right now, the wall, easily two meters thick, was as stable as ever.
"Not yet, huh?" I murmured under my breath.
That was the only explanation.
The event hadn’t been triggered yet.
I’d expected at least some kind of magical residue or a faint distortion in the air — something. But there was nothing. It looked completely normal.
Maybe I’d come too early.
I sighed and turned to head back, planning to check again later.
Rustle.
"...?"
I froze.
That sound didn’t belong to the wind.
My hand instinctively went to my sword as I turned toward the noise.
The bushes near the outer barrier trembled ever so slightly — once, twice — as if something was crouched behind them, waiting.
The air suddenly felt heavier.
’Don’t tell me...’
What was that?
I froze mid-step, my ears catching a faint noise carried by the wind.
Rustle, rustle—
There it was again.
"...!"
This time, I was sure of it.
The sound came from the bushes a short distance ahead.
A suspicious presence lingered there—subtle, but definitely alive.
I held my breath and moved cautiously, my footsteps light against the grass. The air felt tense, heavy with quiet anticipation.
Step by step, I closed the distance.
The rustling stopped.
For a moment, the only sound was the soft beating of my own heart.
Then, through the leaves, I caught a glimpse of movement.
Someone was crouched there—a girl in the academy’s uniform, her back turned to me as if she was trying to hide.
Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the faint light that filtered through the trees.
I tilted my head slightly.
Wait... that hair color, that posture—
"...No way," I murmured under my breath.
Now that I could see her more clearly, recognition struck.
She looked familiar. Very familiar. H