"Alright, team! One last dance practice before the big night! You in, Aman?"
I closed my book with a soft thud. "I'll pass."
Livia tilted her head, giving me that familiar look of faux disapproval. "Still refusing to learn? You'll be the only one standing against the wall tomorrow."
"I'm comfortable with that," I said, rising from my seat. "I know my strengths, and dancing isn't one of them."
Emilia gave me a flat stare, one brow arching. "You could at least try. It's not that difficult."
"It is when you have no interest in it," I replied evenly. "I'll be fine observing."
Aeron shrugged, ever the cheerful peacekeeper. "Suit yourself. But don't complain when all the girls are taken by the time you get to dance."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take." I nodded, slinging my bag over my shoulder and making my way toward the door. As I said before, I had no intention of dancing.
"Your loss!" Livia called after me, her voice teasing rather than bitter.
I didn't look back, though I could still hear Aeron rallying the others: "Alright, let's go over that tricky turn again…" His voice, along with the others', faded behind me.
The corridors of the academy buzzed with the same electrified atmosphere—students pouring out of their final classes like bees from a kicked hive. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional squeal of excitement echoed against marble walls, all centered around one singular obsession: tomorrow's ball.
I adjusted the strap of my bag as I navigated the crowded hallway, slipping past classmates, juniors, and the hybrid chaos that existed in between.
"Did you hear? Lady Rosaline is going with Sir Cedric!"
"No way! I thought she hated him after the duel last month!"
"Well, hate is just love with sharper edges, isn't it?"
I barely suppressed an eye-roll.
"I spent three months' allowance on this dress—it's imported silk from the Eastern Isles!"
"Pfft, that's nothing. My family commissioned a mageweave gown. It changes color with my mood!"
I tuned them out.
I pity your parents...
They were all typical students.
Worried more about dance cards and dresses than exams, career prospects—or basic survival skills, which was insane, considering this was a world with monsters and magic.
"At least sports would've been fun," I muttered under my breath.
Football, basketball—hell, even dodgeball. Now that would've been entertaining. Imagine a bunch of stiff-backed nobles tripping over their own robes while trying to kick a ball across a muddy field.
But no.
This world's version of "fun" was spinning around in circles, pretending not to step on your partner's toes while exchanging awkward pleasantries.
I was halfway through planning a fantasy sports league in my head when the latest gossip wave hit like a splash of cold water, like they'd been piped directly into my brain.
I blinked, instinctively flinching at the sudden clarity.
Huh.
…Right. The pill.
Ever since that "bath-time nightmare" Virion put me through, my senses had been… different. My body felt stronger, sure, but my senses in particular had sharpened noticeably.
I could pick out whispers from across a crowded room now, like they were being spoken just beside me. The clarity was eerie—like tuning into a private radio channel I wasn't supposed to hear.
Which is why the next conversation hit me long before I reached its source.
"Did you hear the news?"
"No, tell me >-<"
"Alright… the royal family is coming!"
"Woah! Is that true?!"
"Yeah, Prince Eric and Princess Sara—they're attending the ball tomorrow!"
"Oh my, do you think the prince will dance with anyone?!"
"As if! He's probably just here to scout for future knights or something."
"Or maybe… he's looking for a fiancée?" (Cue dreamy sighs.)
I slowed my steps, eyes narrowing.
The Kingdom of Valtheim.
The ruling body that funded and protected this academy in exchange for what was essentially first-pick access to its graduates.
Normally, I wouldn't care.
Politics. Royalty. Titles.
All of it screamed trouble.
But this?
This was beyond suspicious.
A prince and princess dropping in for a random academy ball?
"..."
My spider—ah, sorry. My background character senses are tingling.
"This reeks of cliché," I muttered under my breath.
My brain, because it hates me, immediately began rolling out a list of genre scenarios:
– Assassination Attempt – Because nothing screams drama like masked attackers, poisoned goblets, and royal blood on ballroom floors.
– Monster Attack – What better time for a horde of beasts to break through the barrier than the one night everyone's distracted and wearing impractical footwear?
– Political Intrigue – Secret recruitment, backdoor deals, rebel factions.
– Romantic Scandal – Some girl gets humiliated, prince steps in, declarations are made. Probably in slow motion. Bonus points for glass slippers. Haha.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Please just let it be a normal, boring ball…"
But no. That was too much to ask.
This world thrived on chaos, cringe, cliche, and I hadn't forgotten the carriage ambush or Vivienne's incident.
When the world starts dropping flags like this, something's bound to go wrong.
Shaking my head, I picked up my pace.
If something was about to happen tomorrow, then I needed a contingency.
And there was only one creature on campus capable of turning a disaster into a minor inconvenience.
Virion.
The primordial beast.
And I had just the excuse to rope him in.
I adjusted my pace, weaving through a trio of laughing students blocking the corridor.
Fifteen minutes to the library.
Plenty of time to finalize my plan.
The other day, I helped Virion with Zephyr and Luna's situation. Or more like… manipulated it into solving itself. Honestly, it had gone smoother than I expected.
The plan was simple: bait Zephyr into admitting he had no partner, then offer help nudging him toward Luna.
But the key move was using the new ability.
I'd activated Character Insight right as I dragged Zephyr through the shelves. His "Immediate Goal" had flashed right there in bright text:
"Figure out how to invite Luna to the ball."
Too easy.
From there, it was just a matter of prodding him into action.
I'd tossed a casual invitation at Luna, forcing Zephyr to either speak up or watch someone else take the chance he couldn't. And just like that, the Ice Prince cracked under pressure.
What I didn't expect… was Luna.
Because not even half an hour before, she'd pulled me aside near the history section, eyes blinking and voice trembling—and asked me to help her invite Zephyr.
I almost laughed on the spot.
Two hopeless disasters, both wanting the same thing, both too dense to act.
No—Luna wasn't dense. In fact, compared to Zephyr, she was a whole level braver.
She actually asked for help. While I offered help to Zephyr.
And because they both tried… they got what they wanted.
It was the first step.
So no way I'd let their first ball get ruined by some third-rate assassins or dramatic plot twist.
And neither would Virion. That ancient snake had been way too invested in their romance for him to sit back and watch some nonsense sabotage the payoff.
I'll gaslight him if I have to.
'Your grand love project might collapse, Virion. Their first ball, gone. Do you really want to see Luna crying and Zephyr brooding in a corner because you let some random noble stab someone?'
Yeah, guilt-trip and emotional blackmail.
Always works with immortal guardians who think they're above caring but actually have hearts three sizes too big.
And best part? If Virion got involved, not just Zephyr and Luna's safety would be covered.
The whole academy would be safe.
I would be safe.
My peace would be secure.
Win-win-win.
…Assuming he was even around.
Which was the problem.
In most stories, when things were about to go sideways, the powerful, game-breaking characters always had a habit of disappearing.
Some "ancient call" or "off-screen restriction" or "mysterious emergency" pulling them away just when the protagonist needed them most.
Let's just hope Virion wasn't that kind of character.
Because if trouble really was coming tomorrow, and I didn't have a certain emerald-eyed beast nearby…
…then I'd be forced to do something I really, really didn't want to.
Get involved.
Again.