CHAPTER~24 THE AFTERTASTE OF SURVIVAL
The silence didn’t break.
It congealed.
The faint crackle of enchanted lamps hummed overhead, too loud now. I could hear my own breathing slow, deliberate and beneath it, something worse.
My pulse.
Eldra didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
Her eyes were darker up close. Not empty deep, like standing at the edge of a well and realizing something was looking back.
The air around her carried a faint pressure, not mana exactly, but intent. Old. Patient. Hungry.
My Sense said one thing
__________________________________________________
{System message}
Host Don't move.
_________________________________________________
For the first time since coming to this academy, my instincts weren’t screaming run.
They were whispering: stay still.
The marble beneath my boots felt cold, grounding. My injured arm throbbed in time with my heartbeat, pain trying failing to pull me back into my body.
Eldra’s tail slowed.
Then Stopped.
A smile touched her lips not wide, not kind. Amused.
Interesting.
Around us, the Elites were statues. Arthur’s knuckles were white against the table’s edge.
Theo had forgotten to smirk. Even Elena’s flame-like presence flickered, heat stuttering for just a fraction of a second.
Then Eldra spoke.
Quietly.
“Sit,” she said.
Not a command.
A suggestion that reality agreed with.
The pressure eased just enough for me to move. I stepped back, the marble cool against my soles, and returned to my seat.
The moment I did, sound rushed back into the room cutlery clinking, a sharp inhale from somewhere down the table.
the low exhale of someone who hadn’t realized they’d been holding their breath.
Eldra lifted her glass.
The liquid inside was dark, reflecting no light.
“Eat,” she said, eyes still on me. “You’ll need the strength.”
Only then did I feel it.
The aftershock.
My hands trembled just slightly.
Not fear.
Aftertaste.
The kind you get when you survive something you weren’t supposed to.
The dinner continued.
On the surface.
Plates were served too refined, too carefully arranged. Food that looked like art and tasted like it had never known hunger. Silverware moved. Glasses were lifted. The academy pretended this was normal.
It wasn’t.
No one spoke to me directly. Not Arthur. Not Theo. Not even Elena. But I felt them anyway glances sliding past, then snapping back when they realized I’d noticed. Curiosity mixed with something sharper. Calculation.
Across the table, Lucan sat straighter than he had any right to, given the state of his body. His face was calm, almost bored, but his knee bounced once under the table. Just once.
A signal.
"You good?"
I nudged my foot lightly against his.
"Still here".
The pressure hadn’t fully left. It lingered like static in the air, crawling over skin. Every time Eldra moved adjusted her glass, shifted her tail the room responded. Postures corrected. Breaths slowed. Even chewing became careful.
She didn’t look at me again.
That was worse.
At some point, I realized something else. The food tasted… muted. Like my body was prioritizing something other than survival. Like part of me was still standing on that marble table, refusing to blink.
The system stayed silent.
No warnings. No rewards.
Just a faint, oppressive awareness at the back of my mind like a page had been turned, and I hadn’t been allowed to read it.
When the final dish was cleared, chairs scraped softly against the floor. The dinner ended not with dismissal, but with permission to leave.
As we stood, I felt it.
A line had been drawn.
Not between Elites and students.
But between before tonight
and everything that came after.
No more pressure. No more tests. Just the slow rhythm of plates being cleared and glasses refilled, as if nothing unusual had happened at all.
Eldra finished her meal, spoke briefly with Selene, and rose from her seat. The doors at the far end of the hall opened for her without a sound.
As she walked away, the weight she carried with her thinned only slightly like a storm retreating just far enough to promise it could return.
Then she stopped.
Halfway through the doorway, Eldra turned.
Her gaze swept the table once. Slowly. Methodically. Each Elite stiffened as if pinned in place, breaths catching one by one.
“I’m watching you all.”
Not loud.
Not threatening.
Certain.
The doors closed behind her.
Only then did the hall remember how to breathe again
I ran outside
The corridors outside the dining hall were cool and dim, the marble floors reflecting soft lamplight.
We hadn’t gone far before Lucan grabbed the back of my collar and yanked me to a halt
.
“What,” he said flatly, “was wrong with you?”
I winced not from the grip, but the tone.
“You climbed a table,”
he continued, measured and furious in the way only restraint could manage. “In front the demon"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Aria stopped ahead of us and turned slowly. Her arms folded, posture sharp, presence pressing in without flaring. Controlled. Dangerous.
“Do you have any idea,” she said, “how many rules you broke in ten seconds?”
“I didn’t think—”
“That,” Lucan cut in, releasing my collar, “is exactly the problem.”
Silence stretched. Heavy. Earned.
“I felt something,” I said finally. “Like if I stayed still, I’d lose something.”
Aria’s eyes narrowed.
“Instinct is not permission.”
Lucan nodded once. “Survival comes first. Curiosity comes after.”
A soft clap echoed behind us.
Iris leaned against the wall, hands in her pockets, smile easy, eyes bright with interest rather than judgment.
“Well,” she said lightly, “on the bright side—”
She tilted her head, studying me like a puzzle.
“You didn’t die.”
She shrugged. “That already puts you ahead of most people who catch her attention.”
No scolding. No warning.
Just amusement and memory.
Lucan exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple.
“Next time,” he said, calmer now, “you hesitate.”
Aria stepped closer, her voice lower.
“And if you must be reckless,” she added, “warn us first.”
Then they turned and walked on.
Iris pushed off the wall last, giving me a sideways glance.
“…Still,” she said. “That was kind of impressive.”
“Nooooo,”
Lucan and Aria said in perfect unison
They were both mad at me.
Which was funny, because it meant I knew exactly what to do.
“You guys would both become excellent parents,” I said, half teasing, half serious.
For a heartbeat,
the words hit. Lucan’s jaw stiffened, and a faint color brushed his cheeks so subtle it could’ve been the hall’s lamplight.
Aria froze mid step, arms crossed, maroon eyes widening just slightly,
a flicker of pink at the edge of her ears. Both of them tried to mask it, tried to return to their usual composed selves,
but the moment lingered longer than any scolding.
I let my gaze slide toward Lucan, catching the tiniest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
I gave him a look.
The One that said, I can’t fix everything for you but I’ve got your back where it counts.
I exhaled quietly, letting the tension roll off my shoulders. For once, it felt like… a tiny victory.
Iris trailed behind, humming softly, far too relaxed for someone who’d just shared a table with a living calamity.
My body finally acknowledged how tired it was. Every step sent a dull ache through my arm, my ribs, my legs.
The kind of exhaustion that settles deep and promises consequences tomorrow.
We stopped at the entrance.
Aria turned.
Her expression was composed again, the Fire Queen mask firmly back in place but her eyes were sharp, unwavering. No warmth. No anger.
Intent.
“Our match isn’t over yet,” she said.
The words landed heavier than any threat.
Lucan glanced between us, saying nothing. Iris’s hum cut off mid-note, her interest sharpening.
I met Aria’s gaze, steady despite the fatigue pulling at me from every direction. There was no hostility there just certainty.
Not revenge.
Not pride.
A promise.
I nodded once.
“Good,” I said quietly.
I reached my bed and let myself fall onto it without ceremony.
Nothing had ever felt like this bed.
The sheets were cool, the mattress soft in a way that swallowed the ache in my bones,
Heaven. That was the only word that fit.
Today had been… good.
I beat Aria.
Luck still hated me but it hated me a little less than before.
I even become little handsome
I closed my eyes, ready to finally sleep.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
NOTICE: MIRACLE DETECTED
Visual appeal increased slightly.
Probability of compliments: Still low
Conclusion:
Yes, you look better.
Previous rating: dog-tier shit
Current rating: approaching cat-tier disappointment
Progress acknowledged.
Celebration denied
Progress acknowledged
I stared at the words for a second, then snorted softly
I closed my eyes, a stupid smile tugging at my lips.
And reminded again.
That Today had been good.
I survived. I won. I pissed off the wrong people.
