POV: Priam Lockhart
The orientation hall for Arcane Combat & Theoretical Magic was located in the academy's oldest tower—a structure that predated the main buildings by at least a century. The stones were dark with age, covered in crawling vines that seemed to move even without wind, and the windows were narrow slits that let in minimal light.
Creepy. Appropriately creepy for dark magic studies.
Inside, the hall was circular, with tiered seating descending toward a central demonstration platform. Enchanted torches provided flickering illumination that cast dancing shadows across the walls. Strange symbols were carved into every surface—protective wards, probably, or maybe something more sinister.
About thirty students had been assigned to this track, and most were already seated. I recognized several from the opening ceremony:
A tall boy with platinum blonde hair and ice-blue eyes, wearing House Frost's crest. He sat alone, radiating an aura of cold that made nearby students shift away uncomfortably.
Twin girls with identical features—crimson hair, golden eyes, delicate features—both wearing House Vermillion's crest. They whispered to each other constantly, occasionally giggling in a way that seemed more threatening than amused.
A stocky young man with dark skin and tribal tattoos visible on his arms. He wore no house crest, suggesting either foreign nobility or a very minor family. His eyes tracked everything with predatory focus.
And others, all carrying the weight of families who specialized in combat magic, dark arts, or forbidden studies.
Seraphine chose a seat in the second row—close enough to show confidence, far enough back to observe without being the immediate center of attention. I stood behind her, as proper for a servant.
"Lockhart." Her voice was barely a whisper. "That one. The boy with tattoos. What do you observe?"
I studied him carefully, my [Observation] skill activating automatically.
Posture: Alert, never relaxed. Hands: Callused from weapon use. Eyes: Constantly scanning exits. Breathing: Controlled, trained. Assessment: Military background, possibly mercenary. Comfortable with violence. Potentially dangerous.
"Military training," I murmured back. "Not noble-born, likely earned his spot through combat achievements. Watch for practical rather than theoretical approaches."
Seraphine nodded slightly. "Good. The twins?"
Twins: Synchronized movements, shared glances, finishing each other's thoughts. Body language: Confident but defensive of each other. Jewelry: Matching pendants that glow faintly—magical focus items. Assessment: Combined magic users. Stronger together than apart.
"They work as a unit," I whispered. "Their magic is probably synchronized or complementary. Separating them would be key in combat."
Another slight nod. "You have a good eye."
Before I could respond, the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
The enchanted torches flickered and turned black, casting shadows that seemed darker than the absence of light should allow. The carved symbols on the walls began to glow with sickly purple radiance.
And Professor Nyx entered.
She didn't walk—she manifested. One moment the demonstration platform was empty; the next, she stood there as if she'd always existed.
Professor Nyx was... difficult to describe. She appeared to be in her forties, though with magic users, age was meaningless. Her skin was pale as moonlight, her hair a cascade of midnight black that moved with a life of its own. Her eyes were pure silver—no iris, no pupil, just liquid mercury that seemed to see through flesh to the soul beneath.
She wore robes of deep purple so dark they were nearly black, embroidered with constellations that slowly rotated across the fabric.
But what struck me most was her presence. Standing before her felt like standing at the edge of an abyss—one wrong step and you'd fall forever.
[System Alert: High-Level NPC Detected]
Professor Nyx - Level ???
Threat Assessment: EXTREME
Warning: This entity can kill you with a thought
Thanks for the confidence boost, system.
"Welcome," Nyx said, her voice soft but carrying to every corner of the hall. "To those who have been assigned to my care. I use the word 'care' loosely. I am not your mother. I am not your friend. I am the person who will either make you powerful or watch you destroy yourselves trying."
She moved across the platform, each step absolutely silent. "This track focuses on combat magic and theoretical applications of advanced arcane principles. But more importantly, it teaches you what the Empire considers... uncomfortable truths."
Nyx's silver eyes swept across the students. "Magic is not inherently good or evil. It is a tool, a force, a fundamental aspect of reality. What you do with it determines whether you're a hero or a monster. And sometimes"—she smiled, revealing teeth that seemed slightly too sharp—"the difference is purely a matter of perspective."
Several students shifted uncomfortably.
"You have been assigned here for various reasons," Nyx continued. "Some because your family specializes in combat. Some because you have aptitudes the academy wishes to cultivate. And some"—her eyes landed on Seraphine—"because people fear what you might become if left untrained."
Seraphine's expression didn't change, but I felt her tension increase.
"Over the next year, you will learn offensive magic, defensive magic, counterspells, magical theory, and practical application in combat scenarios." Nyx gestured, and holographic images appeared in the air: mages dueling, battlefields wreathed in magical fire, ancient texts covered in incomprehensible symbols.
"But first, a demonstration of what you're working toward."
Nyx raised one hand, fingers spread. Dark energy coalesced around her palm—shadows given substance, writhing and alive.
"This is Void magic," she explained. "The manipulation of absence. Not darkness, not shadow, but the fundamental concept of nothing." She gestured, and the sphere of void expanded, engulfing one of the holographic images. The image didn't disappear—it ceased to exist, as if it had never been.
"Void magic is forbidden in combat without special authorization," Nyx said. "Because it doesn't destroy—it erases. There is no defense, no healing, no resurrection. What Void touches is simply... gone."
That's not in the game. The game had dark magic, shadow magic, death magic—but nothing like this.
"You will not learn Void magic," Nyx continued, dismissing the sphere. "Not this year, possibly not ever. But you will learn principles that approach it. Theoretical frameworks that could, with enough skill and absolutely terrible judgment, be applied to such techniques."
She smiled again. "The Empire trusts that you'll use such knowledge responsibly. I, personally, have no such illusions."
Nyx clapped her hands once, and the room's atmosphere shifted back to normal. The torches returned to regular flames, the temperature rose, the oppressive presence lifted.
"Now, introductions. Stand when called and state your name, house, and primary magical affinity."
She consulted a floating scroll. "Seraphine de Valois."
Seraphine stood, her posture perfect. "Seraphine de Valois, House Valois. Shadow and Blood magic."
Blood magic. She never mentioned that.
Nyx's expression showed interest. "Blood magic. Hereditary or acquired?"
"Hereditary. The Valois bloodline."
"Fascinating. Your family's pact magic, I assume. We'll explore that further in private sessions." Nyx made a note on her scroll. "Sit."
Seraphine sat, and I caught the briefest flicker of relief in her eyes.
She was terrified. She hid it perfectly, but she was scared of what Nyx might ask.
The introductions continued:
Lucius Frost - Ice magic so powerful he'd once accidentally frozen an entire lake solid.
Vera and Vivian Vermillion - Fire twins who could combine their flames into something they called "Crimson Inferno."
Malik Nasir - The tattooed warrior. Lightning magic, learned from the Storm Tribes of the southern desert before he'd joined the Empire's military.
And others, each with their own specialties and stories.
When the introductions finished, Nyx said, "Classes begin tomorrow. You will attend standard lectures in the morning and specialized combat training in the afternoon. Textbooks and supplies will be delivered to your dormitories by this evening."
She paused, her silver eyes sweeping across the group one final time. "One last thing. This track has the highest casualty rate in the academy. Not from the curriculum—from students who overestimate their abilities and attempt magic beyond their capacity. Do not be stupid. Do not experiment without supervision. And do not"—her voice dropped to something deadly—"use your magic to harm fellow students outside sanctioned duels."
She snapped her fingers, and the scroll burst into purple flames. "Dismissed."
Students filed out quickly, eager to escape Nyx's presence. Seraphine remained seated until most had left, then rose gracefully.
As we moved toward the exit, Nyx called out: "Lady Valois. A moment."
Seraphine's jaw tightened, but she turned back. "Professor?"
Nyx descended from the platform, moving with that eerie silence. Up close, her otherworldly nature was even more apparent. Her skin seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, and her hair moved in directions that didn't correspond to any breeze.
"Your blood magic," Nyx said softly. "The Valois pact. How much do you know about its origins?"
"Enough," Seraphine said carefully.
"Hm. I doubt that." Nyx circled her slowly, studying. "The pact your ancestor made two centuries ago. With an entity from beyond the Veil. The entity granted power in exchange for... something. What was it?"
"That knowledge is restricted to direct family members."
"Of course it is." Nyx's smile was knowing. "But you feel it, don't you? The weight of the debt. The price that must be paid, generation after generation."
Seraphine's hands clenched. "I don't know what you're implying."
"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating facts." Nyx stopped in front of her. "Your family's magic is borrowed power. Eventually, the entity that granted it will demand payment. And when that day comes, you'll need to decide whether to pay... or fight."
"Is there a point to this, Professor?"
Nyx studied her for a moment longer, then stepped back. "Just a warning. The shadows you command are not yours. Remember that, when they start whispering."
She turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and your butler. Lockhart, was it?"
My blood ran cold. "Yes, Professor?"
Those silver eyes fixed on me, and I felt naked—every secret, every thought, exposed to her gaze.
"You have magic," Nyx said calmly.
Seraphine's head whipped toward me. "What?"
"Latent, untrained, probably unaware of it until this moment," Nyx continued. "But it's there. Weak currently, but with potential." She tilted her head. "How curious. A servant with magical aptitude. That's... unusual."
My mind raced. The system. Is this because of the system, or did the original Priam have this potential?
[System Notification]
[Hidden Ability Discovered: Latent Magic]
[You possess magical potential that has gone unrecognized]
[Quest Available: "Awakening"]
[Accept? Y/N]
"That's impossible," Seraphine said. "Servants are tested. If he had magic, it would have been detected."
"Unless someone didn't want it detected," Nyx said. "Or unless it awakened recently due to... traumatic circumstances." Her gaze lingered on me. "Have you experienced any trauma recently, Lockhart?"
Dying and having my soul transplanted into another body counts, right?
"I... was punished, Professor. Whipping. Three days ago."
"Ah. Near-death experience. That can trigger latent abilities." Nyx made a gesture, and a small crystal appeared in her hand. "Take this. It's a basic magical focus. Tonight, before sleep, hold it and try to feel your internal energy—your mana. If you can sense it, you have potential worth developing."
She pressed the crystal into my palm. It was warm, pulsing with a subtle rhythm.
"Why are you helping a servant?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Nyx's smile was enigmatic. "Because talent wasted is offensive to me. And because I'm curious what will happen." She turned back to Seraphine. "You may want to keep a close eye on him, Lady Valois. A servant with magic is either a valuable asset or a dangerous liability. Which he becomes depends on how you handle him."
She vanished—not walked away, just ceased to be there.
Silence filled the hall.
Seraphine turned to me slowly. "Is it true? Do you have magic?"
"I don't know, my lady. I've never felt anything."
"Try. Now."
"My lady, I don't know how—"
"Try."
I closed my eyes, holding the crystal Nyx had given me. I focused inward, trying to sense... something. Anything.
At first, nothing. Just my heartbeat, my breathing, the ambient sounds of the academy.
Then—
A spark. Deep in my chest, where the strange tingling had been since I'd arrived in this world. A tiny flame of energy, barely perceptible but definitely there.
My eyes snapped open. "I felt something. Small, but real."
Seraphine stared at me, her expression unreadable. Then she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the exit. "Come. We need to discuss this in private."
"My lady—"
"Quiet."
We left the tower, moving through corridors at a pace just short of running. Other students watched curiously as we passed, but no one dared approach Seraphine when she looked this focused.
We returned to her suite and she slammed the door behind us, activating privacy wards with a gesture. Purple light flared around the room's perimeter, sealing us in.
"Explain," Seraphine demanded. "Everything. When did this start? Have you experienced any magical phenomena? Unexplained events? Visions?"
I can't tell her about the system. Or the reincarnation. Or the game. Think, Priam. Give her something true without revealing everything.
"Three days ago," I said carefully. "After the whipping. I woke up and everything felt... different. Sharper. Like I could see details I'd missed before. And there's been this sensation in my chest—warm, electric. I thought it was just trauma or fever."
"Show me your status crystal."
"My what?"
"Don't play games with me." Seraphine pulled a small device from her desk—a brass compass with a crystal center. "Every person in Erathia has a magical signature. This device reads it. Put your hand on the crystal."
I obeyed, placing my palm against the cool surface.
The crystal glowed—faintly at first, then brighter. Colors swirled within: blue, silver, hints of gold.
Seraphine's eyes widened. "That's... you have three affinities. Blue for mental magic, silver for neutral mana, and gold for..."
"For what?"
"I don't know. Gold isn't a standard affinity." She pulled back, pacing. "This is a problem."
"Why is it a problem that I might have magic?"
She whirled on me. "Because servants with magic either become slaves to nobles who exploit them, or they're killed to prevent rebellion! The Empire has laws—strict laws—about magical commoners. You're only allowed to exist if you're registered with the Crown and bonded to a noble house."
"I am bonded to House Valois."
"As a servant, not as a mage!" Seraphine's voice rose. "If this gets out, my father will either take you for his own use—which would be a fate worse than death—or he'll have you eliminated as a potential threat!"
Her fear is genuine. She's scared for me.
"Then we keep it secret," I said calmly. "Tell no one. I continue as your butler, but I train privately."
"You can't train without a teacher. And every magical instructor at this academy reports to the administration."
"Then you teach me."
Seraphine stopped pacing. "What?"
"You're a skilled mage. You know the fundamentals. Teach me the basics in secret, and I'll develop the rest on my own."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because," I said carefully, "a butler with magic is valuable. I could protect you better. Help you with your studies. Gather information in ways a normal servant couldn't." I met her eyes. "And because I think you're tired of being alone. Having one person you can trust—truly trust—might be worth the risk."
Seraphine stared at me for a long moment. "You're manipulating me."
"Yes."
"By appealing to my loneliness."
"Yes."
"And you think I'm foolish enough to fall for that?"
"No. I think you're smart enough to recognize when someone is being honest about their manipulation."
A long silence.
Then, incredibly, Seraphine laughed. It was a real laugh, not the cold mockery from before—genuine amusement.
"You're insane," she said, but there was warmth in her voice. "Completely, utterly insane." She moved to her desk and pulled out a blank journal. "Fine. I'll teach you. Basic theory, meditation techniques, mana control. But we do this my way, on my schedule, and if I think you're becoming a liability, I'll end this arrangement immediately."
"Understood, my lady."
"And Lockhart?" She fixed me with a serious look. "If you betray this trust—if you use what I teach you against me or my house—I will kill you myself. Not with magic. Not quickly. I'll make it last."
The threat should have terrified me. Instead, I felt oddly reassured. This was Seraphine dropping her mask, showing her real self.
"I wouldn't expect anything less, my lady."
[Quest Complete: "Awakening"]
Reward: +200 XP, Skill [Mana Manipulation] Lv. 1 acquired
Seraphine Loyalty: 22 → 35 (Cautious Alliance)
New Quest Available: "The Hidden Student"]
Objective: Learn basic magic without detection
Reward: Class Option Unlocked, ???
"Sit," Seraphine commanded, gesturing to a cushion on the floor. "First lesson starts now. We'll begin with meditation and sensing your mana core."
I sat, and she moved behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders. Her touch was surprisingly gentle.
"Close your eyes. Focus on your breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Count your breaths."
I obeyed, falling into the rhythm. One. Two. Three.
"Magic is not external," Seraphine said softly, her voice falling into a teaching cadence. "It's not something you draw from the air or the earth. It originates within you—in your mana core, located here."
She pressed her fingers against my sternum, right where I'd felt the spark earlier.
"Everyone's core is different. Some are large, some small. Some burn hot, others run cold. Quality matters more than quantity. A tiny core used efficiently beats a large one squandered."
Four. Five. Six.
"Now, still breathing, turn your focus inward. Imagine diving beneath your skin, past muscle and bone, to the center of yourself. Find the warmth. The energy. The spark."
Seven. Eight. Nine.
I sank deeper into meditation, following her instructions. And there—
The spark expanded. No longer a tiny flicker but a small flame, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. It was beautiful and terrifying, full of potential and danger.
"I see it," I whispered.
"Good. Don't reach for it yet. Just observe. Get familiar with how it feels, how it moves. This is your mana—your life force shaped into power."
We sat like that for what felt like hours but was probably only twenty minutes. When Seraphine finally released my shoulders, I felt different—more aware of the energy flowing through my body.
"That's enough for today," she said. "Too much too fast will damage your core. We'll do this every evening after your duties are complete."
I stood, legs slightly numb from sitting. "Thank you, my lady."
"Don't thank me yet. You have no idea how difficult this will be." She moved to the window, looking out at the academy grounds. "But Lockhart... Priam. If we do this, we do it together. Partners in secret, if not in status."
"Partners," I agreed.
A knock at the door interrupted the moment.
Seraphine's expression shifted instantly back to the Ice Queen. "Enter."
Rosalie, the handmaid, stepped in. "My lady, a message from House Clarisse. Lady D'Argent requests your presence at afternoon tea. She's extending the invitation to several first-year ladies."
Clarisse making her move already.
Seraphine's jaw tightened. "Decline. I have no interest in—"
"My lady," I interrupted carefully. "Perhaps you should accept."
Both women turned to stare at me.
"A servant does not interrupt," Seraphine said coldly.
"You're right, my lady. Forgive me. But if Lady Clarisse is gathering first-years, she's establishing her social circle. Declining might be seen as weakness or fear."
"I don't care what Clarisse thinks."
"But you care what others think. If you're absent, Clarisse will control the narrative about you. If you're present, you can defend yourself."
Seraphine considered this. "You think I should walk into the viper's nest."
"I think you should remind the vipers why you're the most dangerous thing in the room."
Rosalie looked between us, eyebrows raised. "My lady, your new butler makes a fair point."
Seraphine sighed. "Fine. Accept the invitation. But Lockhart, you're accompanying me. If this goes badly, I want someone watching my back."
"As you command, my lady."
[New Quest: "Tea and Poison"]
Objective: Survive Lady Clarisse's social gathering
Warning: Social combat is still combat
Reward: Intelligence on major players, ???
As Rosalie left to send the acceptance, I realized what I'd just committed us to.
Afternoon tea with Clarisse D'Argent, the woman who'd destroyed servants for sport and manipulated social circles with surgical precision.
This was either going to be very educational or very fatal.
Possibly both.
POV: Liana Hart
Liana sat in her small dormitory room—barely larger than a closet compared to the noble suites—and stared at the orientation materials spread across her desk.
Everything is going according to plan.
The opening ceremony had been perfect. Edric's outburst had made him look unstable, painting House Renault as volatile. Prince Cedric's intervention had established him as her protector. Duke Roland's support had shown he valued justice.
And most importantly, Headmaster Aldric had taken her under his personal supervision.
That last part had required significant preparation. Three months of careful setup—forged letters, planted rumors, strategic encounters—all designed to make the Headmaster believe she was worth his attention.
He thinks he's discovered me. Fool. I've been guiding him toward this conclusion since the beginning.
But there were complications.
Seraphine de Valois remained a problem. The villainess should have been easy to destroy—her reputation was already terrible, her family feared and hated. A few calculated incidents, some well-placed testimony, and she'd be finished.
But that butler. Priam Lockhart.
Liana pulled out a small notebook and flipped to his page. She'd been keeping detailed files on everyone important.
Priam Lockhart
Age: 17
Status: Indentured servant to House Valois
Background: Parents died in Valois mines. Raised in servitude.
Abilities: Unknown. Observations: Intelligent, strategic thinker, protective of Seraphine, willing to take risks.
Assessment: ANOMALY
The game—because Liana knew this was a game world, knew it in her bones—hadn't mentioned a character like Priam. The butler in the original storyline had been a non-entity, dead before the story really started.
But this Priam was different. He'd intervened twice now, disrupting events that should have played out in her favor.
Who are you really? Are you like me? Another player who knows the script?
She couldn't risk finding out directly. Not yet. But she could test him.
A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.
"Miss Hart?" A male voice, refined and educated. "May I have a moment?"
Liana quickly hid her notebook and composed her expression into one of innocent surprise. She opened the door to find Lord Garrick Thorne standing in the hallway.
"Lord Garrick," she said, offering a curtsy. "I'm honored, but it's improper for a noble to visit a commoner's room."
"Which is why we'll speak in the hallway," Garrick replied smoothly. His gray eyes studied her with unsettling intensity. "I wanted to introduce myself properly. We'll be in several classes together."
"Of course, my lord."
"Please, call me Garrick. I prefer informality with those I find interesting." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And you are very interesting, Miss Hart."
Careful. He's the strategist. He sees patterns, connections. Don't give him anything to work with.
"I'm just a commoner trying to make the most of this opportunity," Liana said humbly.
"Are you?" Garrick leaned against the wall casually. "It's curious. A commoner with no documented history appears at the academy with skills and bearing that suggest noble training. The Headmaster himself takes personal interest. Prince Cedric becomes your champion within hours." His smile widened. "One might wonder if there's more to your story."
"I've been fortunate to have kind teachers and generous patrons," Liana said, maintaining her innocent expression. "Is there something specific you wanted to discuss, Lord Garrick?"
"Just curiosity. I like to know who my classmates really are." He pushed off from the wall. "But I can see you're not ready to trust me yet. That's wise. Trust is earned, after all." He started to walk away, then paused. "Oh, one more thing. Lady Clarisse is hosting afternoon tea. You're invited. I believe the invitation is being delivered as we speak."
Clarisse. Another problem. The saintess archetype who's actually as ruthless as I am.
"That's very kind of her."
"Kind." Garrick chuckled. "Yes, that's one word for it. Attend if you wish. But be careful, Miss Hart. Clarisse doesn't extend invitations without purpose."
He left, and Liana closed her door, leaning against it.
Too many complications. Priam Lockhart investigating me. Garrick Thorne suspicious of my background. Clarisse making moves. And I still need to secure Cedric's loyalty before others claim him.
She pulled out her notebook again and added a new entry:
**Priority List:
Eliminate or neutralize Seraphine (waiting for the right opportunity)
Secure Prince Cedric's commitment
Investigate Priam Lockhart's anomalous behavior
Counter Clarisse's social manipulation
Maintain Headmaster's favor
Begin gathering the harem according to script**
This world is supposed to be mine. I died in my old life, got a second chance here, and I'm not wasting it. Every obstacle will be removed. Every threat neutralized.
Even if that threat is a butler who doesn't know his place.
End of Chapter 3