Heads turned. Hundreds of eyes on me.
Fuck... and there goes my plan to stay invisible.
The weight of all those stares pressed down like mana in the air—thick, unrelenting, almost suffocating. My skin prickled under the scrutiny, every whisper a needle against my resolve. I kept my head down, shoulders hunched, weaving through the rows to a seat in the back as quickly as I could without running. My heart pounded in my ears, louder than the murmurs rippling through the crowd, each beat a reminder of how badly I'd already failed.
Day one. Day fucking one. And I'm already the spectacle. Great job, Eryndor. Truly stellar.
The auditorium was massive—high ceilings arched like a cathedral, walls etched with glowing runes that pulsed with mana in a steady rhythm, like a heartbeat. The light from those runes cast shifting shadows across the floor, making the entire space feel alive, breathing. Banners with the empire's crest hung from the rafters, swaying slightly in an invisible breeze, their golden threads catching the mana-light in tiny sparks. The stage was dominated by a crystal podium, flanked by teachers in dark robes, their expressions stern and unyielding, like statues carved from authority itself.
I sank into my seat, trying to make myself small. The chair was hard, uncomfortable—fitting for F-Class, I guessed. The wood creaked under me, a small sound lost in the sea of rustling robes and hushed voices.
The teacher on stage—a stern man with a trimmed beard and sharp eyes—paused only briefly before resuming. "As I was saying... Mira Solvine?"
"Here," a girl's voice called from the front.
Mira Solvine.
Another name that tugged at the edges of my mind. Familiar. Too familiar.
Alchemist type. The smart one in the group. The one who always had a potion ready, always knew the ingredients...
I sank deeper into my seat, heart still pounding. The whispers continued— "That commoner.. with the hair..." "F-Class, probably." "Late on day one? Bold move."
I ignored them, focusing on the roll call. The teacher called names in order—royals first, then high nobles, low nobles, and finally F-Class at the end.
"Raiden Veylthorne."
"Present," a confident voice replied from the center.
Raiden Veylthorne.
The name hit like a hammer. I knew it. From the story. The crown prince. The hero.
Raiden—the golden boy who becomes emperor. The one who leads the charge against the Abyss. Charismatic, arrogant, destined for greatness. The one who gets the girl in the end.
No. Coincidence.
"Kael Nachtschatten."
"Here," a low, brooding voice said.
Kael Nachtschatten.
The half-demon prince. Another one.
Kael—the dark rival, with shadow powers. The one who almost turns evil but gets redeemed. The brooding love interest with a tragic past.
The puzzle pieces were snapping into place, faster now. My breath quickened.
"Silas Ardent."
"Present."
Silas Ardent. From the carriage.
Silas—the loyal knight, always the protector. The good guy in the group. The one who hesitates but follows orders.
And then: "Celine de Luthaine."
"Here," her voice rang out, clear and composed.
Celine de Luthaine.
The heroine.
It all clicked. This world. These names.
This was Eternal Crown of Ashes.
And I wasn't in it.
The realization crashed over me like a wave. I gripped the armrest, trying to steady myself. The story I read—multiple times, scrolling through chapters on sleepless nights. The prophecy, the academy, the nobles gathering to fight the Abyss. The heroine who seals the rifts.
But in that story, there was no Eryndor Vale.
I was a glitch. An extra.
What the hell was I doing here? This wasn't my story. I was supposed to be invisible, not... this.
The teacher continued calling names, his voice a drone in the background. F-Class now—commoners like me.
"Eryndor Vale?"
Silence.
"Eryndor Vale?" he repeated, scanning the room.
I swallowed and stood, legs stiff as if they didn't quite belong to me. "Here."
The word had barely left my mouth when it hit me.
Not the weight of the auditorium's attention—that was already there, dull and overwhelming, hundreds of eyes blending into one faceless mass.
This was different.
Four eyes.
Focused. Unwavering.
They pressed into my back with surgical precision, not scattered or idle like the rest. Two distinct points of attention, aligned just right—one at the base of my skull, the other between my shoulder blades—so sharp I could almost map their gaze on my skin.
My shoulders tensed despite myself.
Don't turn around.
Turning would mean acknowledging them. And acknowledging them would mean tearing through the fragile illusion of invisibility I was still clinging to.
But my body didn't care about plans.
The fine hairs along my neck rose, a cold shiver crawling down my spine like ice water seeping beneath my shirt. My breath hitched for half a second before I forced it steady, jaw tightening as I faced forward.
This wasn't hostility.
Not yet.
It was… intent.
Curious. Evaluating.
Like they weren't asking who I was—but what.
The sensation was too precise to be coincidence. Four eyes— two people, and whoever they were, they weren't whispering or snickering like the rest. They weren't judging my clothes, my rank, or my hair.
They were studying me.
Who the hell are they…?
The teacher cleared his throat. "You're late. Make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Yes, sir," I replied automatically, barely hearing myself.
Whispers swelled again around me—
"That's the one who burst in."
"F-Class, obviously."
"Look at that hair… violet? Is he trying to stand out?"
I sat back down, movements controlled, deliberate. My face stayed neutral, but my grip tightened around the armrest until my fingers ached.
The four eyes didn't go away.
Even as the roll call moved on.
Even as the murmurs shifted to new targets.
Even as I tried to sink deeper into the seat, to disappear into the wood and shadows.
They lingered.
Steady. Unblinking.
This wasn't the usual disdain from nobles, or the quiet resignation of F-Class students. This was sharper. Personal.
Someone's actually interested in me.
The realization sent another chill racing down my spine.
I didn't know who they were.
I didn't want to know.
I just wanted them to stop looking.
But they didn't.
And that—more than the whispers, more than the snickers, more than the weak flicker of the orb that would probably follow soon—made my stomach twist in a way nothing else had today.
Because if someone was watching me that closely on the very first day…
…then maybe staying invisible was already impossible.
The teacher finished the roll call, his voice echoing. "That's all. Now, before we begin the core assessment, a few words from Principal Aldric Sternfall."
A tall, imposing man stepped forward—gray hair, sharp features, robes embroidered with stars. His presence filled the room, mana radiating like heat from a fire.
"Welcome to Sternenkrone Academy," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "You are the future of the Celestine Empire. But remember: Bloodlines define your potential. Train hard, push your limits, and ascend the realms. The Aschenmoon approaches. When the blood-red moon rises, the rifts will widen, and the Abyss will test us. A heroine will rise to seal them—or so the prophecy says. But all of you must be ready to support her."
The prophecy. The heroine.
My stomach twisted. I knew this speech—or something like it—from the story. Word for word, almost.
It's all real. The Aschenmoon, the rifts, the Abyss... and the heroine. Celine.
"And Now" he said, "Professor Elijah Thorne will continue with the core assessments"
The principal stepped back, and Professor Thorne took over. "As the Principal said just now, we will proceed with the core assessment. This will measure your mana-core's strength, affinity, and bloodline potential. Step forward when called. The orb will reveal your rank."
A large crystal orb was rolled onto the stage, glowing softly. The teacher called names again—starting with the royals.
Raiden Veylthorne stepped up first. He placed his hand on the orb. It lit up brilliantly—golden light, swirling with power.
"Expert rank. Royal bloodline. Affinity: Light. Excellent."
Applause rippled through the room.
Kael Nachtschatten next. The orb glowed dark red, shadows dancing inside.
"Expert rank. High Noble bloodline. Affinity: Shadow. Impressive."
More applause, though quieter.
Celine de Luthaine. The orb shimmered with divine white light.
"Adept rank. High Noble bloodline. Affinity: Divine Light. Outstanding."
Whispers of awe.
The tests continued—high nobles mostly Adept or Expert, low nobles Adept. F-Class came last.
My turn approached. The whispers grew as commoners were called—weak glows, Novice ranks, no bloodlines.
"Eryndor Vale."
I stood, legs steady despite the knot in my stomach. The walk to the stage felt eternal, eyes burning into me.
I placed my hand on the orb.
It flickered—pale blue, dim, unsteady.
"Novice rank. No detectable bloodline. Affinity: Undefined. Proceed with caution."
Snickers from the crowd. "Weak core." "No bloodline." "He'll wash out."
The teacher nodded. "Next."
As I returned to my seat, i could still feel two pairs of eyes lingering on me, my face burning. Even though i'm Undefined. Weak.
Why are they so interested in me?
But the realization drowned it all.
This was the story.
And I was changing it.