Chapter ten: The War Begins
The room was cold with silence, yet the atmosphere was charged like a storm ready to break. Elvara stood at the front of the class, her glasses glinting with a sense of resolve. "We will take this matter to the School Court," she declared firmly, her voice slicing through the tension.
Without another word, she stormed out, leaving behind a trail of gasps and startled whispers.
Immediately, every head in the class turned to Paul. The boy sat at his desk, eyes buried in a thick book. Not a twitch of emotion showed on his face.
"Why the hell would you carry the case to the School Court?!" boomed a deep voice.
It was Peterson—Deborah's crush. A tall, muscular figure with a stare that could freeze fire. He marched up to Paul, fists clenched, veins bulging with fury.
"You want to make everything worse?!" another student yelled.
"Are you crazy?! They'll definitely expel us now!"
"You're digging our grave!"
Insults poured in from all corners. Felix stood up to defend Paul, but his voice was swallowed by the mob. Paul simply flipped a page. In his head, one word circled lazily: Immatures.
Then Cain stood up, his voice calmer but weighted with guilt. "How do you expect to win the case when I'm guilty?"
A second wave of shouts erupted. Students screamed at Paul, hurling insults and threats. At last, Paul calmly closed his book and slammed it against the table. The sound echoed like a thunderclap. Silence.
Paul stood up slowly and spoke with deadly calm:
"Aren't you all the ones panicking like little birds in a cage about to be thrown into a furnace? You're scared you'll be expelled? So am I. You think I don't know the risk? I do. But unlike you, I decided to do something. This, right here, is my last card. The final trick up my sleeve. A calculated gamble—not just to save Cain—but to save every single one of you from being expelled like trash by a system that has always hated us. And how do you repay that? By acting like savages and turning on each other. You don't deserve my explanation. Immature doesn't even begin to describe this circus."
He turned to Cain.
"And you. I know you're innocent."
With that, Paul walked out, leaving behind stunned silence. Some students whispered he was stupid. Others called him brave. But when their eyes turned to Cain, their rage reignited. Objects flew. Bottles. Books. Cain shielded himself, enduring the hate of those he'd once called classmates.
Meanwhile, Paul sat alone in the garden, his back against the bark of an old tree, his nose buried in another book.
"You must be crazy."
He looked up.
Prisca.
She stood with arms folded, her eyes locked on his.
"It wasn't stupid," Paul replied, calm as ever. "It was a sacrifice."
Prisca stepped closer, her voice softening. "Carrying this case to the School Court is risky. But... I'll support you."
Paul blinked. That, he didn't expect.
"I... I'd be honored," he said with sincerity.
Prisca sat next to him. "But why Cain? He's lazy, loves to fight, and we don't even have evidence. Why risk everything for someone like that?"
Paul was silent for a long time.
Finally, he spoke.
"Because he didn't do it. You see, the seniors have been picking on us since the beginning because we're Class E—the lowest. The school staff, the so-called 'Holy Ones', do nothing. Maybe... just maybe... Cain was set up. If we don't stand now, we'll be their punching bags forever."
Prisca's face darkened. "You might be right. Things haven't been the same since Class E was created. The school system—it's broken."
Paul nodded. "Get ready, Prisca. We're not just defending Cain. We're going to war."
---
Elvara stormed into a grand office. The walls were lined with magical scrolls and relics. At the desk sat a young boy in a flawless suit. His presence alone carried power.
"Sir," she said, placing a file before him, "Class E is pushing the case to the School Court."
The boy was writing. He stopped. A moment passed, and then—he laughed.
"Let them," he said. "Tell the court. Tell the whole school. Let's see how this plays out."
Word spread like wildfire.
Students whispered in hallways, cafeteria lines, magic class.
"Class E is going to the School Court?"
"They should just remove that class already."
"This is going to be brutal."
---
Deep beneath the school, in a hidden basement, fists slammed against flesh. Cries of pain echoed.
Three boys knelt, bruised and bloodied, as others hit them.
A figure emerged from the shadows. Elijah Croft. Class B. Prefect. A star student with a terrifying power. He raised his hand, whispering his spell:
"Tormentum Spiralis."
Dark tendrils of pain wrapped around the kneeling boys, writhing like snakes, slicing like knives.
"YOU FOOLS!" Elijah bellowed. "I gave you one task! Destroy Class E! Instead, they've gained a second chance?!"
"We tried!" one cried. "We didn't expect them to take it to court!"
His assistant stepped forward. "Elijah, enough. They did what they could."
Elijah withdrew his spell.
"Fine. But I'm not done with you. You will sabotage Class E's case. And after that... kill Cain Voss."
The boys nodded in fear.
"Understood."
They scrambled away.
The assistant turned. "Why Cain? Why Class E?"
Elijah was quiet.
A flashback hit—a younger Cain and Elijah laughing, training together. Best friends.
Elijah shook it off.
"It's personal."
---
In the School Court chamber, light poured through stained glass. On one side stood Liorion Dante—Prisca's brother. On the other, Selene Noir, surrounded by her glam-thug girls.
Liorion flipped through a case file. "So, Class E commits a violation in their first semester."
He smirked.
Selene rolled her eyes. "Not surprising. The lowest class always cracks first. Satisfying, really."
One of her girls tugged too hard on her nails.
"Be careful, idiot! That hurt!"
"Sorry!"
Liorion sighed. "They're not your slaves. They're students."
"Friends and pawns," Selene smiled. "Same thing."
She leaned forward. "Liorion, your sister's in Class E. You gonna protect her? Or be Astra's loyal hound?"
Liorion stood, stern. "I'm a man of discipline. I follow Astra's rules. Family doesn't matter here."
He walked out.
Selene chuckled. "This is going to be fun."
---
At the scene of Cain's incident, Paul was kneeling, observing magical traces.
"You really think you'll win?"
Paul turned.
Zeek. Prefect Number 10.
Paul didn't answer.
"Stop acting formal, Paul. What's your plan? Why are you even here at Astra Academy?"
Paul stared at him. "You've got the wrong idea. I'm not here on a mission. I'm here..."
Then he saw her.
Naomi. Watching from a window.
Zeek noticed and smirked. "Anyway, I'm watching you."
He left.
Paul walked to Naomi.
"Why are you here?"
Naomi smiled.
Prisca stepped out. "I brought her. She wants to help with the case."
Paul looked between them, surprised.
Prisca smiled. "This time, Class E will not fall."
Paul nodded.
"Then let's fight. Together."