God From The Abyss

Chapter 50: Chapter 050: Silver Arcane Academy!

The late-morning air was charged with the tension and nervous excitement of a few hundred youths gathered at the massive gates of one of the most revered institutions in three realms.

The academy sat atop a plateau that overlooked the capital city. Its large buildings, towers, spires, and glass-domed observatories, covered in glass, gleamed like mirrors to the heavens under the sunlight. Marble walkways curved from the gate and broke up into branches, all leading to a different part of the school. In between these walkways, gardens of flowers rose to the occasion, adding to the aesthetics, while the walls, as far as the eye could see, surrounding the academy buzzed and hummed faintly under the effect of an array.

A number of carriages were still pulling up to the massive gates, each bearing proudly the coats of arms and crests of the various noble families, merchants, guilds, and a few private wealthy patrons. The stone-paved courtyard at the entrance was a scene of motion and color: horses snorting, coachmen bowing, maids dressing the hems of their young masters’ and young ladies’ coats.

A cluster of older students stood at the periphery of an exceptionally large building — the auditorium.

This lineup of five elite students wore the formal academy attire. The males wore double-breasted white coats with golden embroidery, black trousers, and black shoes polished to a shine. One of them wore a long cape with a golden crest of scales. As for the girls, white pleated skirts paired with golden bows, thigh-high stockings with gold trim, and tailored jackets matching the male design.

"Beautiful!"

"Amazing!"

"The students here are truly the most beautiful in the world!"

"Another batch of pampered heirs and quite a number of hopeful commoners," one of the students murmured, his eyes scanning the gathered interviewees. "Also, why are we even here?"

"Stop complaining so much, Grey," a blonde girl groaned in frustration. "Or I will be forced to humiliate you before our prospects. And need I remind you that a little over three years ago, you were just like them?"

"Now, now, Miss Secretary Irina. No need to..."

Irina glared at the owner of the voice. "Just shut up, Dylan."

The raven-colored-haired boy waved his hand slightly in defeat.

Just then, the clock tower chimed, signalling the eleventh hour of the day.

"President, it is time."

"Send word, close the gates, and tell the prospects to gather in the hall." The boy at the center of the group finally spoke. "And Audry?"

A blue-haired girl turned to him. "President?"

"Drop the ’President’."

"I will keep on trying, President."

Irina and Dylan did their best to hold in their laughs.

"No fooling around. Let us get to work. The headmaster will be here in thirty minutes. I want every one of them seated as soon as possible."

Another carriage, the last, approached just as the gatemen moved to close the gates, unadorned with any crest, simple and quiet. It stopped just before the academy gates.

A figure stepped out — tall, loose in posture, and movements unhurried and unconcerned despite the sea of eyes turning towards him. A hand was running through his tousled white hair, soft, wild, and effortlessly regal. His skin tone was almost porcelain pale, which beautifully matched the snowy strands of hair that caught the morning light.

He wore a high-collared cream turtleneck and black trousers and finished the look with a sleeveless long coat that stretched all the way to his ankle region. Simple, yet it spoke of elegance.

On his ear, a gold earring gleamed subtly.

The onlookers could not help but recognize the beauty of a man who made even girls feel like they had lost out to him. There had been no family crest on his carriage, no attendants followed. Yet his presence, something in it, screamed of an unspoken weight.

A few youths whispered.

"Who’s that?"

"No idea. I wonder which family he came from."

"Tch, that guy is..... Thinks he’s all arrogant and good-looking."

Mikael slipped his hands into his pockets as he began walking to the overpopulated pavilion. A staff member found her greetings faltering as he glanced at her and passed.

"Seems like this one’s skilled," Audry noted audibly.

The other four nodded.

"Basically screaming ’main character’. You might just get your hands full, President."

The President cast a glance at her.

"Maybe. It is time. Have the gates closed."

A voice rang out through the Academy grounds.

"Good morning and welcome to Silver Arcane Academy, ladies and gentlemen. Truly a delight to have you here. Now proceed into the hall before you. If you are not seated within fifteen minutes, you will be deemed to have forfeited the interview and will be sent back."

As the prospects filed in, Mikael walked with his usual slouch, hands in pockets. The late-morning light filtered through the stained-glass dome above, scattering across his hair. He felt the gaze of hundreds upon him, yet met none of them — his mind completely elsewhere, faintly amused by the electric air of ambition, competition, and envy.

The murmur of hundreds of voices filled the Acthrion Auditorium. The prospects whispered about their Awakening ceremonies, family prestige, rumored prodigies, as well as the supposed war with demons.

Mikael stood at the door, waiting for everyone to enter. He would not have to drag an entrance with a bunch of children.

’Although they all are children in my eyes, adults and children alike.’ He sighed inwardly.

There was only one reason he was here in the first place: a vision somehow caused by Ragnarok. One that hinted at one of the relics that came from the same place as the scythe was being stored in the vaults of this institution. There was a suspicion that it might just be the Heavens trying to trick him, but nothing pointed to the fact that they could influence Ragnarok. Nothing from his memories, albeit hazy, said so.

Behind him stood the student council, surprised that the fifteen-minute threat did not faze him.

As Mikael gazed into the hall, his lips curled into a dangerous smile.

"Excuse me, young man," Irina called out. "Aren’t you supposed to be entering? You’re this close to getting locked out."

Mikael tilted his head backwards, his gaze falling heavily on the group. His golden eyes shone brightly, and a smirk appeared on his lips.

"I’ll keep that in mind."

And he stepped in, unbothered. Each step was lazy, effortless.

But with his third step, it began. The air shuddered.

A ripple — soft, silent — spread from where he walked. Then another, with increasing ferocity.

Then another — until every single person in the hall dropped to their knees, whilst the stronger ones froze mid-breath, eyes wide with confusion and primal fear.

"This is no mere aura," an old man in a lavish office some hundred feet away noted, nodding.

"This is presence. He is imposing his existence, albeit weakened intentionally, on others. Duke Alan Von Limnor, what kind of monstrosity have you found yourself?"

And with a puff of smoke, the old man vanished.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!