After Edward stepped aside, a woman with flowing black hair and striking green eyes glided to the front.
She wore a sleeveless pink warrior hanfu, elegant yet bold, with a crisp white haori draped lightly over her shoulders. Black leather boots grounded her presence, every step unhurried but commanding. A faint fragrance, like roses after rain, seemed to follow her.
The hall stirred instantly. Boys leaned forward in their seats, some gaping openly, while others traded frantic whispers.
"By the gods…" one muttered.
"She looks like she belongs on a temple mural…" another groaned, clutching his chest.
A few girls rolled their eyes, already annoyed.
Sakura's lips curved into a playful smile as her gaze swept the room. "Well hello there, boys and girls!" Her voice was rich, warm, and bright enough to cut through the murmurs. "I am Sakura Rosered, an Arcane Rank Forest Magus. I'll be your teacher in the fascinating world of Alchemy—where we'll unlock the secrets of magical potions. Remember, understanding your herbs and healing," she winked, "is just as crucial as casting any spell."
She tipped her head, the black strands of her hair swaying as she added: "And of course, I'll serve as your occasional healer. You'll find me in the medic room. So fear not the nicks and bruises from training—or when your experiments go… boom."
Her little "boom" made a few disciples chuckle. But when she blew a playful kiss at the crowd, the chuckles exploded into wild cheers.
"She's an angel!"
"No, a goddess—look at her eyes!"
"Can we please get injured every day? Just once, let her heal me!"
"Forget Edward—Sakura's ours now!"
And then it began.
"Sa-ku-ra! Sa-ku-ra! Sa-ku-ra!"
The boys' chanting shook the courtyard. Sakura blushed faintly but raised a hand in a queenly wave. That simple gesture made the cheers intensify until some boys clutched their hearts like stricken poets. Meanwhile, the girls hissed and muttered in their corner.
"Seriously? That outfit is way too revealing…"
"Boys are hopeless—drooling over a mature woman like dogs."
"Ridiculous. Ugh. Grow up already."
The uproar rattled the air. Maya, arms crossed at the side, had endured long enough. Sparks seemed to dance around her as she stormed forward.
"SILENCE!"
Her palm came down on the nearest table with a thunderous crack. The heavy oak split neatly in half, collapsing in two stunned pieces. The courtyard went dead quiet.
Maya's sharp gaze swept the disciples like lightning across a storm sky. "First you girls fawn over Edward, and now you boys disgrace yourselves over Sakura? This is a classroom, not a marketplace! Show some respect!"
The disciples shrank back, guilty and silent.
"Oh, dear God," Maya groaned, rubbing her forehead. "This year will be even more painful than the last."
Sakura only laughed softly and stepped closer, laying a gentle hand on Maya's shoulder. "Relax, darling. I think this year is going to be incredibly fun." Her laugh rang like silver bells, playful and warm.
Shaun found himself frozen, caught by that sound. Something about Sakura's vibrant aura tugged at him—her smile, her green eyes alive with mischief. His heart thudded in ways he didn't quite understand. But then… a chill. The hairs on his neck rose. Slowly, he turned his head.
Natasha sat beside him, her eyes narrowed into dagger slits, lips curled into a glacial smile that promised only pain. Shaun's breath caught. His hands went clammy.
"H-hey, Natasha…" he whispered nervously. "You look upset. Is something wrong?"
Her eyes glittered dangerously as she leaned in. "Upset? Not at all. Everything is just peachy, Shaun." Her voice was sweet poison. "Except for the part where you were ogling an older woman."
"O-ogling? W-what? No, I wasn't—" he stammered.
"Don't play dumb," Natasha purred, her tone low and sharp as a blade. "I saw you. Drooling like the rest of them. You have two choices. Either I end you here and now…" She tilted closer, her breath brushing his ear. "Or you wait until class is over, and I'll end you then."
Shaun gulped. His throat felt like sand. He closed his eyes, whispering a desperate prayer only he could hear: I'm going to die today. God, please… just let me survive until tomorrow.
**********
After Sakura stepped back, the atmosphere shifted as another teacher glided forward.
Her presence was entirely different—calm, serene, and radiant in its simplicity. She wore a milk-white saree embroidered with threads of gold, the fabric catching the light like the first rays of dawn. Long, dark hair spilled like a midnight river over her shoulders, swaying gently with each graceful step.
When she bowed, it was with the poise of one who needed no grandeur to command attention. Her eyes—bright as a peacock's plume—seemed to hold both kindness and quiet wisdom.
"Suprabhatam, disciples," she greeted, her sweet, lilting voice carrying through the hall like the call of a cuckoo on a spring morning. The sound itself softened the air, as if the restless chatter of the courtyard had been lulled into harmony.
"I am Saraswati Swarvandini, an Arcane Rank Heavenly Magus. I will be your teacher for Regional Culture and the Art of Music."
Her smile deepened as she continued, every word weaving an invisible thread that bound the disciples' attention.
"As Heavenly Magi, we are all entrusted with immense power. Yet, remember this: true strength does not lie only in the force of your spells. It is born also from the purity of your spirit. Music… has the power to cleanse the body and mind, to soothe restless souls, to bring solace to troubled hearts, and to scatter shadows of despair."
A hush had fallen. Even the breeze seemed to pause, carrying her words gently to every ear.
"I warmly invite you to join Swarkaksha, my vocal class. Together, through harmony, we may learn not just to wield power… but to guide the world toward peace."
She ended with another bow, graceful as a swan dipping its neck. The disciples exhaled almost as one, as though they had been holding their breath throughout her speech. Then the whispers began, reverent and hushed.
"Lady Saraswati… she's so graceful…"
"Her voice… it's like she's singing even when she speaks."
"Swarkaksha… maybe I'll join. If she's the teacher, even my croaking might sound divine."
"She's not just beautiful… she's inspiring."
Shaun felt a strange calm settle over him, as though his restless heart had been washed clean by her presence. For once, he wasn't thinking of strength, or rivalry, or even Natasha's temper—only peace. Beside him, Natasha's sharp edges seemed softened too. She nodded quietly, her expression unusually gentle.
"You're right, Shaun," she murmured. "She truly is beautiful. I think… we should join Swarkaksha too."
**********
Once Saraswati concluded her introduction, the final teacher stepped forward. A hush fell instantly.
She was tall, striking, her long black hair flowing behind her like a banner of midnight silk. The lavender royal warrior hanfu embraced her figure with effortless grace, while the pristine white haori gave her the air of someone who expected — no, demanded — respect. Every step she took was soundless, yet carried the weight of authority.
"Good morning, disciples," she began, her voice rich and perfectly measured. "I am Katherine Dragonblade, Magistar Rank Heavenly Magus. My arts are Ancient Inscription, Spell Studies, and Political Diplomacy — the pillars of civilization itself." Her phoenix eyes swept over the hall, sharp and proud, before she continued.
"The Silver Heaven Region stands strong because of Defense. Because of foresight. Because of the ingenuity of noble blood. For centuries, my family — the Dragonblades — has carved the very shield that protects you. Our inscriptions, our power, our sacrifices." Her chin tilted slightly upward, every syllable dripping with self-assurance.
Murmurs of awe stirred among the disciples. A few could hardly tear their eyes away from her, captivated by her beauty and poise. Then Katherine's tone shifted — softer, colder.
"Of course… not all who stand here are destined to uphold that legacy." She gestured lazily toward the Commoner disciples, her manicured fingers slicing the air like a blade. "Some of you lack the spark. The lineage. You may toil, and sweat, and bleed…" Her lips curved into a smile that wasn't kind. "…but dirt cannot polish itself into gold. And no matter how high you climb, the sky will never belong to you."
The words landed like stones in still water, rippling across the hall. Commoners stiffened, shame tightening their throats. From the noble side, soft whispers floated like knives in the air:
"Did you hear that? She's right—look at them."
"They should be grateful just to breathe the same air as us."
Among the commoners, heads lowered. A few clenched their fists under the table, silent, their whispers just as sharp:
"…She doesn't even see us as people."
"We'll prove her wrong… somehow."
Katherine basked in the silence she had shaped, her smile faint, victorious. Maya's hands clenched, her fiery gaze fixed on Katherine. Katherine caught it — and smirked. A silent duel flared between them, invisible yet scorching.
"It seems someone takes offense," Katherine said silkily, tilting her head toward Maya. "Perhaps they mistake defiance for strength. How quaint." She let the tension linger, then turned with practiced elegance, gliding back toward her seat beside Edward. Every sway of her robes was deliberate, as if she was reminding the room: I am above you.
Shaun lowered his eyes, voice barely audible. "She really doesn't hide it… She sees us as nothing. How can a teacher look at her disciples that way?"
Natasha placed her hand firmly on his arm, grounding him. Her voice was steady, but her eyes blazed. "Let her sneer. Let her look down. That arrogance will be her downfall. We'll prove her wrong — every single one of us."
**********