Everyone was surprised that from where the sound has come and from the crowd an old man appeared with a young man and lady on its sides.
"Welcome Master Schwan" replied the crown prince with a smirk on his face.
The air itself seemed to grow heavy, the crowd's murmur swelling from a buzz into a wave of palpable shock. Phrases hissed through the air, charged with fear and wonder: "That's the robe... the sigil of Schwan!" "But he's a myth, a story to frighten children!" "Heaven help us, if he is here, then the prophecies..."
"What," a voice, quiet yet impossibly clear, silenced every other sound, "is this disruption?" All eyes turned to the Master and Commander, who swallowed hard. Bowing his head, he became a mere messenger, detailing the catastrophe to the one man whose presence now changed everything.
The air in the room, already thick with the growing tension, seemed to solidify. The divine gaze of the master was not a burning fire, but something far heavier—a gravity that pulled all secrets to the surface.
"What do you want to say in your defense?"
The words hung, not as an invitation, but as a final, merciful door held open. Yet, the offender found the threshold impossible to cross. A reply surged within him—a tangled skein of excuses, of fears, of reasons that felt like childish lies when held before that silent, knowing presence.
His head, bowed as if under a physical weight, sank lower. The silence that answered the master's question was not the silence of defiance, nor of ignorance. It was a deepening silence. It was the sound of a soul turning inward and finding, not a voice, but a vast and empty chamber where every possible word had been tried, judged, and found wanting. It was the echo of his own failings, now so glaringly obvious that to speak would be to profane the very air.
He could not meet the master's eyes—those eyes that were not his god's, but through which his god now looked. To meet them would be to see his own reflection, small and fractured, in a pool of infinite peace. And in that reflection, he saw the only truth that remained: there was no defense. There was only the transgression, and the long, silent road back from it.
The deepening silence became his confession. It was his plea. It was the only thing left of him that was still true.
The master's words fell not like a sentence, but like a guillotine blade, severing all hope.
"Your Highness, I apologize to you and the whole empire for this act of foolishness, on the behalf of my student."
His voice was a low, steady drum, each syllable driving the truth deeper into the hallowed ground of the academy. He did not look away from the offender, his gaze a physical anchor holding her in place.
"...and to correct her mistakes, I hereby declare that I will myself unveil her face to the world."
A collective, sharp intake of breath sucked the air from the room. It was more than a gasp; it was a visceral recoil, the sound of a sacred law being shattered before their very eyes. In the Empire, the academy was a sanctuary of anonymous minds. Identities were guarded more fiercely than any treasure, the masked countenance a symbol that here, only knowledge and skill mattered, not lineage or face. To be unveiled was to be cast out, not just from the academy, but from the very principle it stood for. It was a spiritual execution.
"No!" The word was torn from Anne, a raw, desperate sound. She stumbled forward, her own veil trembling with the force of her plea. "Master, you cannot! This isn't correction, it is annihilation!"
Suho was at her side, his usual composure shattered. "Master, I beg you," he implored, his voice tight. "There must be another way. A lifetime of penance, exile—anything but this. Her identity is her soul. To strip it is to make her a ghost."
"You can't do this to her, she did all of this just for your sake Master....and what do you think goanna happen when you will reveal the identity of the legendary fighter?? or are you happy with revealing the Sword of the Academy "Anne snapped.
With this shocking revelation there was a sudden wave of murmur shaping and changing the perspectives of different minds.
But the master remained immovable, a cliff against the storm of their protests. His glare never wavered from the offender, who stood frozen, the weight of his decree seeming to press her further into the stone floor. The silence that had been her confession now became her shroud. The reality of her punishment—to be exposed not by an enemy, but by the very teacher who had sworn to protect her anonymous pursuit of wisdom—was a cruelty far beyond any physical pain.
The master's hand slowly raised, the gesture funereal in its grace. All resistance crumbled into a horrified, breathless anticipation. He was not merely delivering a punishment; he was dismantling a life, and he would perform the act with his own hands, a final, terrible lesson in consequence.
"I do not think that I have done anything wrong. I don't give a f**k about all these idiots...there is no meaning of emperor, prince, empire for me. I am loyal to only my master, academy and my friends. Let me beware you idiots, if anyone of you will dare to hurt my master or friends, I am goanna kick you a** and if the Master wants to give me this punishment for my act, then it's my duty to fulfill it." suddenly the offender spoke up.
"You b*t*h, who do you think yourself to be... I will ripe out your tongue..." Miya roared in fury.
"Go ahead, give it a shot" Eso replied with a smirk and uplifting the veil of her face. Every single person was mesmerized for a second with her beauty. It was breath-taking and some even gasped and a lot were still in disbelief.
"Do you guys think that you can even touch her...😂 Haha... she has just laid her eyes on you guys and just see your condition. What if she just touches you?????? You guys can't even imagine her revenge.", this time it was Anne.
But chaos is a poor competitor for obsession. While the court devolved into a frenzy of speculation and fear, the Crown Prince was a study in absolute focus. The legendary master, the crisis, the murmuring crowd—it all faded into a distant, irrelevant hum. The only sound he heard was the rhythm of Eso's breathing; the only sight that mattered was the subtle shift in Eso's expression. In a room screaming with history, the prince was reading a single, silent story written on Eso's face.
"Stop it all of you." "Apologize to crown prince right now, Eso " master ordered Eso.
"But master why she should apologize...On the contrary they need to apologize for such behavior and even there is no need to apologize to such person whose attention is somewhere else...staring someone...." said Suho glaring at him.
Crown prince glared at Suho, and anyone can sense the jealousy in the air.
"But Master she is The Almighty Legendary Fighter," said Anne.
Once again, the murmur has been fueled, '.... she is that legendary fighter....', 'I told you guys...'
"I am sorry master, but I am not going to apologize because I don't think that I have done anything wrong." Eso replied back.
"Shut up Eso" master snapped back at her and slapped her hard across the face. After that everything went silent.
"Your Highness, I apologize to you for this act of foolishness, on the behalf of my student... and you follow me..." master glared at Eso.