The academy buzzed with life the next morning. Students rushed through the halls, clutching spellbooks and hastily scrawled notes as if their lives depended on it—which, in a school this dramatic, they might. Sylas strolled through the chaos like a man who had all the time in the world, his new skill card still fresh in his mind.
[Adaptive Persona]
You can now mimic emotions, behaviors, and personalities with uncanny precision. Use wisely—or don't. You're a villain, not a saint.
Sylas frowned at the last line. The system clearly hadn't gotten the memo: he wasn't exactly aiming for world domination. At least, not yet.
"Vermund!"
He turned just in time to see Professor Arkwright storming toward him, robes billowing like a sentient thundercloud. The man's face was a mask of barely contained fury, and Sylas instinctively straightened.
"Good morning, Professor," Sylas greeted, his voice syrupy sweet. "Lovely day for an academic inquisition, isn't it?"
Arkwright didn't slow down. "My office. Now."
Sylas bit back a groan. Whatever this was about, it couldn't be good.
Arkwright's office was cluttered in the way only a genius's workspace could be—papers strewn across every surface, ink stains on the floor, and a faint smell of burnt parchment lingering in the air. Sylas took a seat without being asked, slouching just enough to look disinterested.
Arkwright glared at him over the rim of his spectacles. "Do you know why you're here?"
Sylas shrugged. "Enlighten me."
The professor slammed a stack of papers onto the desk. "Your last spellwork analysis. It was... exceptional."
Sylas blinked. "Come again?"
"Exceptional," Arkwright repeated, though his tone was more accusatory than complimentary. "Too exceptional. Advanced rune theory, seamless mana threading—it's almost as if you've been... cheating."
Sylas's mind raced. The old Sylas Vermund hadn't been known for his academic prowess, so his sudden competence was bound to raise eyebrows.
He leaned forward, adopting an expression of mock offense. "Professor, are you implying that I—a humble, hardworking student—would stoop to such lowly tactics?"
"I'm implying," Arkwright said sharply, "that you've shown a suspicious leap in skill. One that doesn't match your previous work."
Sylas clasped his hands together. "Or perhaps I've simply discovered my latent potential. A tragic underdog story waiting to unfold."
Arkwright's frown deepened. "Cut the theatrics, Vermund. If you've been using unauthorized means to enhance your work, I will find out."
Sylas smirked. "By all means, Professor. Investigate away."
The confrontation left Sylas more amused than worried. Arkwright's suspicion was a nuisance, but it wasn't exactly unexpected. Still, it was a reminder: he needed to tread carefully.
Back in his dorm, Sylas flopped onto his bed and summoned the system window again.
"Hey, you," he muttered. "Care to explain why I'm suddenly a magical prodigy?"
[SYSTEM: Progressing Player Narrative]
Your skills align with your character development. Keep pretending to know what you're doing—it's working.
"Comforting."
Another notification popped up before Sylas could stew further.
[NEW QUEST: Unveil the Veiled]
A mysterious figure has been seen sneaking into the restricted library at night. Investigate before your rival does.
Sylas sat up, interest piqued. "A mystery, huh? Finally, something fun."
He grabbed his coat and headed out.
The restricted library was a labyrinth of towering shelves and arcane tomes, guarded by wards and watched over by an ever-vigilant librarian. Sylas slipped past the main hall, sticking to the shadows like a second skin.
The figure in question appeared at the far end of the library—a cloaked individual rifling through books with frantic energy. They were too small to be Arkwright or any other professor. A student, perhaps?
Sylas crept closer, staying silent. His hand brushed the hilt of his dagger—more for show than necessity.l
As he rounded the final shelf, the figure froze.
"Who's there?"
Sylas stepped into the faint glow of a mana lamp, his smirk firmly in place. "Just a concerned citizen wondering what you're up to."
The figure turned, pulling back their hood.
It was Vivienne.
Vivienne's eyes narrowed as she took in Sylas's presence. "You're not supposed to be here."
Sylas raised a brow. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing."
The system chimed gleefully:
[BONUS OBJECTIVE: Keep Vivienne from killing you. Good luck.]