As the mind-bending results of Mithras' team spread like wildfire, making their way to the influential figures of the Purple Dawn, a certain blue-haired woman sat in front of a tall glass mirror, seeking all potential imperfections in her looks and attire.
"He's coming today. He will be here for the New Year Ceremony, if he's not already. Hateful...what am I supposed to say? How to receive him?" Headmistress Achai's thoughts were all over the place.
Regaining control of her body was no doubt a welcomed change. But now that she was once more responsible for her actions, she had to answer the various crimes that Sucuria made her commit. And there were many.
One could argue that since the Headmistress wasn't in control, she couldn't be held accountable for those crimes. But life doesn't work like that. Life...is about accountability--especially since the wronged parties might not necessarily care about your circumstances.
Accountability is a fine devil, and with the Astalon among the victims of Sucuria's various evil plots, Suri was convinced she'd have to face Mithras' wrath eventually—a prospect as alluring as terrifying.
The current Mithras was an entity that even the likes of Akamana had to treat with courtesy. If he came with grudges to settle, how was Suri, a Golden Palace templar, supposed to handle him? Would a cleavage squeeze be fine? Not likely! But as the Headmistress' wild thoughts trailed off...
'Lady Achai, she's here! The Grand Priestess is here! She...she says she is taking control of the Sid Department and wants you to focus on cleaning up Sucuria's mess. Meanwhile, she will be dealing with the Prince of Astalon!' A Guru intern contacted Suri out of the blue, warning her of Akamana's orders.
Suri was Elektra's subordinate, in no way obliged to follow Akamana's will. Sadly, this only works in theory. In practice, the Mainyu Archipelago didn't have three people who could defy Akamana's will without losing their heads, and Suri didn't belong to that exclusive list.
At the moment...at least.
'Very well. Grand Priestess, I'm looking forward to your performance. Though don't be surprised if you end up burning yourself...again.' Suri kept this thought to herself, following Akamana's directives regardless.
Meanwhile, Mithras and gang waltzed into a colossal amphitheater large enough to host over 20,000. No, what amphitheater? The crystalline dome above, the stages and podiums below, from the decorations to the building's name and external appearance, it all felt like an amphitheater, but with the scope of it all made the onlookers feel as if they'd walked into a new-age colosseum.
It's therefore not surprising that the local students renamed it...the Colosseum!
Thousands awaited inside already, more following at an alarming speed and filling the premium seats in droves.
The moment Mithras' crew walked in, however, all students paused and shifted, eyes locking on the procession of herculean and divine figures that surrounded the Prince of Astalon.
All recognized him without fail, a good chunk looking at him with awe and adoration while the rest choked on a diet of rage and envy.
How they felt about it didn't matter. Mithras was the savior, savior and lord of Springtime City, making his status in the citizens' hearts akin to an idol or demigod. How could such a meteoric rise to the top satisfy the aristocratic thugs in the crowd?
Akamana liked that answer, her eyes flashing with untold mischief as she twirled with a mildly psychotic look.
"Be careful what you ask...or you might find yourself with much more than you bargained for," Akamana clapped back, the chill in her voice making the males in the audience forget her physical appeal to shiver at the implications of her words.
First impression: the new chair is a mad lass!
This was the thought going through the students' minds, Mithras' crew included. Only Mithras looked entertained, amused by how far Mana was willing to go to mess with him.
It was almost endearing...almost.
Two hours passed in a flash, with Mana going over the Academy's rules, expectations, key facilities and the like, sharing with the students all they needed to know to get started. The new blood listened with rapt attention. But even the returning crew stayed locked in, drinking Mana's words as if it was a world-class idol, not an academy professor, standing before them.
The Academy's professors were usually charismatic and commanding folks, but even a fool could tell that this one was special--bringing with her a baggage of chaos.
The New Year Introduction ended in a flash, and as the crowd moved on to indulge in the actual ceremony, Mithras stayed behind, alone facing Mana in the immensity of the Colosseum. The gang awaited outside, naturally not about to ditch their boss for fun.
"Nice performance. Though a bit forced and clingy...I appreciate the intent," Mithras said, still comfy in his seat, and staring at Mana from a higher vantage point. The Grand Priestess didn't like that, walking up the stairs and sitting cross-legged on Mithras' table to face her cutie pie on the same level.
"You know your compliments always put a smile on my face. But on this occasion, I was being dead serious. Because cutie pie, though I can't help but mess with you. I'm not even close to the top ten reasons why this year is about to be real tough on you.
Let me venture a guess...your Blood Potency is rising at a rate of about 1,000 years per day. Probably a bit more than that, right?" Akamana asked in a rhetorical tone, the accuracy of her probe taking Mithras by surprise.
"1,200. How did you find out?" It was indeed unexpected. Though the world saw Mithras decimate the first generation, only he could tell his body's actual absorption speed. So how did Mana figure it out so easily? And if she could...what about the elders and ancients of the Blood Aristocracy?
"Math. The answer is plain old math. When you consider how much you got from each Fylkir that day, plus the history tied to the Decimation Skill, it's not hard to picture how fast you will be growing. And if I can tell...of course the bloodsuckers can as well.
They will be restless...relentless in their drive to hunt you down and either seduce or destroy you before you annihilate them. It's a race for survival...so cutie pie...how dare you be so calm?
Your school year...is about to get fucked up by your old man's pack. If your old man doesn't ruin it first by himself. So to enjoy your student life in peace, it seems to me..." here, Akamana leaned in, her red lips pushing dangerously close to Mithras as she breathed into his face:
"Seems...that you need me now more than ever."