CHAPTER 92: AMELIA’S SHADOWS

Chapter 92: Amelia’s Shadows

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The first day of another week carried a different weight than usual. The sun was the same, the classrooms unchanged, the bells ringing at the same hour. But inside Class 1-D’s wing, the mood had shifted. It was no longer just murmurs of low points or frustration about food. It was whispers directed toward a single person.

Amelia.

She entered her classroom as usual, posture perfect, boots clicking against the floor in steady rhythm, her armour pieces glistening. Her expression didn’t change when she saw the way students looked away from her the moment her gaze passed over them. She didn’t acknowledge the sudden silence, nor the way conversations restarted in low tones once she passed.

"Begin setting up your stations," she said in her usual clipped tone.

The students obeyed, but something was different. Desks near the front—normally filled by students eager to watch her demonstrations—were suddenly empty. Several students shifted themselves further back. No one wanted to be close, no one wanted to be ’sexually assaulted.’

A girl from the noble side of the class, Selene Crowndale, approached with a flask in her hands. She usually asked Amelia for clarification when her mixtures turned unstable. Today, she paused halfway, hesitated, and then turned back to ask another student instead.

Amelia noticed it, her eyes followed Selene for a moment, then returned to her notes without a single comment.

Lucy leaned toward Arios, whispering. "Why did she turn back? She always asks Amelia for help."

Liza, on Arios’s other side, scowled faintly. "Because of the rumors. They think she’s dangerous now."

Arios was already watching the pattern forming. Students were exchanging glances at her. A few boys nudged each other and snickered under their breaths. One whispered, not softly enough:

"She might snap and touch someone."

Amelia’s hand paused for half a second before continuing her chalk writing on the board. That was the only sign she had heard it.

****

By midday, Regulus Torvin’s voice was making its way across the room. He sat slouched at his desk, smirking faintly as he spoke to three other students gathered near him during a lecturer in class 1-C homeroom.

"I told you, didn’t I? She’s unstable. The academy pretends it’s a rumour, but really it’s just the truth. That’s why she lashed out at me. After she tried..." He lowered his voice dramatically, making sure others could lean in. "...to force herself on me. To touch me."

The students looked uncomfortable, but not enough to stop listening. Regulus leaned back, shrugging like he was the victim forced to bear the truth.

"I’m just saying, be careful. You never know what she might do if you’re alone with her. She’s good at hiding it, but you can see the cracks now."

The words spread faster than fire in dry grass. By the end of the period, even those who had ignored the rumors before began glancing toward Amelia with uneasy expressions.

In another part of the academy grounds, Chase Weaverake leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed. He watched the scenery with narrowed eyes, lips curling into a satisfied grin.

"Good, that’s the result," he muttered to himself. "Everything is going according to plan."

A nearby Class 1-B student asked, "You’re really going after Amelia that hard? What’s the point?"

Chase smirked. "The point is simple. She turned down my offer for co-operation. She thought she was too high to accept my offer. Now she learns what happens when you embarrass me. When you look down on a Weaverake."

He tilted his head toward Class 1-D’s corner. "Besides, this isn’t just about her. The more unstable their class looks, the better it is for everyone else. The student council doesn’t tolerate chaos. They’ll see 1-D as a problem that needs controlling. Simply putting it, that just means less competition for us."

The student gave a low whistle. "You’re playing dangerous games."

Chase chuckled. "Dangerous? No. Fun? Absolutely. I’ll enjoy watching her crumble."

****

By afternoon, the division was clear. Students were no longer whispering— they were outright avoiding Amelia. When she asked for volunteers to demonstrate a salve preparation, no one raised their hand. Normally half the class would compete for the opportunity. Today, silence filled the room.

Her gaze swept over the students, sharp as ever. "No one?"

The silence grew heavier. Some lowered their eyes. A few glanced at eachother, many smirked faintly at their seats.

Finally, Arios stood. "I’ll do it."

The room quickly shifted, as whispers started again, louder this time. Some students looked shocked, others quite irritated that someone dared normalize relations with Amelia. Arios ignored them all as he walked to the front. Amelia gave a brief nod.

Damn, Arios thought. Just brought some really unwanted attention.

Arios just didn’t know what came over him to volunteer. He stood there, his own words still hanging in the air, a silent question in his mind. Why? Even in his past life, he hated being an outlier. If everyone hated someone, he would join them to hate on that person, just to avoid being a target himself. He was a conformist, a person who blended into the crowd to survive. But now, he had stepped out of the shadows, and he was standing for Amelia.

His reasons were not clear, not even to him. On one hand, he told himself it was all a part of his plan. Chase wishes to use this rumours to consolidate his power even more, to show everyone that he was a force to be reckoned with. By siding with Amelia, Arios was acting against Chase, a subtle act of rebellion that would disrupt the plot and put him on the path to becoming the true protagonist of this world. It was a strategic move, a way to show that he wouldn’t be a pawn in someone else’s game.

But on another, more uncomfortable level, he felt a deeper, more primal motivation at play. The dual cultivation had done more than just strengthen his mana; it had forged an intimate, physical bond between them. It was a connection that went beyond the transactional nature of his strategic plans. His actions weren’t a result of a cold, calculated move, but of a genuine, almost instinctive desire to protect someone he had grown to care for. He was no longer just a spectator watching an anime; he was a participant with real emotions, and his feelings for Amelia were starting to take on a life of their own.

So this is how it feels, Arios thought. To start caring for others.

Afterwards the demonstration went smoothly. Arios followed her instructions perfectly, and when it was done, Amelia said, "Correct. You can now have your sit."

Her tone was the same as always, but Arios noticed the faintest flicker of something in her eyes— gratitude, masked behind professionalism.

Then,

When the final bell rang, students packed their bags quickly, rushing out as if eager to escape. Amelia gathered her notes slowly, deliberately. Arios, Lucy, and Liza lingered at their desks until the room was nearly empty.

Lucy finally spoke. "They’re being unfair. Can’t we tell them it’s not true?"

Amelia looked up, her expression still cold but her voice quieter than usual. "Rumors don’t die from denial. They die from proof. And right now, there is none."

Liza frowned. "So what? You’ll just let them treat you like this?"

Amelia’s eyes hardened. "I’ve endured worse. If the academy chooses to investigate, they’ll find nothing. Until then, I will continue to teach. Their whispers don’t matter."

But Arios saw the slight tremor in her hand as she closed her notebook. It mattered more than she admitted.

****

That evening, Chase stood outside the dormitory with a small group gathered around him. He spoke softly enough for the passing students not to hear.

"Mark my words," he said with a grin. "Amelia won’t last long. The academy doesn’t protect any staff who violates their principles. This is just the beginning."

Someone who was truly intrigued and a stern admirer of Chase asked, "Why are you so sure?"

Chase’s grin widened. "Because this is what happens when you spit on generosity. She thought she could mock me. She thought she could reject a Weaverake. But every piece on this board moves where I want it to. Soon the student council will be forced to step in. Class 1-D will look even worse. And I’ll be laughing at the pieces falling into place."

He leaned back against the wall, looking completely at ease. "Revenge, gentlemen, is best served slow."

The shadows around Amelia had only begun to form.