Iris Knights

In the student council office, Sarahma sat in the president's chair, her face adorned with a gentle smile, the warmth of her presence filling the room like a gentle breeze.

"President, we've identified the person you've been looking for," said her female assistant, handing Sarahma a folder.

"Thank you." Sarahma's serene expression betrayed none of the wildness from a few nights ago. Her eyes shone with purity, their moist gleam captivating, as if nothing had happened. "It's only the first day of the semester, and we're already causing everyone such trouble. I'm really sorry."

"President, you don't need to be so polite." The assistant's gaze was filled with a kind of fascination, an unsettling sort of love that sent chills down one's spine.

In the student council office, almost everyone looked at Sarahma with the same odd mix of admiration and longing. Infatuation, perhaps, but there was something dark beneath it.

"Niya's magical companion, the Undead Warrior, once held off two fifth-tier mages simultaneously," Sarahma said, narrowing her eyes as she examined the document.

The armor matched the description, but the file indicated that the mysterious figure from the other night was a magical companion?

Could that be possible? A magical companion with speech and intelligence?

If it were true, then this companion's rank must be at least Royal-tier; otherwise, it wouldn't possess such sentience.

"Suddenly appearing beside Niya..." The report contained scant details about the Undead Warrior, mentioning only its abrupt and inexplicable arrival.

"Okay, understood. If there's no issue, please keep an eye on Niya's magical companion," Sarahma considered, "or perhaps it's best to leave it alone."

Who knew what kind of temperament it had? What if it realized it was being watched and caused trouble?

The report was sparse, focusing more on describing Niya's beauty than the Undead Warrior's characteristics. And who could blame them? Comments about her appearance were quite common...

"What a beautiful girl."

"I've decided she's my goddess."

"Who knew the outer academy had such a stunning girl? Even our president can't compare!"

"But that hulking metal monstrosity beside her really ruins the scene. So out of place."

These passing comments caused Niya's cheeks to flush slightly. She glanced at Yann from the corner of her eye, but he seemed oblivious, striding with unflinching confidence.

Yesterday, Euénie's warning had convinced Yann to stay close to Niya during the day. After all, who knew if someone from the inner academy might try something?

"Lovely lady, may I ask your name? I'm your senior, and my name is..." A strikingly handsome young man holding a book approached Niya with a smile.

"Swish!" A blade's edge greeted him.

The sharp steel pressed against his throat, and beads of cold sweat trickled down his neck.

Onlookers were stunned. Wasn't this overreacting? No words, just the immediate draw of a sword.

"Sir, you seem a bit too excited. I just wanted to ask her name," the young man said, glaring at Yann with a mix of resentment and hostility. His tone brimming with aggression.

Who could blame him? Anyone with a blade against their throat in public would likely react the same way.

"He's my magical companion," Niya explained. "Yann, lower the sword."

Yann nodded, sheathed his blade, and stood beside Niya, though his scarlet eyes never left the young man.

"Looks like the lady doesn't like me, what a disappointment. My name is Anger, and I was hoping we could..." Anger chuckled nonchalantly, but his eyes were filled with dark intent as he walked past Yann.

He wouldn't let this insult go. Confronting a magical companion might not be the wisest choice, but silently enduring it would severely damage his reputation.

Yann's left foot swiftly swept across the ground, aiming for Anger's ankle.

Anger, though a sixth-tier mage, had the physical resilience of an ordinary man, just slightly above average.

"I..." Anger began to speak, but then he felt his footing give way, and he tumbled forward, hitting the ground face-first, a textbook five-point landing.

It was the kind of fall you'd expect from a child, not a grown man. The contrast between expectation and reality made it both hilarious and tragic, causing onlookers to burst into laughter.

"Did Anger just fall?" someone in the crowd asked.

"Could it be the deputy captain of the Iris Knights, Anger?"

"What an embarrassment!"

"Did the magical companion trip him?"

"You're seeing things. I'm a fifth-tier warrior, and I didn't notice anything. Could a fifth-tier mage spot it?"

"Anger might not be physically strong, but he's the deputy captain of the Iris Knights. Offending him means offending the entire knights." People murmured among themselves, unable to suppress their laughter.

"Damn..." Anger growled, spitting out sand as he stood, glaring at Yann. His once pristine clothes were now smudged with dust and dirt, his previous air of sophistication blown away like clouds in the wind.

Anger began chanting a spell, his hands gathering magical energy.

He seemed willing to defy the academy's prohibition against using magic in public spaces. The indignity was too great to let go.

Yann wasn't about to give Anger time to cast his spell. He swiftly drew his one-and-a-half-handed sword, stepping forward with a deadly strike.

Yann's attack was fierce, showing no mercy, as if he intended to end this confrontation with lethal force.

"Deputy Captain Anger!" a voice cried from the crowd, followed by the sound of something slicing through the air.

A crossbow bolt streaked through the sky, its metallic sheen glinting with deadly precision.