Chapter 48 - The Dinner (2)

This was ridiculous.

I was a professor. A noble. And yet here I was... second-guessing my posture, double-checking the reservation, and wondering—for the hundredth time—if this was a mistake.

No. It wasn’t.

You have to do this. You owe him at least this much.

I watched as he entered

La Viore

, his eyes wide, posture stiff, doing everything he could to blend into a place clearly out of his comfort zone.

Black blazer. White shirt. Clean boots. Hair... decently styled.

He actually tried.

He took this seriously.

Something about that made a part of me pause—

not sentimentally

, but...

humanly

. I reminded myself:

This is not personal. Just necessary.

He followed me without question, and we were led to our booth. I watched him fidget as we sat, awkward, uncertain.

When I told him to order anything he wanted, he looked at me like I’d said something absurd.

"Really?"

"Consider it... my treat."

I meant it.

Then we ordered.

"I’ll have the Flame-Seared Celestial Steak," he said.

"Flame-Seared Celestial Steak," I echoed.

We blinked. Eyes met.

"...Seriously?" he asked.

"It’s my favorite here."

"It’s... kind of famous where I’m from," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

A pause. I let a small smile slip, just briefly.

The waiter left.

There was a beat of silence.

The music helped fill the air, but I felt the tension in my own shoulders still lingering. This... wasn’t easy. I wasn’t good at things like this. Social gestures. Gratitude. Talking like a person and not a superior.

But this time, it was necessary.

When the food arrived, he laughed.

"I forgot."

I looked up, surprised at the sound.

When was the last time I heard him laugh? ...No. When was the last time I let myself notice something like that?

"You laughed," I said before I could stop myself. "You don’t do that often."

"I—I do! Sometimes."

"Not in class."

"Yeah well, class isn’t exactly ’laugh-worthy.’"

I let that pass with a small smirk. "Fair."

Then I set my utensils down.

It was time.

"The reason I invited you here," I began slowly, watching his face. "I want to thank you."

His expression froze.

Good. That meant he didn’t expect it. That it would matter.

"For the dungeon. For saving your teammates. For thinking clearly under pressure."

I hesitated... but this part needed to be said.

This part was the reason we were even here.

"But more importantly... you trusted me."

Even when no one else did.

Do you even understand what that meant?

My hands had trembled that day—not from fear, but

powerlessness

. I couldn’t speak up. I didn’t

deserve

to,

not in that state. I had no defense. Just silence and suspicion.

"When no one else did—when I was practically being branded a traitor and didn’t even have the strength to defend myself... you still chose to believe in me."

And then...

"And then, you didn’t just talk. You acted. You saved everyone. Including me."

I said it simply. But the weight of those words—it was still inside me.

He didn’t save just my life. He saved the one thing I had built all these years—my name. My standing. My place at this academy.

I don’t care what it makes me look like. I needed to say this. I needed him to know.

He didn’t answer.

"Don’t get used to it," I added quickly, hiding the slight sting of saying all that aloud. It was real—but I couldn’t afford to linger in that vulnerability.

"R-Right! Of course. Just... once in a lifetime kind of thing."

"You’re terrible at taking compliments."

"I’m worse at formal dinners."

We both chuckled. Tension broke. The moment softened.

Finally.

But I wasn’t finished.

I looked up at him again, calmly this time—but I was careful with how I phrased it. Or... I

thought

I was.

"Of course....Dinner isn’t enough of a thank-you."

He blinked. "Eh?"

"You didn’t just save my life. You saved my reputation. In front of the entire academy. When it mattered most."

That mattered more than he could ever understand.

Once your name is marked in places like this, it doesn’t wash away. I would have died branded as a traitor affecting my entire family.

"So—" I leaned forward slightly, "—speak. Is there something you want from me?"

And then—I heard it.

The clink. The silence.And my brain finally caught up with my mouth.

Gods.

What did I just say like that?!

He stared at me wide-eyed, and I could

feel

the blood rush to my ears.

"...Within reason, of course."

I quickly straightened, correcting myself with all the poise I could muster.

"I meant it professionally."

"I—I didn’t think anything weird! I mean, I wasn’t going to ask for—"

He flailed. I stayed quiet.

We were both fools in this moment.

But... somehow, it wasn’t unpleasant.

Then—

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here?"

That voice.

My face cooled instantly. Spine straightened.

*****

I looked up slowly from my half-finished plate.

And there she was.

A woman stood near our table, draped in high-sorceress robes far too flamboyant for casual dining. Her black-red velvet sleeves flared with enchanted embroidery, and her smirk... that alone could curdle wine. She had that kind of aura—poised, venomous, and absolutely sure she was better than everyone else in the room.

Trouble.

She looked like it. She breathed it.

And judging by the way Seraphina’s face soured instantly beside me, I wasn’t wrong.

The woman’s voice cut through the ambient music like a jagged curse.

"What are you celebrating here, you bitch?"

I blinked.

Did she just—?

Seraphina didn’t reply, but her knuckles had gone white against her wine glass.

Then the woman’s gaze slid to me—slow, assessing. Her lip curled.

"And what do we have here? I didn’t know you were into younger men now."

Seraphina looked visibly uncomfortable, not knowing what to do, not wanting to cause a scene.

Okay. That’s enough.

The atmosphere was so good.

I calmly set my fork down, wiped my mouth, and stood up with a pleasant smile—just polite enough to not cause a scene, just firm enough to make a point.

"Ma’am," I said with perfect courtesy, "if you’re not here for your own reservation, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to let us enjoy ours."

Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

I nodded toward the uniformed staff at the edge of the dining room. One had already noticed the disruption—these places prided themselves on ’atmospheric consistency.’

)

I gave him a small wave. "Could you help us here, please?"

The server appeared like magic—

literally

—within seconds.

"Madam," he said with a slight bow, voice honey-smooth but firm, "we kindly request guests not disturb other diners. If you don’t have a reservation, please step away from the table."

The woman’s lips thinned. Her gaze flicked between me, Seraphina, and the server—then she scoffed and turned sharply, her heels clicking with far more venom than elegance.

She disappeared out the door with one last dramatic sweep of her cloak.

Silence returned.

I exhaled and slowly sat down.

Seraphina was still staring at me.

"...What?" I asked.

She blinked. Then, to my shock, she let out the faintest breath of a laugh.

"I didn’t know you had it in you."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Neither did I."

But the mood had been broken. The warmth that had built up between us over candlelight and awkward smiles was gone—like someone had dumped cold water over a gently crackling fire.

We both stared at our plates.

Neither of us lifted our forks again.

Seraphina sighed softly.

"Let’s go. I’ll treat you some other time."

I nodded. "Yeah... I don’t think I can enjoy that steak anymore."

We stood. The server tried to apologize. Seraphina waved him off with grace, thanked him professionally, and we stepped back out into the night.

The wind had picked up a little.

We walked side by side, quietly.

After a few moments, I hesitated—then finally asked:

"...Who was that, Professor?"

She didn’t answer immediately.

Then—

"Just someone from the Magic Tower."

Her tone was clipped. But then, she sighed again—like the words had been waiting to come out all night.

"The opening of Beastridge Mountain is a major event. It doesn’t just concern the Academy. The major powers—Knight Orders, the Church, the Magic Tower... they all have quotas. Limited slots. And the competition for those slots is brutal."

She paused.

"This year, I was selected to represent the Tower."

I raised a brow, already sensing the pattern. "Let me guess..."

"She was your competition."

"And she wasn’t selected."

"So she got jealous."

Seraphina said nothing at first. Then finally, a simple nod.

"Something like that."

We continued walking.

My thoughts churned.

Beastridge Mountain’s opening... this was a fixed event in the game. The Academy always had a set number of students. The Tower too. But now Seraphina was involved? That didn’t happen before.

In the game timeline, she

wasn’t

selected.

And no one really questioned why. The forums had a few obscure threads about it—half-suspecting politics or internal sabotage. But since it didn’t involve Aiden’s route, most players ignored it.

But now... she was selected.

And everything was different.

Then Seraphina exhaled again, breaking the tension.

"Let’s leave the unpleasant matters aside."

She turned to me with a small, tired smile.

"Tell me, Luca. You didn’t answer before.Tell me what do you want?"

I blinked.

Then, slowly—my eyes lit up.

I knew what I wanted now.