NOVEL WEB Chapter 23: The First Taste of Fear
The doorbell chimed at precisely 11:03 PM, a sharp, intrusive sound that sliced through the heavy silence of my temporary inn room. I glanced up from the mountain of silk pillows on my ridiculously large king-sized bed, a flicker of irritation crossing my face. The adrenaline from the trials had finally worn off, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion and the phantom ache of virtual wounds. I had just begun to sink into the quiet solitude, and now this. Who in the hells would be calling on me at this hour?
"Enter," I called out, my voice flat and laced with weariness, not bothering to get up.
The door creaked open to reveal a young maid, her body trembling so hard the polished silver tray she was clutching rattled softly. She had mousy, chestnut hair tied back in a bun so tight it looked painful, and her eyes, wide with a mixture of awe and sheer terror, were fixed on the floor.
"G-Good evening, Master Crimson!" she stammered, thrusting the tray forward as if offering a sacrifice to a dragon. "I'm Masha, your newly assigned personal attendant!"
On the tray, three items rested on a bed of plush black velvet, each one a symbol of my new, unwanted status. There was a sleek, platinum wristwatch whose face shimmered with faint, pulsing runes—the official timepiece and communication device for top-ranking students. Beside it lay a stack of neatly folded black uniforms, the fabric so fine it seemed to drink the candlelight, bearing the golden insignia of Class 1A. And finally, there was a single, blood-red badge, intricately carved from a solidified mana crystal into the shape of the number "1." It seemed to pulse with a faint, malevolent light of its own.
I arched an eyebrow, my gaze lingering on the trembling girl. "And what exactly," I drawled, "does a 'personal attendant' do?"
Masha's cheeks flushed a deep, frantic crimson. "A-Appropriate services, my lord! Laundry, the preparation of meals, message delivery, the maintenance of your quarters, scheduling—"
"So you'll be washing my underwear then?" I smirked, enjoying the way her eyes widened in horror as she nearly dropped the entire tray. "Excellent. I hate doing laundry."
She fled before I could tease her further, leaving the tray on a nearby table and scurrying out of the room as if the hounds of hell were at her heels. She didn't even close the door properly behind her.
[System: You're a special kind of terrible.]
[Me: I know.]
Next Morning - Class 1A
I arrived precisely ten minutes late, a calculated act of defiance and a small test of my new standing. The guard who'd stopped me at the Grand Hall yesterday, the one with the prancing unicorn insignia, merely bowed his head as I approached, his face a mask of nervous respect. He didn't even make eye contact.
"Good boy," I murmured, patting his helmet condescendingly as I strode past. Fear was a wonderfully efficient tool.
Before entering the classroom, I paused to look at the massive, enchanted rankings board that dominated the corridor wall. The names of the top 100 students shimmered in golden light, a public declaration of power and prestige. My name was at the very top, a shining beacon that drew the eyes of every student who passed.
Ashen Crimson
Nyx Voxx
Rin Elvareth
Cecilia Thorne
Seraphina Loire
Liora Nowa
Noora Whitehound Need character sheets and glossaries? Visit MV^LEM^PYR.
Eren Whitehound
...
[Some NPC I didn't care about]
My eyes scanned the list, a flicker of satisfaction running through me. Then I looked for her name. Aurelia. It wasn't there.
[System: She placed 21st. Barely made it into Class 1B. A consequence of her early elimination, for which you are partially responsible.]
[Me: Weak.] The thought was cold, automatic. A defense mechanism. It was easier to dismiss her as weak than to acknowledge the pang of guilt for having used her as bait.
I kicked the door open.
The low murmur of the classroom fell silent. Professor Vael, who had been in the middle of a sentence, stopped and adjusted his spectacles, his gaze pinning me with a familiar, weary annoyance. He looked like a man who had seen too many arrogant nobles in his lifetime and was profoundly tired of all of them.
"Problem #3, Mr. Crimson," he said, his voice dripping with a sarcasm so dry it could start a fire. "Since you're so... exceptional, perhaps you can enlighten the class."
The blackboard behind him, a slab of polished obsidian, displayed a Tier-4 runic array. It was a "Bastion Shield," a defensive structure of such complexity that even most senior students would struggle to comprehend it, let alone modify it. It was a web of interlocking glyphs, concentric mana channels, and delicate resonance nodes, all designed to create a near-impenetrable defensive barrier. It was also, I noted with a flicker of amusement, flawed.
I smirked.
Shadow Quill Technique Activated.
My own shadow stretched from my feet, elongating and sharpening into a long, inky stylus that hovered over the board. The other students gasped, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination. Where the original diagram had three stabilizing runes and two primary mana channels—a standard but inefficient design—my shadow quill began to deconstruct and redraw the entire structure with a terrifying, elegant efficiency.
I erased the stabilizing runes, replacing them with five amplifier nodes, strategically placed to absorb and redirect kinetic energy rather than just block it. I rewove the mana channels into a feedback loop, a heretical design that would turn the passive shield into a reactive, explosive weapon. Anyone who struck it would have the force of their own attack hurled back at them, amplified.
The array on the board began to pulse with a malevolent, crimson light, the air in the room growing thick and heavy.
Vael's face paled, his academic curiosity turning to genuine alarm. "STOP—"
BOOM.
The explosion was contained, precise. It vaporized only the blackboard, leaving the wall behind it completely untouched. It was a perfect, controlled demonstration of energy redirection, a silent, arrogant boast of my power and understanding.
Silence. The entire class stared, their mouths agape. Even Nyx looked momentarily surprised, her crimson eyes narrowed in thought.
I dusted off my hands, my shadow retreating back to my feet as if nothing had happened. "Next question?"
That evening, I sat in my new, ridiculously opulent dorm room, a suite that came with the Rank 1 title. It was larger than my entire apartment back on Earth, with a four-poster bed, a private study, and a balcony that overlooked the academy's moonlit gardens. Masha delivered dinner while pointedly avoiding eye contact, her earlier terror having morphed into a kind of grudging, professional respect. She was efficient, silent, and kept a healthy distance. Perfect.
My new watch chimed softly on the nightstand, its runic display glowing in the dim light.
[5 DAYS REMAINING: THE LIGHTNING TYRANT'S TRIAL]
Beside it, the blood-red "#1" badge gleamed like a drop of fresh blood on snow.
They feared me.
Good.