-Pale Fangs dorm-

Following her departure from the academy, Eunice now stood before the doors of the Pale Fangs dorm building, holding a small folded letter in her arms. After giving the door a few firm knocks, Simeon, dressed in a brown coat, slowly pulled the door open, expressing noticeable surprise to see his colleague within this particular vicinity.

“Ah, Eunice, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to leave a letter,” she responded. “I thought it would be a good idea to let your students know.”

“Well, you came at the right time,” he smiled, opening the door fully. “We’ve just finished our meeting. Come on in.”

“Many thanks.”

Having already been at the three dorms, Eunice already had a sort of expectancy of how the interior, similar to the others would look like. However, the atmosphere was far from what she could imagine.

It was a mixture of warm friendliness heavily tinged by a sense of superiority, or better put, sacredness that seemingly came from two individuals sitting on a single couch amidst the living room.

The one sitting on the left was a beautiful slender lady, draped in a form-fitting black turtleneck that contrasted sharply against her short-trimmed white hair. Next to her, a young gentleman with a chiseled face and curly gray hair, dressed in a black robe, was seated with his arms crossed. Whilst Eunice surmised that they both were the source of this feeling of sacredness, as soon as the young man raised his head and meet her eyes, she was convinced he had to be the cause of this sensation.

Nevertheless, she stepped inside their vicinity with a sense of professionalism. Speaking with a friendly and clear tone.

“Good day, students!”

Simeon, who still stood at the door, was then approached by another gentleman; a noticeably slim, handsome young man, who had his golden-blonde hair put in a ponytail, and was dressed in a black waistcoat.

He spread his right arm in the air as he looked at Simeon with a puzzled face.

“…Simeon? What is happening?”

“This is Eunice,” he responded, sighing. “Assuming you all are aware that she is mastering Flock of Veils, I think she needs no introduction.”

After making prompt eye contact with the blonde-haired man, she turned back to the others who were all seated on the couches.

“I’ve come here to announce a rather small change concerning the current training period. Has everything gone well so far?”

“We’ve been doing good,” the blonde-haired man responded, crossing his arms as he smiled. “Since today will be a lot more practical, it will be safe to bet that Emory won’t be falling asleep during classes anymore.”

Next to the blonde-haired man was a couch on which another young man was seated. He had short-trimmed hair of dark blonde hue, and was dressed in a brown waistcoat that outlined his slim but muscular frame quite well.

He leaned his head backwards, yawning as he responded.

“Can you blame me for it, though? That shit was so boring, it could feed off my brain. I’m a doe-er, not a think-er.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely not a thinker. Lectures such as these are just too high leveled for that block brain of yours,” a beautiful young lady seated next to him jested. She looked very similar to the other lady dressed in her black turtleneck. The only difference was in how she dressed; a loose white blouse under a beige vest.

“Very funny, Madeline,” Emory sighed. “All I need is something that’ll entertain me during the classes and I won’t be dozing off anymore.”

“Entertaining, you say?” she pondered, resting her arm on the back support, her face turning contemplative. “What was his name again… Vaelen, right? Was he not entertaining?”

Emory ticked his tongue as he frowned.

“That pretty face? He pissed me off more than actually being entertaining. One of those religious holier than thy bastards. Ticks me off so much.”

“Watch your language, Emory,” Simeone sounded from the threshold before turning back to Eunice. “Anyway, Eunice, the message?”

“…Yes. It has been decided that all three groups will be joining each other’s company in the grand hall on the fifth and last day of the training procedure. Required attendance will be at eleven in the morning. So be aware that the differences in times won’t be necessary on that day.”

“The fifth day?” the blonde haired young man asked. “What about the temple students? Aren’t they supposed to return to the Inquisition tomorrow?”

“They will—yes—but they won’t be using the grand hall,” Eunice responded. “It’s been a little stressful juggling with finding adequate teaching grounds for the sake of the Inquisition, but we’re aware of this matter.”

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“Alright, then,” Simeon sounded. “Has everyone heard what she said? We’ll be in the same space as the other two groups at eleven in the morning on the fifth day of the training procedure. Do any of you need this written down?”

His question was met with an awkward silence.

“…I guess not.”

“That is all I had to say. If you’ll excuse me,” Eunice said, walking back towards the door as Simeon stepped out of the way. Right before she raised her hand towards the door handle, the young blonde-haired man intervened.

“Parden me, Eunice, Simeon, I have a question.”

“What is it, Albert?” Simeon asked.

“…The first group, Jormungandr, how is their situation going along?”

The other students slightly squinted their eyes as soon as they heard Albert’s query. Eagerly listening along to what Eunice had to say in silence.

However, Simeon took the word.

“…It appears that their fifth member has recuperated.”

“…And” Albert asked, tilting his head.

“His circumstance is still being investigated by the office,” Eunice added nervously. “We’re seeking as many answers as we can to resolve this.”

Albert let out a deep sigh, frowning slightly.

“It’s starting to get a little sluggish, don’t you think? For what reason may he still participate in these events? Perhaps Vash should be questioned, also.”

“We’re trying our best, Albert,” Simeon retorted. “We may be your Masters, but it is the Administrative Office that holds the most power within the temple. If they decide to leave him to participate in the Inquisition, there’s little what we can do.”

Emory crossed his arms as he stared into the distance, asking with a curious tone.

“…What was his name again?”

“Caelum,” Madeline said. “Caelum Jinton. Apparently, both he and Vaelen are the biological sons of Emon Moreau of Luria.”

“No wonder that pretty face acts so extraordinary,” Emory responded. “The same must go for his brother, then.”

“Who knows?” she smiled. “Maybe he’s not, and is more of a delinquent than you are. Perhaps it’d be a good idea to find more about him.”

“Well, there’s definitely something going on with the whole administration team. I get the sense that he’s being protected by someone, or a group,” Emory sighed. “Talk about a privileged rich kid who doesn’t know shit but still gets what he wants.”

The silver haired young man finally spoke, his ‘leader-like’ voice making everyone present turn towards him.

“There is undoubtedly something revolving around that fellow.”

He then turned towards Emory.

“Could you find more about him for us, Emory?”

“…Of course, August,” he smiled. “I’ll make him spill out the truth. One way or another.”

“Now, now…” Madeline protested. “No need to get aggressive right off the bat. Take it easy at first; greet him, introduce yourself, engage in playful chatter. The usual. It’ll take you a lot further than trying to get rough first try.”

“We don’t know him yet,” Emory chuckled. “Would be great if the brat is an actual dick like I am. He could serve as a good punching bag.”

The lady dressed in her black turtleneck also finally spoke. Frowningly closing her eyes as she responded to the rebellious Emory.

“I would advise against displaying unrestrained conduct. We are still amidst the training procedure; Therefore, we are more at the mercy of our supervisors as opposed to the actual Inquisition.”

“Rowena’s got a point,” Madeline smiled. “Might be better to stay cool for a bit and go all out when stuff start to hit the fan. I believe our classes of today happen at around the same time as well, so you’re in luck.”

Emory leaned his head back against the back support, irritatingly ticking his tongue.

***

-Gaian Administrative Office Temple-

Standing on a wide stone balcony that overlooked a beautiful shore, was Phineas, dressed in a white blouse, and Michel, the masked man who was draped in his usual black coat. Their clothes danced along the wind pressure seeping through their figures as they beheld the picturesque view in silence.

At some point, footsteps could be heard from the hollowed interior behind. Knowing who this already was, Phineas, keeping his gaze forward, asked with a confident tone after the person came close enough.

“How has it gone, Vash?”

“He is exceptional at adapting, I must say,” he responded, keeping a respectful five steps distance between him and Michel. “Have you managed to speak with the Ritual Master?”

“I have, yes. We came to a consensus that there was not a specific rule regarding the summoning of two separate Grimoires. It was quite challenging since the Ritual Master was someone who served the temple for quite some time, but thankfully, it worked out in the end.”

“That is perfect…” Vash smiled, lowering his head. “I assume we’ll be having a meeting with the other two Masters regarding this case, then?”

“Send my word to them. A meeting won’t be necessary.”

“…Okay, I will do my best.”

As if mustering up every ounce of courage he had left in his body, he glanced at Michel’s back, which was enough for him to start feeling as if he was on the verge of collapsing on the ground. He gulped, and took several seconds before he could safely sound his words smoothly.

“Also, I… want to thank the both of you again for this opportunity…”

However, Phineas was not gracious as this moment. With a firm tone, he told Vash to dismiss himself. Not bothering to make eye contact whatsoever. With a respectful gesture of placing his hand against the left side of his chest, Vash departed from the balcony.

It appeared that Phineas wanted to have all the poignant moments he could have whilst sharing a short time with the ominous masked man, who seemed to be entranced by the shore view. Phineas nervously turned his head towards him, and spoke with absolute loyalty.

“…I must say, Michel, no matter how obscure your requests may be, I won’t question them. You handing me the throne of Luria by killing off Emon is more than enough reason I need to oblige with whatever you want me to do.”

With a calm, and collected tone, Michel responded to him.

“Thank you, Phineas. Your help is much appreciated.”