Chapter 2: Beneath Twin Moons— Where Storms Begin Quietly
The room was vast.
Bookshelves lined every wall from floor to ceiling, packed tightly with tomes both ancient and modern. Some glowed faintly with enchantments, others bore scars of age—burned edges, cracked spines, seals long broken.
At the center stood a wide table, almost buried beneath scattered documents, sealed letters, reports, and hastily scribbled notes. Some were neatly stacked. Others clearly weren't.
Beyond the tall window, the night sky stretched endlessly.
Two moons hung high above the world.
One pale silver.The other faintly blue.
Behind the table, seated in a high-backed chair, was a woman who commanded the room without effort.
Long crimson hair fell freely down her back, untouched by gray despite her apparent age. Her face suggested a woman in her mid-forties—sharp eyes, composed features—but anyone who knew her understood that appearances meant nothing.
She wore a white uniform adorned with gold highlights, the fabric pristine, the design unmistakably imperial.
Royal.Wealthy.Unyielding.
Her left sleeve, however, was empty.
Missing an arm.
Her name was Cecil Ashborn.
Headmaster of the Imperial Academy of Aurethia.
And one of the four Calamity-Class Adventurers known to the world.
She flipped through a report with a bored expression.
"…Another dungeon outbreak," she muttered. "How tedious."
A knock echoed through the room.
"Enter," Cecil said without looking up.
The door opened.
A woman stepped inside, her presence professional, posture straight.
She looked to be in her early thirties, sharing many of Cecil's features—sharp eyes, crimson hair—though softer, more restrained. Unlike Cecil's gold-trimmed uniform, hers was white with red highlights, marking her as faculty rather than authority.
She still had both arms.
"Greetings, Headmaster," the woman said formally.
Cecil looked up.
Her expression collapsed instantly.
Jane Ashborn had arrived.
Cecil sighed deeply.
"Jane," she said, resting her chin in her hand. "How many times must I tell you? When we're alone, call me Mother. 'Headmaster' makes me sound old."
Jane pinched the bridge of her nose.
"And how many times must I tell you," she replied evenly, "that I cannot do that while I'm on duty?"
She gestured subtly around the room.
"Those noble families are already desperate for any excuse to remove you from your position. The fact that someone not from the noble faction sits at the top of the Imperial Academy already irritates them beyond reason."
Cecil huffed.
"They can try whatever they want," she said flatly. "They won't touch me. Or my family."
For a brief moment—
Her eyes glowed.
Power rippled through the room, subtle but overwhelming.
Jane felt it instantly.
A reminder.
The woman before her wasn't just a headmaster.
She was a calamity.
Unless the nobles—and even the king himself—had a death wish, they wouldn't dare move against her directly.
Jane sighed.
"Just… don't start another scene," she said. "It was bad enough last time."
Cecil scoffed.
"That was his fault."
She crossed her arms—well, arm.
"That old geezer tried to marry his son to your daughter. That overweight pig. I won't hand my granddaughter over to him. Hmph."
She puffed her cheeks in a childish pout.
Jane sighed again—though this time, there was a faint smile.
"…Thank you, Mother," she murmured quietly.
Cecil heard it anyway.
"You're welcome."
Jane straightened.
"Back to work," she said firmly.
Cecil groaned."Way to ruin the moment."
Jane continued regardless.
"Tomorrow, delegates from multiple nations will arrive for the opening ceremony. First-year admissions, class allocation trials, and the Trial Tournament for third-year students."
She paused.
"Even the Four Guardian Families will be sending representatives. Their children will participate in the first-year trials this year."
Cecil's eyes sharpened.
"That many important guests…" she muttered.
Jane nodded.
"I contacted the Adventurer Guild. Requested A-Class or higher adventurers for security. They're short-staffed due to recent dungeon outbreaks."
She exhaled.
"We've assigned elite fourth-year students as guards, but… it won't be enough."
Cecil leaned back, thinking.
"…With demon activity increasing near the borders, the odds of an incident during the tournament are uncomfortably high."
She sighed.
"I'll have to contact that old man. Move the knights."
Jane shook her head.
"I already sent a request to the Knight Commander. He's dealing with an invasion near the eastern border. He said he'll do what he can."
Cecil clicked her tongue.
"Tch. Figures."
She was silent for a long moment.
Then she opened the drawer beside her desk.
From within, she pulled out a messenger scroll.
Jane's breath caught.
The scroll bore a faint pattern—
Wings. Angelic in form.
"…Mother," Jane said carefully. "Are you sure about this?"
She hesitated.
"After what happened last time… he doesn't exactly have fond feelings toward nobles. And we're asking him to guard them."
Cecil sighed.
"We're out of options."
She held the scroll lightly.
"With him here, forget Templar Knights. We wouldn't need security at all."
Her gaze hardened.
"He could handle even a Demon General alone."
She scoffed.
"That brat has had enough time to sulk. It's time he returned."
Then, softer—
"And it'll be a wonderful surprise for Claire."
Jane smiled faintly.
She knew.
Her daughter had never been subtle about her feelings.
"Just don't do anything that will annoy him," Jane warned. "He hates dealing with politics."
Cecil puffed her cheeks again.
"I don't do anything stupid."
Jane stared at her.
Blankly.
Silently.
Cecil broke first.
"…Killjoy."
She poured mana into the scroll.
It glowed.
Then burned.
From the ashes rose a blue phoenix, its form elegant and radiant.
It screeched once, looked around the room—
And flew out through the open window, vanishing into the night.
Cecil leaned back in her chair.
"…A great change is coming," she murmured.
"One that will turn this world upside down."
Outside, beneath the twin moons—
Something long absent had just been summoned home.