Professor Wagner may have a knack for giving interesting lectures, but that only applies to the practical parts. Today's lesson was packed full of theory and therefore boring for Cyril. He appreciates the education he is receiving at Sirenford, but for most of the lessons he wonders if he will ever need this knowledge in real life...

But what feels like an eternity finally ends with the professor's farewell, releasing the students into freedom at last. In his typical hunched posture and his hands in his pockets, Cyril tries to leave the hall as quickly as possible.

“Hey Sudri! Are you coming?”

He pauses for a moment and turns to his classmate.

“Ah, I'm sorry, but a student asked me if I could help him with his class notes for a moment.”

Sudri puts her hands together and grins sheepishly at Cyril. She seems to have a guilty feeling.

You have nothing to be ashamed of, you idiot...

“All right. I'll go now. I'll see you at combat training...”

Being able to help others and being needed by them must be a nice feeling for Sudri, especially when you grow up in a family like hers. Cyril is happy for her... And maybe it's good for him to be on his own for once.

“Wait Cyril!” Sudri calls to the silver-haired boy.

“Hm?”

“Can you go to Professor Wagner's office and ask him about the project?”

“Project?”

What project?

“Yeah, we should take another project from him this year. You know, for a few extra points.”

“Extra points...”

Of course, the model student Sudri wants to earn even more points than necessary. But the school year is almost over. For Cyril, it's enough to get the minimum number of points to pass the semester.

“Well, I don't know.”

“Thanks Cyril! I'm counting on you!”

And Sudri has already disappeared, leaving Cyril behind.

“I guess I have no other choice...” he mutters to himself.

The corridors are filled with lively people as usual, but compared to this morning, the students are far less talkative.

It seems that the rumors about the masked man have died down again...

Cyril has no problem with that: those rumors really got on his nerves.

A Sirenford student walking around the school at night, delivering justice? What a load of nonsense!

Of course Cyril sees the problems at this school - after all, he himself has often been the victim of bullying from the Jewels... But seeking self-justice like a vigilante? That's akin to suicide and idiocy. The student council is far too powerful to be resisted, let alone brought down. What goes on at this academy is simply a bitter reality that you can't change - you can only adapt. And that's what Cyril does... or at least he tries as best he can. Until he has his degree in his pocket.

“Hey, Mulligan!”

A spiteful-sounding voice snaps Cyril out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

Calmly, he turns around and realizes that there are two students standing behind him. Cyril doesn't know these guys, but their expressions don't bode well.

“We've heard about your behavior today, Mulligan.” Says one of the students with short blond hair, “And we can't tolerate such disrespectful behavior towards the prince.”

Ah, that's right!

They must be talking about Semis. It makes sense: he messed with the prince and now his entourage has been turned on Cyril. I guess these two guys are supposed to be the consequences Sudri warned about.

This is the perfect moment for an “'adaptation”.

“Yo, sorry about that. Gotta keep moving.”

Cyril strikes back in his original direction and tries to escape.

“That's not how it works, Mulligan!” the blonde student shouts, grabbing Cyril's shoulder. Cyril knew full well that his apology wasn't going to be enough for them, but it was worth a try.

“You know what happens to people who talk to the royal family like that, huh?”

“Noooope...”

“Death penalty, Mulligan! They pay with their lives!”

The blond student pushes Cyril against the wall, causing him to face the two troublemakers again.

“You're lucky it's only a beating today. Hey, Marvin! Don't just stand there, give him a good spanking instead!”

The blonde student's words are directed at his partner with curly black hair: The second in the bunch.

“All right, Declan.” The black-haired guy replies and approaches Cyril.

Cyril looks at the other students around him: They're all pretending not to notice any of this.

Tucking tail, huh? I don't blame you...

After all, moral courage can be dangerous, especially at this school. When the nobles are bullying and beating, it's better to just keep quiet.

Marvin takes off the white velvet gloves that are part of the school uniform.

“Take that, Cyril Mulligan!” shouts the black-haired student and takes a swing.

WHAM!

“Ugh!” Marvin groans in pain. His target was definitely Cyril's face, but his fist hit the hard wall behind him instead. Cyril had pulled his head to the side in a flash, avoiding the blow.

“Interesting.”

A grin appears on Cyril's face. This expression is so uncharacteristic of Cyril Mulligan that the two students flinch back in shock.

“So you don't know anything about fighting, huh?” says Cyril to Marvin, who is still frozen in shock.

“Marvin, right? Look, you took off your gloves because you were hoping to inflict more pain on me, but you ended up hurting your own unprotected hand. Typical rookie mistake.”

“Wha-?!” Marvin seems to start moving again. His eyebrows are drawn together in anger and his gaze is full of rage.

“Shut up, you scum!!!”

Enraged, Marvin throws his fists at Cyril, but the silver-haired student dodges each blow with ease. Such fights are easy for him - but boring at the same time. He has no shortage of fighting experience.

“Hey... Marvin...” Cyril speaks in a calm voice to his opponent, who continues to throw hectic, uncontrolled punches. He would like to be able to end this fight without violence.

While Marvin is now breathing heavily from exhaustion, Cyril doesn't even seem to be out of breath.

“M-” Cyril dodges another punch, ”M-Marvin... Hey!”

No chance. His opponent is blind and deaf with rage.

Okay, if diplomacy doesn't work, I'll do it quickly. After all, a student is allowed to fight back sometimes.

With a well-aimed swing, his fist hits the area under Marvin's ribs.

“Ahhh-” The black-haired student can only let out a short yip before his eyes turn into his skull and he finally falls to the ground unconscious.

PUFF!

Declan, who had been watching the whole tragedy wordlessly, scratches his chin. He doesn't seem to care about his partner's crushing defeat. Instead, he grins.

“Great performance, Mulligan! The rumors about you seem to be true.”

“Huh?” Cyril doesn't know what Declan's talking about. With his fist still outstretched, he looks at the blond man quizzically.

“Your father was a pirate, right? At some point he decided to give up piracy and become a merchant - and what a merchant he became!”

Declan points his index finger at Cyril:

“His company became successful enough for you to study at Sirenford.”

And what does that mean? Cyril asks himself.

Declan's outstretched hand forms into a fist:

“But before you came here your old man taught you martial arts, am I right? You fight like a dirty pirate: with fists and feet!”

Cyril looks at his opponent suspiciously. He doesn't let his guard down for a single second.

Yes, it's true: his father was a pirate and passed on his fighting experience to Cyril. Perhaps he knew how much his son would need such skills at this academy.

“Yeah, so? What are you trying to tell me?”

Declan's grin widens even more:

“You're a capable street fighter, but you still don't stand a chance against someone like me!”

“Wha-?”

Declan storms off at Cyril.

“What's physical fighting talent when you're fighting a Lacrima?!”

Lacrima? Shit! Don't tell me he has-

Lacrimas are the supernatural abilities that few students at the academy possess. They are named after phobias and can be correspondingly frightening.

Before Cyril can jump to the side, Declan has already reached him and extended his index finger again.

“Let's see how you're going to dodge that attack!!!”

“-!”

“「 ASTRAPHOBIA 」!”

BRZZZT!

Numerous lightning bolts shoot out from Declan's outstretched finger and strike Cyril. Declan is right, Cyril is undoubtedly a strong fighter, but he doesn't stand a chance against the supernatural powers of a Lacrima as a pure physical fighter. That is the nature of the Lacrima: they allow the strong Lacrima owners to oppress the weak, talentless ones by force. This is how they maintain their position of power at the top of the world.

“ARRGH!”

This time it's Cyril who cries out in pain. It feels as if all the muscles in his body are contracting with incredible force. The cramps are choking off his air.

Declan says something else to Cyril, but he can no longer hear the words.

He sees his opponent grinning maliciously before he finally loses consciousness.