Silence had barely settled in the hall when the corridor split open to reveal a presence that made the air suddenly heavy. An old man appeared at the entrance—not merely a teacher, but the personification of an ancient priest stepped straight from the pages of forgotten myths.
He was tall, standing with an intimidating steadiness. He wore dark ritual robes that blended the black of night with the purple of shadows, draped with a wide cloak that flowed over his shoulders like a persistent, heavy shadow. Silver metallic buttons gleamed with a faint luster on his chest, while pale grey lines on his garments suggested the formal attire of a high sage or a judge of a mysterious underworld.
His hair was white as fresh snow, swept back with meticulous precision that spoke of pride and vast experience. His long, sharp beard gave him a stern majesty, deepened by the wrinkles etched into his face like a map of secrets and decisions no one dared uncover. His grey eyes were half-lidded, not merely looking at the students, but piercing through their souls as if reading what lay behind their faces.
He walked with measured, quiet steps, hands clasped behind his back, exuding a natural authority sufficient to silence the entire room the moment he passed.
Espen's eyes narrowed sharply, a spark of suppressed rage igniting within them. He knit his brows, muttering internally with a tone dripping with venom:
(Look who graced us with his presence..! It's him.. the despicable Priest who assassinated me while I was off guard..! Step right up, murderer.. take the stage!)
Espen felt as if the walls of the hall were closing in on him, but the Priest continued his walk with icy indifference, as if nothing had happened—as if his victim hadn't returned to life to stand before him once more.
The old man stood at the front of the hall, scanning the faces with a cold, sweeping gaze. He opened his arms slightly and spoke in a calm, masterful voice that echoed in the corners:
"Good morning, students. I hope your day is pleasant and productive. Open your books to page twelve... and let us begin our lesson."
The Priest launched into his lecture, but Espen was in another world entirely. He didn't hear a single word of the explanation; instead, his eyes were like two daggers aimed at the Priest's neck, tracking his every move. He thought with blatant defiance:
(Watch closely.. watch. I am recording every breath you take. I won't look away for a heartbeat. Can you hear me in your silence? I will never avert my gaze until I see your end.)
The minutes passed heavily and monotonously, like a turtle crawling through quicksand. Espen didn't last long against the Priest's melodic tone; his eyelids succumbed to an irresistible weight, and he sank into a deep sleep. His head slumped until it rested on the wooden desk. As he drifted into dreams, a thin thread of drool escaped the corner of his mouth, slowly trailing onto the polished wood.
Suddenly, his body jolted as if struck by an electric current! He snapped his head up, eyes blinking in comical terror, while he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, muttering in a confused stammer:
"Huh? Where am I? Wait a second... oh, damn, I'm still in school, right."
Espen struggled to regain his balance, looking toward the platform to find the Priest still standing in place, continuing his speech without interruption as if time had frozen for him. Espen exhaled in frustration and thought sarcastically:
(What is this nonsense? Is he still lecturing?! Damn, in anime these scenes pass in the blink of an eye through a quick "montage." Being part of the story has made the suffering all too real and boring!)
At the front of the hall, the old Priest clasped his hands behind his back, moving with calculated steps that reflected a weight of knowledge spanning ages. His calm voice flowed like incense, filling the corners of the auditorium crowded with students who were pinned to their seats.
The Priest said with a tone carrying the grandeur of ancient secrets:
"You must realize with certainty that 'Mada' is not, in its essence, a mere independent force. It is not a fleeting elemental energy or a solid energy that can be shaped with a touch... rather, it is an ethereal thread deeply connected to the central energy latent within each of your souls. It differs from one body to another—sometimes radically—and that is the secret of its complexity. Mada... is not just an active force; it is 'Matter.' It is the essence of existence, something that takes shape from within and is not used in the conventional way you know."
He paused for a moment, raising a white eyebrow in a scrutinizing look as if feeling the pulse of their comprehension, then continued:
"For this reason, Mada stands vast distances apart from other energies, especially those 'Polluted Energies.' Take, for example, 'White Mada'... a curious matter, is it not? We all know the energy of Light in its simplest expression, but what does it mean for one to possess 'Mada of Light'? And what distinguishes it from ordinary light?"
His voice flowed incredibly slowly, circling around terms and definitions, until boredom began to seep into the students' expressions like a silent contagion.
In the third row, Espen leaned back in his seat, staring into space with utterly withered eyes. The Priest's voice broke his train of thought, which had wandered far from the walls of this cursed hall. He bit his lower lip in muffled annoyance and said to himself:
(To hell with all this... is it possible I'm forced to listen to this boring legendary drivel? I'm sick of it to the marrow! All I want now is for this lesson to end by any means necessary. I was smart and brilliant in my past life on Earth, yet my intelligence didn't save me from falling into this trap... not this logical world, not these mysterious energies, and certainly not this old Priest who tries to kill me one moment and teach me the next!)
The hall was submerged in a heavy, desolate silence, broken only by the Priest's monotonous voice flowing like an endless ancient incantation. Espen took a deep breath, feeling a weight in his chest as if the classroom walls were tightening around him. He pushed his right forearm toward the edge of the wooden table, carved with the memories of students long gone, and rested his forehead against his palm, letting his rebellious purple hair fall to cover part of his bored features.
As his eyes wandered into the void, counting the seconds remaining for his release from this academic prison, his gaze fell upon something that hadn't been there before.
Deep inside the slanted desk drawer lay a carefully folded paper. Espen leaned his body slightly, following the instinct of caution that now governed his actions, and pulled the paper out with his nimble fingers. It was small, torn from an old notebook, smelling faintly, and written upon in an attractive, flowing feminine hand:
"Wait for me after school in the classroom. (Nira)."
A wide grin spread across Espen's lips—a smile blending cunning with vanity. He let out a muffled chuckle, a short "Heh heh" that echoed in his throat like a hidden shadow. He flipped the paper between his fingers with a wicked smirk, muttering to himself:
"Heh heh, it seems Espen had some naughty after-school schedules."
He pushed his purple hair back with a finger, a flicker of defiance mixed with curiosity flashing in his eyes, and continued his muttering:
"The dilemma here is... what does she really want? I realize her goal perfectly; yes, the scenario is looping in my head. But no matter, I'll assume the best for the sake of principle alone... until I see what this story is hiding."
He folded the paper and tucked it into his inner jacket pocket next to his heart, then sat up straight. Suddenly, time was no longer boring; instead, every tick of the clock brought him closer to a new chapter of excitement.
The lesson finally ended. The Priest left the hall with heavy steps that left a trail of awe behind him. Students began to vanish one by one until silence dominated the place. Only Espen remained, tapping his fingers on the table in a rhythmic beat, waiting for the unknown.
He didn't have to wait long.
One girl remained like a quiet shadow amidst the empty seats. She stood up slowly, and in that moment, the pale sunlight filtering through the high windows hit her hair, which was a work of art in itself. It was a deep royal blue, cascading heavily over one side of her face, while the other side was shaved close and smooth, giving her a look that combined extreme femininity with sharp rebellion.
Nira stepped toward him. Her clear, pale skin seemed to glow in the gloom of the deserted classroom. Her dark brown eyes held a steady gaze—one that didn't need to feign strength because it radiated from within.
The details of her presence captured the senses:
She wore it with strict perfection; a dark, tailored blazer emphasizing her lithe frame, with shining silver buttons.
A precisely knotted black tie and a short skirt falling in sharp, straight lines.
Long black stockings reaching mid-thigh, creating a stunning contrast with her skin and the outfit, and dark leather shoes that clicked with confident, measured steps.
She didn't rush, and she didn't hesitate. She walked knowing exactly the effect of every step she took. She stopped directly in front of Espen and lifted her head toward him with pride, letting her blue hair slide off her face like a royal curtain revealing a dangerous secret.
Silence reigned over the abandoned classroom, broken only by the ring of her voice, which came out straight, devoid of any pleading or fragility, as if she weren't asking a favor but placing a fact on the table:
"Espen, I want a favor from you."
Espen's internal smile widened, and he thought with biting sarcasm:
(Of course.. the negotiations begin! Nothing is free in this novel. I'm certain there's a price waiting for me behind this request, and I sincerely hope it isn't the "price" currently looming on the horizon of my imagination!)
Espen painted a mask of kindness on his face and answered with a cheerful expression and a warm tone:
"Of course, Nira, anything for you. What is this request that made a beauty wait in the empty halls?"
A cloud of genuine sadness shaded Nira's features, and the spark in her brown eyes broke as she lowered her gaze slightly:
"My father is working beyond his limits, but despite all the effort, he cannot secure treatment for my siblings. The medicine is very expensive.. way beyond our reach. I ask you to lend me some money so I can get it for them.. if you please."
Espen didn't hesitate; the instinct to help awoke within him at the sight of this vulnerability. He said in a voice full of generosity:
"Don't say that, Nira. Consider it done. Just tell me how much you need, and I will secure the necessary amount immediately."
But as soon as the words left his mouth, his heart tightened with a sudden apprehension:
(Good god, am I actually rich in this world? Assuming "Espen" was the son of a giant, my vaults must be full. I just hope I haven't stumbled into a promise I can't keep, and I don't want to regret this sudden burst of nobility!)
Nira lifted her head. Sadness still cloaked her face, but she gathered her remaining courage and said in a mysterious tone that began to stir Espen's suspicion:
"Alright, Espen.. thank you for your kind agreement. Then, let us begin now."
Espen didn't understand what she meant by "let us begin" until the blood froze in his veins. With a sudden, organized motion, Nira raised her hands to the buttons of her school blazer and began to undo them with a strange coldness.
The blazer slipped from her shoulders to reveal what lay beneath.. her chest stood out clearly in a delicate pink bra, contrasting sharply with the somber atmosphere of the room.
Espen stood with his mouth slightly open, his mind refusing to believe:
(Damn it! What I feared has happened! Is this how debts are settled in this world? Dear fairy tale, have mercy on my nerves!)
As Nira continued to unbutton, Espen's worst fears were confirmed. His heart sank as he realized the bitter truth about his previous self, and he thought with contempt:
(I knew it! It seems the old Espen wasn't just arrogant; he was a scoundrel who exploited girls' need for money to trade for their bodies.. how pathetic!)
Espen bolted from his seat as if touched by fire, rushing toward her and extending his hands to stop her before she could proceed with removing her pink bra. He shouted in a voice full of confusion and shock:
"Wait! Stop right now! What the hell are you doing? Calm down.. stop this nonsense this instant!"
Nira stopped and shot him a look filled with wonder and confusion, as if this action were the only departure from the usual script between them. She said in a broken voice:
"Why, Espen? Isn't this the implicit agreement? You give me the money.. and I give you my body? Wasn't this always the price of your 'generosity'?"
Espen opened his mouth slightly, his eyes darting around the hall in shock. He then said in a tone mocking the tragic situation:
"My god, such staggering honesty! Sister, calm down and cover yourself. I will get you the money and everything you need without the need for these rituals!"
Nira's eyes narrowed with a piercing doubt, and her face took on an expression of disbelief:
"No.. you're tricking me. You won't do it. In the past, you wouldn't give a single penny without a return, and I don't think you've suddenly become a saint who does this without.. without doing it with me."
Espen felt panic creeping into his limbs. He thought quickly:
(Damn this tainted body! What now? I have to escape before this scene develops further!)
Espen turned, attempting to dash toward the classroom door, but Nira was faster. With a graceful flick of her hand, her crystal ability ignited; radiant crystals of a clear sky-blue sprouted, sealing the exit completely in his face. She stepped toward him with firm strides, assuming a defiant posture:
"Do you think you can flee from me? You won't leave here until you finish what you started! I know your tricks.. you're trying to escape because you don't want to pay the money. You're always like this, stalling and manipulating!"
Espen backed away, raising his hands in a tense gesture of surrender. He decided to resort to "Censorship" as his final shield:
"Lady, please, listen to me! I can't do it.. 'Censorship' prevents me! I swear to you, if it were up to me, perhaps.. but the rules here are very strict! How about an alternative proposal that satisfies all parties?"
Nira stopped, her blazer still open to reveal her charm, and asked with cautious curiosity:
"And what is this proposal, Espen?"
Espen swallowed hard and tried to strike a confident tone despite the tension:
"How about I go with you to your house right now? I'll see your siblings and provide the necessary help immediately.. and after we're sure they're alright, we can do whatever you want? Do we have a deal on this timeline?"
Nira averted her gaze, silent for seconds as she weighed his words. She then looked at him while carefully closing her blazer, and the tone of genuine sadness returned to envelop her voice:
"Alright, Espen. I'll accept your offer and see what you do. I just hope you aren't laughing at me in the end, because my siblings are truly struggling with death. Please.. don't fail me this time."
Espen felt a genuine sting of guilt for what "Espen" used to commit. He said with a seriousness stemming from his core:
"Don't worry, Nira. I will help you with everything I have. I give you a sincere promise."
Nira moved and canceled the effect of the crystals blocking the door. She walked out, muttering to herself with a heart gnawed by doubt:
"Promises me? Espen makes a promise without an immediate return? I really doubt this."
As soon as she left, Espen let out a long exhale, as if he had been holding his breath for an eternity. He leaned his back against the empty table and wiped the beads of cold sweat from his forehead.
(Damn! A narrow escape,) Espen thought, feeling a slight tremor in his hands. (The FBI, or maybe this story's censorship, almost ended my career right here in this suspicious scene!)
The danger he felt wasn't physical from Nira's crystals; it was a moral danger threatening his dignity as the new "Hero" of this world. He looked with contempt into the void, remembering the previous character's actions:
(What a piece of trash! How can someone exploit a girl's need for her sick siblings in such a cheap way? At the very least, I'll correct one thing in this absurd path.)
He straightened up, then walked toward the door with steady steps, leaving the silent classroom. His destination now wasn't just "Nira's house," but an attempt to atone for the sins of a body he didn't choose.