I Ended Up in a Magic Academy

Chapter 3: Frostborne

The first day of any new academy is always a total mess. Everyone shows up with way too much energy, trying desperately to prove who they are before the ink even dries on the class rosters.

But as the hours dragged, the hype finally fizzled out. The loud chatter turned into low murmurs and the crowds scattered.

I walked down a quiet side hallway alone, the sound of my footsteps echoing against the stone floor. Warm afternoon light streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the ground.

Most students had already rushed off to sign up for club tryouts, while others gathered in small groups, still talking about the fight from earlier and exaggerating every detail.

I didn't care about any of them. They were just background noise. My mind was completely stuck on someone else.

Frostborne.

She was the daughter of a fallen ducal house. White hair like fresh snow, skin so pale she looked almost fragile. But her magic was a total, violent contradiction. She controlled both ice and fire, fusing them into a unique, volatile skill everyone called "Cold Flame." Word around campus was that she was a complete loose cannon, totally ruled by her mood swings.

But if you actually looked past the gossip, there was something else there. Something that kept drawing my attention.

Most people looked at her and just saw a disaster waiting to happen, someone too dangerous to get close to, and way too erratic to trust. A few idiots only saw a pretty face, completely missing the point.

They didn't get that being unstable doesn't mean you're weak. Sometimes, it just means you're under massive, crushing pressure. And if you know how to direct that kind of pressure, you get something way more valuable than basic talent. You get raw, unrefined potential. The kind of power you can still mold, guide, and sharpen into a real weapon.

I looked down, keeping my hands shoved deep in my pockets as I kept moving.

More importantly, she carried the name Frostborne. It was a massive title reduced to a total shadow of its former glory. Her family had been pushed around, crushed, and nearly wiped out, leaving behind a quiet desperation. That kind of loss slowly twists into anger, obsession, and eventually a hard purpose that makes people take risks they normally never would.

If I approached her the right way, if I offered something real, not just empty promises, but a lifeline she could actually hold onto, she wouldn't turn me away. She wouldn't be able to afford to.

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The academy layout was simple enough. Orientation gave us access to the basic maps, and I had already memorized it.

With one last glance down the empty hallway, I shifted my pace and kept walking, already calculating everything.

Groups of students brushed past me, their voices blending into a constant hum. I ignored them. I just walked right through the crowd. Step by step, their voices faded behind me, turning into noise I didn't need to hear.

After a few turns, the vibe changed. The hallway grew quiet, a clear sign I had crossed into a different wing of the campus.

The dormitory section.

More specifically, the special admissions area, a block reserved for students who got in solely through outside recommendations. Surprisingly, it was mostly commoners.

I stopped right in front of a wooden notice board. The names were neatly listed in tight rows. I scanned the columns once.

Found it.

Frostborne, Elira.

So that was her full name. I burned the room number into my memory without writing a single thing down.

__

When I finally reached her door, I didn't knock right away. I just stood there for a second, letting the quiet settle around me. The hallway was completely different from the rest of the academy.

I let out a slow breath, raised my hand, and knocked twice. Just enough to be heard, without sounding impatient.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a cautious voice came from behind the closed door.

"…Who is it?"

"I'm Emil Remington," I said calmly. "I'm from Class S, and I want to discuss something important with you."

The door cracked open slightly. One sharp eye appeared through the gap, assessing me. After a beat, the door slid open a little more, and she stepped into view.

Her white hair was a bit messy, falling over her shoulders like strands of fresh snow. It wasn't styled at all, just left as it was. Her eyes were a clear, piercing blue.

"I don't remember asking for visitors," she said, her tone direct. She opened the door a fraction wider. "…What do you want?"

"I want to talk," I said simply.

"…About what?" The irritation was starting to show.

I didn't answer right away. Then, I shrugged. "If you're busy, I can come back later."

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "…You're strange. You wanted to talk, and now you're leaving? What, did you come here to confess to me or something?" She looked at me with genuine disgust.

"Well, it seems you're not busy, so that wasn't important," I replied. "What mattered was this."

She didn't shut the door, and she didn't turn me away either. She just stood there, deciding that, for now, this was enough. After a few seconds, she stepped aside.

"Seven minutes. You can talk to me for seven minutes, and if it's a waste of time, I'll burn you," she smirked.

Accepting the offer without hesitation, I pushed past her and stepped into her room.

A flash of shock crossed her face; she clearly hadn't expected me to actually step inside. Her guard slipped for a fraction of a second before vanishing completely. Her posture tightened up again, her shoulders squared, and her eyes locked onto me, fully on guard.

The plain room told me everything I needed to know, from the odd sight of a large witch hat sitting on the desk to the way her blue eyes tracked every single move I made as I sat down without asking.

"…So?" she demanded. "What is this about?" 

I met her gaze. "I have a proposal."

Her expression tightened as she stood before me, arms crossed defensively. "I'm not interested in scams."

"Then don't think of it as one," I replied, leaning forward slightly in the chair. "You're Frostborne. A fallen ducal house. Ice as your main element, fire as a secondary specialty."

Her fingers twitched against her arms. "…And?"

"You're one of a kind in your family line. You used fire and ice simultaneously during that earlier bout," I continued, dropping my voice. "That shouldn't be possible. At least, not under any normal conditions."

Her eyes sharpened instantly. "What do you want?" she asked again, much quieter this time.

"A contract."

The word shifted the entire room. Her posture stiffened and she stepped back slightly as I locked eyes with her.

"You don't even know me," she said, refusing to trust an unknown noble.

"I know enough," I replied with absolute confidence.

"…What kind of contract?" A flicker of curiosity had finally peeked through.

I leaned back. "A fair exchange, really. You give me what I want; in return, I grant you exactly what you lack."

She let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "And what exactly do I lack?"

I didn't hesitate. "Your standing as a noble."

Her expression darkened. "…You're arrogant," she said, her voice dripping with mockery.

"Probably," I replied, my expression unchanged. I stood up to leave, but paused. "One more thing. Elira Frostborne."

I said her full name deliberately, letting it linger. Her eyes snapped to mine.

"The downfall of your family wasn't just bad luck," I continued into the tense silence. "It wasn't just accusations. It was planned."

The air shifted. Her hand moved slightly, fingers curling.

"…What did you say?" she asked. A strange, almost hopeful look flashed in her eyes for a split second.

"I said it was planned. And I can help you with your revenge."

Her gaze hardened again. "Everyone says that. They all start like that, and then they lie!" Her eyes locked onto mine, and faint magical particles began gathering around her hands. "I can't trust you."

I nodded slightly. "That's fine. I'm not asking for trust. As I mentioned earlier, it's a contract. Think about it, Elira Frostborne. You teach me your unique skill, and in return, I'll help you reclaim your noble status."

I kept my voice at a low, steady drawl. "Your Cold Flame spell. The method. The control. Every single detail."

She froze.

I stepped a bit closer, letting my presence loom over her. "And as a bonus? I'll help you with your revenge. What do you say? Sounds like a fair trade, wouldn't you agree?"

Her expression tightened into pure derision. "You… want my unique skill? Don't make me laugh!"

I kept my face completely unreadable. "I am merely interested in your magic. Nothing more, nothing less."

She laughed again, though the room felt noticeably colder. "You think it's that simple? I can't trust you," she repeated.

She stared at me, her gaze burning with rage. But then, the tension suddenly bled out of her. She calmed down, a playful, mocking edge returning to her voice. "If you have proof, maybe…"

She hesitated, a tiny flicker of hope breaking through her doubt. "...Maybe I'll listen."

There it was. If I could just show her the proof that her family had been sold out and set up, everything would change.

"I'll bring you proof," I said, looking directly into her eyes without a single flicker of hesitation.

I turned toward the door and paused. "I'm looking forward to our future partnership," I said with a slow smile before stepping out. The door closed softly behind me.

The hallway was silent as I walked away. She hadn't agreed, but she hadn't refused either. That was more than enough. People with nothing left will always reach for a hand when it's the only one offered.

A faint smile formed on my lips. For the first time since arriving here, I felt it.

This academy might not be so boring after all.