Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats-Chapter 111 : The Plan
In the Spirit World,
Victoria Rothschild stood before an ornate wardrobe carved from what appeared to be luminescent silver wood. Her face remained completely expressionless, eyes vacant as though her consciousness dwelled elsewhere. Each movement she made possessed a mechanical precision, as if invisible strings guided her limbs like a marionette in some play.
With methodical detachment, she removed her garments, letting them fall around her feet in a careless heap. Her nakedness seemed incidental to her—merely a transitional state between one role and another. Victoria's gaze drifted toward the wardrobe, where ceremonial attire awaited her—clothing she had deliberately avoided since her arrival in this realm, preferring the familiar comfort of her own wardrobe from the human world.
The gown she withdrew shimmered with an otherworldly radiance. Crafted from fabric that seemed to capture and release light with each subtle movement, it flowed like liquid moonlight between her fingers. The bodice was adorned with intricate patterns resembling constellations, tiny gemstones that weren't quite diamonds catching light in ways that suggested they might be crystallized spirit essence. The dress's numerous layers cascaded in a graceful waterfall of gossamer and silk, each tier more translucent than the last, creating an impression of ethereal mist solidified into clothing. From the shoulders extended a cape-like train that seemed to merge with the air itself, the edges dissolving into wisps that floated several inches above the ground, defying gravity.
Victoria dressed herself with the same emotionless efficiency that characterized all her movements. The gown settled around her form as though it had been waiting for her, conforming perfectly to her silhouette. When fully adorned, she approached the enormous mirror that dominated one wall of her chamber.
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She turned slowly before the mirror, spinning with surprising grace to examine herself from all angles. Though her body language expressed enthusiasm—arms extended gracefully, posture perfect—her face remained an emotionless mask, eyes devoid of the pleasure one might expect from such finery.
Satisfied with her appearance, or perhaps simply completing another required step in her preparation, Victoria approached an ornate table laden with personal items. With casual indifference, she began picking up objects and tossing them over her shoulder without looking. Each item—a brush, a small book, various trinkets—vanished into nothingness before hitting the floor, swallowed by a void that presumably led to her dimensional storage.
Her movements faltered when her fingers closed around a picture frame. For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed her features as she regarded the photograph. Within the simple frame, three figures were captured in a moment of rare happiness: Victoria herself, her husband Friedrich, and their young son Ambrose. For several heartbeats, she simply stared at the image, thumb brushing almost imperceptibly across the glass over her son's face.
Then, as if catching herself in a moment of weakness, she tossed the frame behind her like all the other objects, consigning this memory too to the dimensional void.
With her preparations complete, Victoria straightened, adjusting the elaborate gown one final time. The door to her chambers opened with a whisper of movement, and a small spirit—no larger than a hummingbird, glowing with gentle blue light—fluttered into the room, hovering near her shoulder.
"Are you ready?" the tiny spirit inquired, its voice like chimes in a gentle breeze.
"Yes," Victoria replied, the single word clipped and final.
Together they departed the chamber, traversing ethereal corridors that seemed to shift and change with each passing moment. Eventually, they arrived at the grand throne room where the Spirit King awaited, seated upon a massive chair that appeared to be carved from the heart of a star, pulsing with inner light.
The Spirit King's gaze lingered on Victoria as she approached, a flicker of recognition passing across his ancient features. She bore a striking resemblance to her mother, Celestia—the human woman who had captured his interest centuries ago. He shook his head slightly, banishing the comparison from his mind as he rose to his feet.
"This was our promise," he stated, his voice resonating with power that seemed to vibrate the very air. "You're only fulfilling your end of the contract."
"I know that," Victoria snapped, showing none of the deference others typically accorded the ruler of this realm. Her eyes, normally cool and calculating, now flashed with dangerous intensity. "I just hope that I don't miss my son's birthday because of this."
A momentary pause hung between them, pregnant with tension.
"If that really happens," she continued, her tone shifting dramatically.
The atmosphere around Victoria changed, becoming dense with potential energy. The spirits nearest to her backed away instinctively as temperature plummeted. Her eyes transformed first, human irises giving way to brilliant blue that glowed with inner power. The transformation rippled outward, her hair changing color at the roots and flowing toward the tips like ink spreading through water, converting her entirely to her spirit form.
"Let's just say, there will be no more three worlds," she finished.
The lesser spirits around them watched with naked terror, but to everyone's surprise, the Spirit King burst into hearty laughter.
"You really like joking," he declared, seemingly unperturbed by her implicit threat.
The attending spirits exchanged nervous glances. Had that been a joke? Nothing in Victoria's demeanor or the cold power radiating from her suggested humor.
"Now then," the Spirit King announced, extending his hand with casual authority. Space folded at his command, reality parting to create a swirling portal beside him. Pulsing with ethereal energy, the gateway opened to somewhere beyond the Spirit World—their destination for whatever mission had been agreed upon.
Without sparing the Spirit King another glance, Victoria stepped forward and plunged into the portal, which collapsed behind her.
…
In a secluded chamber deep within the Xia Empire, shadows gathered like conspirators. Twelve figures stood arranged in a semi-circle, their faces concealed behind intricately crafted masks representing the ancient zodiac animals of their homeland.
At the front of the gathering, seated upon an imposing throne carved from dark wood and inlaid with jade, was Dragon. His mask, more elaborate than the others, featured scales that caught the torchlight with an iridescent gleam, creating the illusion that the dragon's face was moving, breathing.
Beside him stood Rabbit, her posture perfect and attentive. Her mask was simpler but no less beautiful—a sleek design with elongated ears and delicate whiskers crafted from silver wire. Though her face remained hidden, her alertness was evident in every line of her body.
Dragon's gaze swept across the assembled members, mentally accounting for each of his zodiac agents. Rat, Ox, Tiger, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, and Pig—all present, all awaiting instruction.
Satisfied with their attendance, Dragon leaned forward slightly, his voice resonating with authority as he began, "We'll start making our move soon before the emperor catches on to our plan."
Before he could elaborate further, Rat's voice cut through the ceremonial atmosphere. "Can I get a new outfit? Mine got burned." The interruption was jarring in both its timing and casualness.
The other members turned toward Rat with varying degrees of surprise and disapproval visible despite their masks. His clothing was indeed in a sorry state—the right side nearly completely incinerated, revealing glimpses of singed undergarments and skin beneath. The fabric continued to shed ash with each movement he made.
Dragon paused, his masked face turning briefly toward the interruption before deliberately looking away. He continued speaking as though Rat had never opened his mouth, outlining phases of their operation. Rat's shoulders slumped visibly at being ignored, his head dropping in what appeared to be resigned disappointment.
When Dragon completed his overview of their master plan, he shifted his attention specifically to Snake. "How's your progress?" he inquired, his tone indicating he expected favorable news.
Snake moved forward with fluid grace, bowing with perfect depth—not too shallow to show disrespect, not too deep to appear servile. "Just as Sir Dragon had predicted, everything is going according to plan," he reported, satisfaction evident even through the mask's concealment.
"Good, good," Dragon replied, his mask's features somehow conveying pleasure despite its fixed expression. With a slight turn of his head toward Rabbit, he communicated a silent command that she immediately understood.
Rabbit stepped forward, moving toward the chamber's far wall where a large map had been affixed. The parchment displayed an incredibly detailed layout of Crono Magic Academy—every building, corridor, garden, and what appeared to be several hidden passages were meticulously rendered with precision that could only have come from someone intimately familiar with the institution.
Clearing her throat delicately, Rabbit raised a slender finger toward a section of the academy's eastern perimeter. "We'll go in from here," she began, the assembled zodiac members leaned forward collectively, their previous formality melting into intense focus as they absorbed the details of what would clearly be their most ambitious operation yet.
[VOLUME 3 END]
