Chapter 8: The protagonist meets the director.

Well… this is weird, to say the least.

After surviving—by sheer miracle, honestly—the full-blown psycho rampage from Clementine (which felt way more horror-thriller than romantic otome, if you ask me), I got escorted by Auren straight to the Headmistress’s office at Libelling Academy.

And let me tell you—that’s kind of a big deal.

I mean, here’s the thing: as far as I remembered from the original game, Kathryn never even stepped foot in this office. Not once. Not even in the background. I’m not exaggerating—I'm not even sure the headmistress had a character illustration. Maybe one or two mentions here and there, that’s it.

Then again, knowing me, I probably fell asleep during that part.

Still, I couldn’t lie—part of me was hyped. Meeting the headmistress.

You know the type—mysterious woman-in-the-shadows that only shows up when the plot’s falling apart or someone needs divine intervention. And obviously, in true otome tradition: absurdly hot.

Carlotta had that highborn elegance that made you wanna slap her for breathing. Clementine? Full moe-moe gremlin vibes. And the last villainess, if I’m not mistaken, was the cool, cold-hearted one with that sharp, deadly gaze and probably wore a suit.

So what was left for the headmistress? The wise, seductive MILF type? Or maybe a mysterious young girl with a body way too mature and a soft voice that made her sound a thousand years old?

…

…

What the hell is wrong with me?

Why am I analyzing this like it’s some kind of waifu Olympics?!

This damn game is breaking my brain. I'm starting to think like a degenerate! And this isn’t even the first time—remember what I thought about Carlotta? Oh god.

Please. Someone. Send help.

Lost in my own existential crisis, I followed Auren—the ever-stoic ice prince who walked like he was born in a perfume commercial—until he stopped in front of a giant metal door. It was etched with exposed gears, all whirring like clockwork. He knocked twice, softly. No reply.

Then—click. The door opened on its own.

Magic. Or maybe just automation. Who even knows anymore?

"Go in," he said, not even glancing back.

"O-Okay…" I mumbled, not thinking much, just… going with it.

And then I stepped in. And what I saw? Totally shattered my expectations.

First off—the room. HUGE. Like, two full classrooms stacked side by side. On one end, a board cluttered with formulas, diagrams, and scribbles that looked like a magical engineering student’s worst nightmare. On the other, absurdly tall bookshelves packed with ancient tomes in languages that physically hurt my eyes to look at. Above us, a massive mechanical chandelier spun slowly, scattering golden light and making the whole place feel even more surreal.

And then… there she was.

The figure sitting at the far end of the room.

An old woman.

Wrinkled as hell, hunched like a twig ready to snap, hair gray like ash. She wore a formal suit—tie, lace gloves, tilted hat—topped off with ancient-looking glasses she held in one hand.

I froze.

“…No freakin’ way. That antique is the Headmistress?”

"Watch your mouth," Auren muttered without even turning. Crap. I said that out loud, didn’t I?

"Madam Herz is the one allowing you to remain at this Academy. Show some respect."

"Oh… yeah, sorry," I muttered, cheeks flaring with shame. Even I knew that was rude.

“Ha, don’t worry, young man,” the old lady said, smiling like a fox, her voice surprisingly firm. “That reaction’s quite normal. Come now, take a seat, dear.”

I obeyed automatically. Sat down in a plush leather chair across from her. The seat was soft, refined… intimidating. Up close, Madam Herz was even scarier. Her skin was so thin I could see the veins beneath, yet there was nothing frail about her. She was old. Really old. But powerful. Like time itself owed her answers.

I didn’t know if it was because she never appeared in the game or her uncanny aura, but something about her gave me the creeps.

“You too, Auren. Miss Fisalia should be arriving shortly, but that doesn’t mean we can’t proceed,” she said, thumbing through an ancient notebook.

“Understood, Madam,” Auren replied, stoic as ever.

So yeah… one minute I was sprinting for my life, the next I was sitting across from a death goddess wrapped in wrinkles.

Is this progress? Or just the start of another disaster?

“Let’s begin. Dear Kathryn, do you know why I wished to meet you in person?”

“…Because I’m the protagonist?”

I half-smiled. Kinda joking, kinda not. Because really—plot does tend to punch me in the face whenever it feels like it.

“Hah. You have a… peculiar sense of humor,” the headmistress chuckled dryly. “But no. Would you be so kind as to explain the reason, Mister Student Council President?”

“At your service, Madam.” Auren—statue-man supreme—spoke with his usual deadpan tone. “Miss Kathryn, we need to address your recent… events.”

“…Events?”

“The hallway incident with Miss Wiebke. The inappropriate use of your uniform. And now, the altercation with Miss Marinette. Your conduct has been unacceptable.”

"Ah..."

Well. I mean, yeah, technically both girls tried to kill me. I just survived—with style. As for the uniform, that’s a load of BS and we all know it.

But arguing would be a waste of energy. Time to channel my inner protagonist and use Reason + Luck™.

“I understand,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But I hope I’m not the only one getting scolded. And about the uniform… I’m still following dress code, right? It’s just… tailored. I don’t remember any rule that says you can’t make adjustments.”

I stared hard, waiting for someone to back me up.

“She’s correct,” Madam Herz finally said, her words slow and deliberate. “The uniform remains compliant. Unconventional, yes. But it maintains the floral insignias. Just… shorter.”

Boom.

Point for Kathryn.

“I still find it unacceptable,” Auren grumbled, with the expression of someone personally offended by glitter and joy. “But if you say so, Madam. Regarding your other point, Miss Wiebke has been reprimanded and compensated the damages. Miss Marinette will face the same.”

“Oh, perfect! So it’s all settled! No further issues, then I’ll just stand up and walk out with the dignity of a reformed queen and—”

“Not so fast,” said a calm, polite… and terrifying voice.

An icy hand rested on my shoulder.

I turned. And saw her.

The final villainess.

What was her name again? Fisalia? Yeah, that was it.

So this was Fisalia.

She greeted me with a peaceful smile that somehow soothed me… while her eyes were completely dead. Her sharp features, her perfectly tailored uniform straight out of a Libelling fashion catalog… she was elegance incarnate.

Her hair had this weirdly magnetic cut—soft curls falling in deliberately messy layers, like her hair knew exactly which angle to catch the light. The rest was tied back in a loose half-ponytail, strands framing her neck like they wanted to live there forever.

Let’s just say—girl had presence. And those floral patterns on her uniform didn’t soften her look. If anything, they made her more terrifyingly majestic.

“Not so fast. Just because the other girl lost her mind doesn’t mean you’re innocent,” she said, that soft smile turning icier by the second.

“Eh...? What?”

“Miss Wiebke reacted that way because you provoked her,” Auren added, tone dry enough to give me paper cuts. Fisalia stood next to him like an elegant shadow.

“Oh, come on! She was the one harassing me!”

“And was Miss Marinette also the one who ‘started it’?” Fisalia arched a brow.

“Uhhh… Y-Yeah...”

I lied like a damn pro.

“Madam Herz,” Fisalia said, turning with ballerina grace, “I spoke to Miss Marinette. She claims our guest here unbuttoned her dress in front of Lord Lysandre. Which, if I may, is more than enough reason to lose one’s temper.”

Bitch. She looked me straight in the eyes as she said it. And smiled. A smile that reeked of payback.

What the hell did I ever do to her?! This is literally the first time I’ve talked to her—or her Hero!

“I see,” the Headmistress nodded, adjusting her glasses with slow, terrifying precision. “Any heroic explanation worthy of a protagonist, Miss Kathryn?”

…

“Look! It’s Carlotta! She’s chasing someone with a sword!”

“What?”

Auren and Fisalia both snapped their heads toward the window I pointed at.

HA! SUCKERS! I screamed internally, bolting for the door like a track star.

“Non,” came the whisper.

Just two steps from freedom—WHAM. A force yanked me back like I was a damn puppet. Threads. Invisible threads. I swear I felt them wrap around me and drag me into the seat like some cursed marionette.

“Eh?!”

“Dear,” said Madam Herz, her smile gentle, her glowing blue hand terrifying. “I haven’t given you permission to leave.”

…

… I’m screwed, aren’t I?

“You see?” Fisalia said, her voice like ice crystals. “This girl lacks the class or discipline to remain in the Academy.”

Auren brushed a strand of perfect silver hair from his face, visibly annoyed that he’d fallen for my trap. Ha. Serves you right, pompous statue.

…Wait. This is not the time for smug inner monologues. I could get expelled!

…

Though, now that I think about it…

If I do get expelled, doesn’t that mean I get to escape these god-complex Heroes and horror-movie villainesses?

I don’t know how this "System" thing really works, but surely it won’t keep tormenting me if I’m literally banned from ever coming back. Right?

Honestly… this might actually be a win. No forced missions, no drama. Sounds amazing.

Where do I sign?

And if it goes wrong… I’ll just pray real hard.

Mom, Dad, Sis… if you can hear me… pray for your girl.

“I agree with Miss Fisalia,” Auren added, icy as ever. “She’s shown no respect or discipline. Expulsion is in order.”

“You’ve all made your points,” the Headmistress said, oddly calm. Almost amused. “Now let’s hear from our dear Kathryn. Hopefully this time she’ll talk… and not run.”

With that, I opened my mouth. Full of half-baked confidence and protagonist-tier desperation.

“You know what? I agree too!” I blurted out with a very fake smile and a stomach full of panic.

“What?!” Fisalia and Auren shouted in unison, eyes wide like dinner plates.

The old lady, on the other hand, just gave me a soft, curious… and dangerously patient smile.

“I mean, you said it yourselves,” I shrugged. “I’m clearly not worthy of this school. After all, I’m just a lowly commoner. And a Nen.”

Please, please, please expel me. I was begging on the inside. Just let me go home. Or to another dimension. Anything but this.

I braced myself, expecting the firm, crackly voice of the Headmistress to seal my fate, but instead…

She laughed.

Like, actually laughed.

“…Madam…?” Auren asked, clearly confused.

“You’re such a curious girl,” the old woman chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye. “Didn’t you beg me to let you into this school?”

“…Nope,” I lied with the most shameless poker face I could manage—though internally, I was dying of embarrassment. Maybe Kathryn did?

“Let’s do something better,” the Headmistress said, with the calm, smug tone of someone who already checkmated you six moves ago. “I can’t just let go of such a special Nen. Especially one capable of Non-Elemental Magic.”

She clasped her hands.

“So: stay this year. If you still think this academy isn’t for you, I’ll let you transfer somewhere else. Fair deal, no?”

“M-Madam…” Fisalia whispered, looking like a kettle about to blow.

But the Headmistress raised one finger—and the room instantly went silent.

Like, actual magic silence.

Oh come on!

Just let me leave!
I’ve already made two enemies—Carlotta and Clementine…
Okay, three, if you count Fisalia.
That’s like playing Russian roulette with three bullets in the chamber.

And I already stumbled into both the Prince’s route and the Childhood Friend’s.
That makes five damn bullets.

I’m literally about to shoot myself in the face just by breathing!

I don’t want this!

So far, I’ve survived by avoiding getting touched—by sacrificing other people’s dignity and, more importantly, my own. And I seriously doubt I can keep that up for a whole damn year!

“…Wouldn’t it just be easier… to expel me?” I asked weakly, feeling like a broken, defeated little gremlin.

“Ugh, gods, how stupid are you?” Auren snapped, giving me that signature condescending tone he had trademarked. “Do you have any idea what the commons would do if they found out you can use magic?”

The blank look on my face must’ve said it all.

Because he scoffed.

“Judging by that expression, I’m guessing no.”

And followed it up with a superior glare.

“Dear,” Madam Herz added in a grandmotherly tone that felt more like a horror movie warning, “they’d basically lynch you.”

BULLSH*T.

“WHY THE HELL WOULD THEY DO THAT?!”

“To be more precise,” she said calmly, “it’d be the extremist groups. Let’s just say nobles and commoners don’t exactly have the healthiest relationship. That’s given rise to several anti-magic movements. At least here, in noble academies, they’re not stupid enough to attack. Especially not here. Because I’m here.”

She said that last part with pride, flexing her invisible biceps like some retired hero.

Great. So now she’s also the country’s top badass or what?

Honestly, I couldn’t tell if they were messing with me or if this was actually serious. I didn’t know a damn thing about this world. Civil wars? Extremist groups? Magic mobs?

None of that rang a bell from the game’s plot.

But they didn’t seem to be lying.

Which honestly made it worse.

“…So I really don’t have any options?”

“Nope,” Madam Herz said with a smile way too smug to be legal. “That’s why you came begging me in the first place. That’s why I find this sudden change in attitude so fascinating. Tell me, dear… have things been so awful lately that you’re trying to sabotage yourself?”

She tilted her head, warm and unsettling all at once.

“I won’t judge. I know nobles can be real bastards sometimes. But it’s still better than being burned at the stake, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Y-Yeah…” I lied. Because it was easier than saying: Hi, I’m Julia. I reincarnated in Kathryn’s body, and this is a f***** video game.*

“I apologize. I’ll try to be… more careful. Thank you.”

Honestly, though? That sounded hard as hell. That stupid system popped up whenever it felt like it and forced me to make awful choices.

So I either stay and die because I made the wrong choice…
Or I leave and get stoned to death because I don’t know jack about this world.

Whyyyy are all my options horrible death?!

…Guess I’ll pick the one that maybe I can control a little…

BUT DON’T THINK THIS IS OVER!

The second I learn enough magic to defend myself, I’m OUTTA HERE!

After a few more scoldings—completely unnecessary, if you ask me—the old lady finally let me go.

I left the office escorted by the two aristocrats from the Ice Kingdom™️, like some peasant being marched to her execution.

Me in the middle, dragging my feet.
Them, stiff as statues.

“…Guess I’m stuck here after all,” I mumbled under my breath.

Except… it wasn’t that under my breath.
Oops.

“Be grateful, Nen,” Auren spat, giving me a look that was almost pity but smothered in disdain. “If Madam Herz weren’t so noble, you’d be out on your ass.”

“Oh no, I’m trembling,” I shot back, all sarcasm and teeth. “Did you not hear me? I was the one who wanted to get expelled, you idiot.”

…Yeah. Maybe not the smartest thing to say out loud.

Because, oh right—now I remembered.

Fisalia had a slightly possessive personality. And by “slightly,” I mean full-on psycho with extra cling.

She was also extremely protective of her precious Hero.

“How did you call him…? ‘Wild cat’?” she growled, grabbing me by the collar with elegant aggression.

“I-DI-OT,” I said slowly, dramatically. “Need me to spell it out for you again?”

“You little—!”

“Enough,” Auren cut in, as bored as ever. “Let the wildcat meow. We’re leaving.”

Ah, right.

That’s why they call him the Ice Prince. It’s not about freezing things. It’s because he gives absolutely zero f***s about anyone or anything.

Emotional frostbite, final boss level.

While those two walked ahead, no doubt thinking they’d taught me some noble lesson or whatever, I trailed behind, staring at the path ahead like I was choosing between two haunted forest trails full of hungry wolves.

“…Guess I’m surviving the academy after all,” I muttered.

The wind ruffled my hair like it was laughing at me.