Reincarnated as the Weakest Shadow Queen in the Academy-Chapter 44: The Elf’s Realisation

Ciel didn’t dislike her vulnerability. She just hated it when it was exposed.

"You two."

Because her ’vulnerability’ only belonged to someone.

Summer’s flat call froze both Ciel and Quia, the air humming with a quiet tension as if watching a drama unfold.

The elf couldn’t turn back, and Ciel’s spellbind felt burning on her wrist.

A chuckle escaped Ciel’s lips upon a glimpse of Quia, so shocked was all vigor drained from the elf’s face.

"Um..." The elf coughed twice, then turned around with a smile. No, their interactions were normal and pure, not at all taboo.

"Hi, Principal."

The sheer fact that Quia didn’t speak Summer’s name implied as such.

A dragon who was associated with the Witches didn’t exactly hide her strength, and it was publicly known that her name would only manifest consequences and bleed her lips dry.

Summer gave a quiet nod.

Then, her pupils locked behind Quia, to the fidgeting Ciel.

The moment froze between them, a wordless beckoning for an explanation later.

Ciel’s lips pursed. After a nod from her, Summer left the scene, ascended the stage by the stairs, before disappearing into the backstage.

"Hey hey." Quia flashed a look at Ciel. "Why did... uh, you know?"

Ciel’s shake of her hand was almost instant; the hesitation that used to plague her completely faded away.

That only deepened the elf’s frown. "Suspicious..."

"Miss Quia," Ciel’s hands pumped into two tight fists. "Please."

The begrudging, self-proclaimed big sister that was Quia grumbled. She, too, knew this was not the right moment to ask.

Yet the gyaru’s eyes peeked at the stage, dauntingly empty, with no presence lingering.

Then Quia leaned in, the gesture smooth and unsubtly courageous.

Then, planted another kiss between Ciel’s brows.

"Later," Quia’s lips wound up. "Just know that I’m hurt more than whatever happened back then, Ciel."

Gratitude spilled out, and the former shadebeast could almost taste it under her tongue.

Her spellbind burned again of an inevitable monitorance.

For now, she allowed this moment to melt into her heart, as she mustered up a quiet smile.

"Mm." Ciel’s eyes gleamed with sincerity. "Thank you, Miss Quia."

A defeated sigh came from Quia.

The elf still didn’t like the ’miss’ title. Not one bit.

—--------

Time passed, and noisy chatters soon filled the hall as waves of students swarmed in.

Ciel frowned as more curious glances locked onto her, unsubtle in probing, but never outright malicious.

The scene, when Summer hugged her small figure, proved to be unforgettable after all.

Soon, the chatterers began to focus on Ciel, making her uncomfortable.

Quia, who missed the scene, shielded Ciel.

But the elf’s glare did all but null, fueling only the onlookers’ curiosity, suspicion, and perhaps something worse.

That was until a certain redhead emerged, and all chatters screeched into a halting silence.

Shire’s figure briefly lingered, stopping in the gap between benches.

Ciel peeked out from behind Quia’s shoulders, chuckling as Shire raised an eyebrow at the scared crowd.

The crazed noble, unironically, was confused as to why the crowd insisted on respecting her presence so much.

Unfortunately, news about her extortion of the merchant guild and less-than-noble behaviours had already spread amongst the gossiping crowds long before.

After finding them, Shire plopped just left of Ciel.

No more chatterers dared to even look at their sides again, even as Shire dozed off to a bored sleep.

"Hm," Quia smirked. "We should keep this Shire girl. Serve as a human repellent."

A wry smile crept up from Ciel’s lips.

Eventually, as the sun rose just enough to slip through the hall’s window, an authoritative figure emerged.

Unlike Summer’s figure, who screamed it, this teacher’s tall stature and upright posture willed the concept of sternness.

With swept-back silver hair that threatened to spill away, she stood behind the podium, her monocle scanning every student in the seat.

She started not with an announcement of glory, but with a cold report.

"Thirty-one students, out of one hundred and ten newcomers last year, died upon the expeditions to kill shadebeasts."

Her arms opened, exposing the sleeves, too tight to look comfortable.

"It’s a remarkable, yet solemn improvement."

Then, she glared down from the stage.

It was an illusion, but Ciel briefly felt as if the glare ghosted on her and her only.

"This time, all of you newcomers who attended our ceremony, who the academy permitted entry-"

The teacher gave a hard slam on the podium, the echo loud and unashamedly emotional.

"Will make it a zero."

What filled the silence in the hall was not rebellious naivety, but only respect and fear.

All of the newcomers, future shadehunters no less, knew the situation by heart.

Because all of them came to hunt shadebeasts for a reason, and they couldn’t afford to die.

Well, except for a few peculiar figures.

The dozing Shire was an exception. The squinting elf and the Ciel, whose eyes glimmered with glittering innocence, elicited a muffled grumble from the professor on stage.

Other than the two, a certain catgirl from the back row twitched, her back straightened as the professor’s glare landed on her.

Selvara Stormveil. A beastman, who couldn’t stand long and arduous speeches, and let actions take all the speaking part.

The professor, named Kruella Forgeneir, didn’t mind.

Perculiarity was good because only solid confidence, rather than shallow egos, supported it.

And as she recalled, those students gave a good, last fight in that exam, proposed by her annoying junior.

"Well, with that, I’d dismiss myself." Kruella drew back with a mocking sneeze. "Please keep in mind, this is not just an academy for you to enjoy."

She added. "But rather a military institution that sent children to death, and we will be as responsible as you are to your own lives."

The professor then disappeared into the backstage.

And Quia waited. Then, she waited some more.

But the crowds of students shifted, exiting the hall one by one, knowing the ceremony was over.

A quiet frown crossed the elf’s brows, but as she looked to Ciel, the white-haired queen merely nudged the asleep Quia, trying to stir her awake.

But she waited again, and no Summer came, as if the dragon dismissing herself into the backstage was but a show of pride.

"What..."

Quia’s lips gaped, an unbelievable theory making up in her head.

That Summer showed up only for Ciel. That the Principal didn’t need to give any speeches in the opening ceremony.

At least, the elf couldn’t not ignore the connection between the Queen and the Dragon.