Chapter 38: Purple Lightning
The academy''s narrow wooden corridor stretched out in an elegant path, its polished surface reflecting the golden glow of ornate lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The lanterns themselves were mesmerizing, with tiny Menma cells drifting inside like fragments of stardust, glowing softly as they pulsed with faint life. Every now and then, the luminescent particles shifted, their golden light shimmering like fireflies trapped in liquid amber. The air carried a faint scent of aged wood, mixed with a subtle metallic tang—perhaps a lingering trace of the Menma''s unique energy.
Standing in the corridor, a girl with long violet hair waited with an unmistakable air of purpose. Her amethyst eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, their soft radiance betraying the intensity behind them. The expression on her face was serious—she had been waiting specifically for Fulan.
After grasping the situation, Fulan finally spoke, his deep black eyes calm and unreadable beneath his midnight-colored hair.
"If you''re asking me this," he said quietly, "then it can only mean one thing—you weren''t present at the entrance exam. That means you''re either a second-year or a third-year student."
He paused for a moment, glancing at her attire before adding, "And judging by your uniform, you''re undeniably part of the Knights Division."
The girl observed Fulan in silence for a few seconds before slowly raising her right index finger. She held it steady, positioning it perfectly in the space between her face and his.
Suddenly, her long violet hair began to shift, strands lifting and dancing as if caught in a phantom breeze. The air around her shimmered, and several locks of her hair began to glow with a pale purple light. The faintest hum filled the corridor, a whisper of energy building up around her.
Zap!
A small sphere of purple lightning crackled into existence at her fingertip, its surface flickering with unpredictable bursts of electricity. Tiny sparks snapped and arced through the surrounding air, the energy generating a localized wind strong enough to push Fulan''s black hair backward. The same force whipped through the girl''s long locks, sending them fluttering wildly behind her.
The sound of the crackling electricity filled the corridor, a rhythmic pulse of energy sparking in unpredictable bursts.
"I am Akira''s cousin," she said, her tone unwavering. "My bloodline is rare—people call us the Purple Lightning Menma users. But even though my family are nobles, Akira''s branch is of lesser standing. Blue lightning is weak. All his clan can do is move at the speed of lightning—that''s the extent of their abilities."
Her violet eyes flashed, and the sphere of electricity let out a sharp crackle. "But me… I can form and manipulate the Menma particles of Purple Lightning. If I wanted to, I could reduce a nobody like you to ash in seconds."
The winds generated by the electric sphere continued to push against Fulan''s uniform and hair, yet his expression remained completely neutral. He didn''t flinch, didn''t show any signs of fear or unease.
Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the ball of lightning disappeared the moment she lowered her finger. The air instantly fell still, as if the moment of power had never occurred.
Fulan exhaled softly, then closed his eyes for a brief moment before responding. "Whatever you''re trying to accomplish," he said calmly, "I''m afraid I''ll have to refuse. I don''t see any point in this."
He opened his black eyes once more, his voice growing firmer.
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"Unlike you, I don''t have time to play around. I can''t afford to waste my energy on a meaningless fight."
For the first time, the girl''s dark purple eyebrows twitched downward in irritation.
Then—
Fzzzz!
A pulse of invisible energy erupted from her, an unseen force shaking the corridor like a sudden storm.
Fulan''s uniform rippled violently, his black hair whipping backward as if caught in a powerful gust. The girl''s long violet hair billowed around her like a living storm, her coat flaring dramatically as the shockwave expanded. The Menma lanterns lining the corridor trembled, their golden glow flickering—and then shifting to a deep, ominous violet.
In an instant, the entire corridor was bathed in purple light.
Then—
A thin line of blood slid down Fulan''s cheek.
He hadn''t moved. She hadn''t moved. Yet, somehow, a small, precise cut had appeared on his skin.
Her violet eyes burned brighter, her gaze unrelenting.
"A meaningless fight?" she repeated, her voice dangerously soft. "I don''t think you understand me, Fulan."
Her aura pulsed again, the lingering traces of purple lightning crackling faintly in the air.
"If we were outside the academy, I''d crush you without hesitation. But unfortunately, I am bound by the rules."
Her tone dropped lower, her words carrying a sharp finality.
"Fulan Nanimo—you are the reason Akira was eliminated from the entrance exam. So I think I''ll keep an eye on you for a while."
She turned away as she spoke, her long hair flowing behind her like liquid dusk. With an air of effortless confidence, she began walking down the corridor—the same path Fulan had come from.
But just before she vanished from sight, she suddenly stopped.
Without turning back, she said,
"By the way… it''s coming soon. The Talent Festival."
Her voice was steady, yet there was an unmistakable edge to it.
"I hope—at the very least—you''re talented enough to fill Akira''s empty seat."
And with that, she walked away, her silhouette disappearing into the dimly lit corridor.
Fulan remained still for a moment before lifting his thumb to his cheek, wiping away the thin line of blood.
He let out a quiet sigh before continuing on his way to the male dormitory wing.
''I was supposed to go unnoticed. I was supposed to keep a low profile.
Why is this so difficult? Why do I keep getting involved with people I should be avoiding?''
As he walked, the thought of the Talent Festival lingered in the back of his mind.
According to what the headmaster had explained during the entrance exam, all students were monitored through Menma particles that had been infused into the welcome candies given to them on the first day.
Since Fulan''s goal was to avoid unnecessary trouble and maintain a clean record, he had imposed a strict rule on himself—never use his ability unless absolutely necessary.
Meanwhile, in the spacious dining hall reserved for teachers, servants, and the headmaster, the atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm bread filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of casual conversation.
Suddenly, one of the academy''s surveillance officers entered the hall, his face tense with urgency.
Glancing around, he quickly approached a blonde woman with pink eyes, wearing round glasses. She sat among her colleagues, a cup of coffee mixed with milk in her hands, laughing softly at a conversation.
Noticing the man''s troubled expression, she sighed even before he spoke.
"Let me guess," she muttered, placing a hand on her forehead. "It''s Serania, isn''t it?"
She exhaled in mild frustration. "That girl gives me such a headache."
After a brief pause, she added, "She''s been ranting all morning about how she''ll never forgive the one who got her cousin expelled. As usual, she ignored everything I told her… But she''s not foolish enough to break the rules outright. What did she do?"
The surveillance officer, dressed in the academy''s formal black-and-white servant uniform, answered quietly,
"She used 4.7% of her power."
The blonde woman rested a hand on her chin, thinking.
"Hmm… At that level, she could punch through a wooden plank if she fired a concentrated shot." A moment later, she nodded. "She wasn''t being serious, then. That''s fine. I''ll talk to her later."
4.7%.
That was all it took for Hanabi Serania, the eighth strongest student in the entire academy, to shift the air, distort the lanterns, and leave a mark on Fulan.
.
[A/N]
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