The Academy’s Professor is Overpowered!

The enormous dome of the Velvet Veil stood proud in the city. Far away from the central streets was the newest theater in Glorenstein.

It was a place made by a playwright from the capital a few years before the war started. Thanks to the nature of the plays that appealed to not just the citizens, but also to the young and juvenile students studying in the academy, it quickly became a big hit.

Richard and I adjusted our clothes and stepped to the door of the theater.

“This is larger than I thought,” I said as I stepped into the lanes made by the steel railings.

“It is,” said Richard. “This place is fairly popular due to its cheap prices. There are four stages here, we might have to go to the smallest one.”

The ticket counter reminded me of a retro cinema. A single glass pane with a small hole cut through it was the only way to talk to the receptionist inside. The brick walls on both sides were covered with posters and artwork advertising the newest plays and their dates coming up for the city.

The city of Glorenstein was quite developed despite being a hub for education. I didn’t have the chance to explore a lot of these places except for the brief periods of time when I was too injured to continue fighting on the frontlines and took small breaks.

It was always novel for me.

I strolled to the counter and lowered my head. Inside sat a brown haired man, yawning and pulling his ID.

“Welcome to Velvet Veil!”

“Hi! I am here to catch a showing of L’Eclipse Noire? The show starts in half an hour, I believe?”

The receptionist narrowed his eyes.

“Do you have an invite, sir? It is an exclusive play.”

“Yes, of course.”

I looked back and stretched my hand toward Richard. The clueless Vice Principal shrugged, confused.

‘I don’t have an invitation!’ he mouthed.

‘The stupid letter!’

Richard ‘ah’d in realization. He rummaged through his pockets and handed me the letter.

“Right here,” I said. The receptionist closely scrutinized the letter and nodded.

“Please head in to the fourth stage through the door. Here are your tickets. You will have to present it to the gate guards.”

I accepted both the tickets from him. I asked how much we owed and of course, it was all paid for already.

We left the line and went to the door. After a quick pat-down, we presented the tickets to the guard.

“Hm. Stage four. Pick up the masks from here, please.”

The guard pulled out a tray from his spot and handed us both a masquerade mask. We each accepted one and finally got into the theater’s premises.

As expected of the Velvet Veil, the name matched the place to a perfect degree. Velvet-hued rugs laid the path ahead to the stages, on the ivory walls were posters of dozens of more plays that had been shown before.

The ceiling was lined with chandeliers and boards informing us of emergency exits and the path ahead. It all exuded a luxurious exuberance that one wouldn’t expect from a theater for the masses.

“Do you think we should be doing this?” asked Richard, a little nervous. “I mean… weren’t we looking only for Mrs. Frock’s son?”

“We were looking for something suspicious,” I said, adjusting my golden mask. As we tapped our feet deeper toward the fourth stage, more and more people came into our sights.

All of them clad in masks, waiting around in the lobby before heading to the stage itself. Many of them chatted and talked while the rest stood behind, leaning against the walls and smoking their cigars.

Their clothes were as varied as their heights and genders, some of them came about in suits while others wore jumpers. If one called over people walking through the city square at a random moment and put a mask on them all, the crowd would look similar to this.

“And we found something suspicious.” I whispered in Richard’s ears as I pointed at the scruff of their clothes. Almost all of them bore the insignias of different groups, guilds and clans in the city.

But it didn’t take a genius to know that most of their identifiers were fake, it only took someone who had lived in Glorenstein long enough.

“You’re right… this is very suspicious.”

A ring resounded from the doors of the stage. A member of the staff called everyone’s attention.

“The play will start in 20 minutes. If you wish, you may take your seats inside.”

At his words, a few of the guests moved to sit inside in the theater.

That was when my eyes fell on one guest in particular. One in a green mask with feathers sticking from the top moving opposite to the crowd.

I traced his path with my gaze and saw him going into the greenroom.

Huh…

There was another source of information.

“Richard,” I whispered. “Go inside. I’ll be right there.”

“What?”

“Just head inside.”

“Wait! Ethan—”

Sorry, Richard. I wasn’t going to pass on all this amounts of fun.

I followed behind the green-masked man. The crowd was left at the spot and most of the guests started moving into the seats.

I quickly hid behind a pillar and looked over. Into the greenroom.

The door to the Green Room opened, and the man casually stepped inside and waved his hands, I saw the rest greet him before the door closed.

Alright. This place was going to be easy.

“Mhm.” I faked a cough, stretched my hands, and stepped toward the Green Room. Before the play began, I too, had a show to perform in.

The door swung open and I took a step inside.

“How is everyone doing!”

The eyes all around turned to me. All of them, in strange costumes and clothings, sat in the Green Room and looked at me weirdly.

“Are you a performer?” Someone asked. “The guests aren’t supposed to be in this room.”

“No, no, I am supposed to be here.”

Oh? So they didn’t know everyone who was to perform either? Was this mask just helpful, or were they far too secretive? Well, I would know soon.

“Anyone wants coffee?” I asked.

All of them glared at me.

They all blinked. Some on the seats, some in front of mirrors, some just standing around.

I smiled and blinked too.

—Schwing!

A collective loud sound rang out as silver gleamed inside the room. All the performers had weapons in their hands.

I guess being friendly had its fair share of limitations…

***

Twenty minutes passed by. Richard nervously looked around at the seats in front of the stages.

His friend was not here yet.

The lights went off. A spotlight gleamed open on the stage.

And in came the performers. No, just a host.

A black haired host with a wide, friendly, familiar smile in a golden opera mask.

“Oh, fuck… Ethan, what the hell are you doing there?!”