Chapter 147: The Princess, the Cat Girl, and the Canteen Quest
Fran leaned closer, her cat ears twitching as if she couldn’t hold the thought back any longer. Her voice dropped to a whisper only Dila could hear.
"Sister... maybe it’s because of that unknown entity we saw, remember? The one that seen and glanced at us with a cloaked on your very first awkward entrance..."
Her small hands clutched against her chest, pressing lightly as though guarding her heart. Her tail swayed nervously behind her, but her eyes sparkled with curiosity. The way she hunched her shoulders, almost curling in on herself like a kitten, made her words sound half-scared, half-teasing.
Dila froze. Heat rushed to her face, her pale skin betraying the blush that spread so quickly she had to turn away. Her long ears twitched sharply, unable to hide the sting of that memory. The embarrassment tightened her chest until she could hardly breathe.
"Fran..." Dila hissed, her voice low but flustered, "sheee... don’t remind me of that..."
Her hand gripped her staff tighter that she retracted in her back pocket although it’s magic has lost it was still capable of retraction and can melt like a jelly metal maybe the staff adapted as this point, she was holding onto it as if it would steady her unraveling composure.
Fran’s lips curled into a playful smile. She tilted her head, her hairpin catching the light as her navy-blue hair slipped over her shoulder. With a soft giggle, she covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling.
"Fu fu..." she let out, light and airy, the kind of sound that pricked at Dila’s heart. Fran’s laughter was too innocent to scold, too cute to stay mad at... yet it made Dila want to bury her face in her cape and never show it again.
As The other students still stirred at the professor’s warning, their whispers threading through the hall. In the middle of it all, Fran leaned closer again, her voice dropping so softly it was almost lost beneath the noise.
"Sister..." she whispered, her cat ears tilting, "how did your staff... going? I noticed it before... when we exited the infirmary... the staff I was holding... it was strange. It molded like something alive... like liquid metal sometimes. I don’t understand it..."
Her fingers curled against her chest again, as if she could still feel the texture of the staff lingering on her palms. Her eyes—blue, wide, shimmering—lifted toward Dila with both fear and wonder, like a child grasping for answers she could not find herself.
Dila’s heart tightened. She glanced at her Archane staff resting by her side, the faint orbiting smallest shards suddenly slowly circling its head, gleaming with quiet light. She drew in a breath, but even as the words formed, her voice carried a fragile weight.
"I... don’t know, Fran. I still truly don’t know what is the true capability of this Archane staff but i can’t feel the power behind it..."
Her hand brushed along the cool metal shaft as if hoping to draw out some secret hidden within it. But the uncertainty in her chest was heavier than its weight. She lowered her eyes, her silver lashes trembling, her blush still lingering from earlier.
Fran tilted her head, her tail flicking once, twice. "Really...?" she murmured, a mixture of awe and worry. The innocence in her tone only deepened the ache in Dila’s heart. She wished she could offer her sister a certain answer, but all she had was silence.
"Now, now... quiet down everyone please," Professor Dexter’s voice rang clearly as he raised his hand. Beside him, his long staff floated in midair, turning slowly, glowing faintly with contained power. At once, the noise in the hall dwindled, the restless whispers fading. Every pair of eyes followed him as he adjusted his glasses with calm precision, his gaze sweeping across the students.
"Good," he said, steady, "now... back to our present rules—"
Before he could finish, the soft chime of the academy’s magic bell rang out, filling the hall with a gentle hummm that lingered in the air like ripples on water. The sound was soothing, almost musical, as if woven by enchantment itself.
The professor paused, then chuckled, his deep laugh echoing warmly. "Oops... looks like it’s time for your midday food, hahahah."
Several students straightened in surprise, their expressions brightening. The professor rested his hand on his staff, but instead of grasping it, he let it hover obediently at his side as he gave a final look to the class.
"Alright... it’s time to dismiss our orientation. I believe I’ve given you enough information for today. Now you may leave."
His lips curved into a faint, satisfied smile. Then, without another word, his body dissolved into a swirl of shimmering light and thin wisps of smoke. With a sudden whoosh, he vanished completely, leaving only the faint afterglow of his teleportation behind.
"Wow..." one student gasped, their voice trembling with admiration. "I still can’t reach that level... sadly..."
More murmurs broke out among the class, each filled with awe, envy, or excitement. Some students clutched their wands tighter while some others clutched their different weapons unique to them, others looked down at their hands, silently measuring their own lack of ability compared to such mastery.
The atmosphere swelled with both inspiration and discouragement, the kind of tension only a true display of power could leave behind.
Suddenly, Fran clasped Dila’s left hand with both of her own. Her cat ears perked high, and she hopped on her feet, bouncing lightly as if she couldn’t contain herself.
"Yehey, lunchtime! Lunchtime!" she sang in her sweet voice, her tail swishing happily behind her. "I’m so hungry... I was dying to eat food since this morning!"
Her little jumps made her navy hair sway with each motion, her triangle hairpin glinting in the light. The joy in her face was so bright it almost melted the tension left in the air.
Dila stood there, caught between embarrassment and helplessness. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. With a quiet sigh, she shifted her staff. Tucking it against her back pocket, the long metal retracted rod shimmered faintly before retracting itself even further, almost melting into a jelly-like ripple until it disappeared completely living inside her pocket as if it was not there.
The sensation left her fingertips tingling. Dila’s eyes narrowed, her heart thudding at the realization. Did... my magic return?
For a moment she simply stood there, staring at her free hand, feeling the faint pulse of something that had long been quiet inside her. Yet even as hope brushed against her heart, a heavier ache followed.
(If so... why... why can’t I feel Nari’s presence?)
The thought cut sharply through her chest, a wound that no healing magic could soothe. She lowered her head, hiding the flicker of pain in her blue eyes as Fran continued to bounce cheerfully beside her, still clinging to her hands as if the world was simple and kind.
Fran suddenly stopped her bouncing. Her cat ears twitched once, and then she opened her eyes wide, their soft blue shining with concern. The glow of happiness was still there, but it shifted into something gentler. She tilted her head, her hands still clasped to Dila’s, and spoke in a quiet tone.
"Sister... are you okay? You’ve been sad lately. Even now, this midday... it feels like you lost something dear to you."
The corridor around them bustled with life as students began filing out, voices overlapping, footsteps echoing against the tall stone walls of Twilight Academy. Laughter and chatter spilled everywhere, yet in that small pocket between them, it felt as though the noise had faded, leaving only Fran’s words floating in the air.
Dila’s chest tightened, but she quickly forced a reaction. She let out a light chuckle, tilting her head back slightly.
"Hahaha..." her voice lifted higher than usual as she rubbed the back of her head, her silver hair brushing her shoulders. "Ahhh, hahaha... nooo, there’s nothing to worry about, Fran. I’m perfectly fine, see?"
She shut her eyes in a bright, almost exaggerated smile, her cheeks lifting as if to sell the lie. Then she opened them again, her blue eyes glinting under the lantern ligh and the natural light of the sun into the hall. "See? Perfectly fine."
Fran blinked, tilting her head more, studying her closely. Dila then gently shifted the focus, her lips curling into a sly grin.
"But Fran... it’s you who are sad, by the way."
Fran gasped softly and looked down, her fingers letting go of Dila’s hands. She placed her right hand under her chin, tapping it lightly while her brows knitted in thought. Her tail flicked once behind her as she muttered, "Hmmm... you got a point, sis..."
Dila exhaled quietly, her smile softening as she turned her gaze away toward the windows, where the midday light poured through, scattering across the polished floor like scattered shards of glass.
Whew... that was close, she thought, hiding the heaviness in her chest once again behind her feigned brightness.
As they finally left the classroom’s main lobby hall, Dila and Fran stepped into another passageway. The wide corridor stretched long and high, its arched ceiling lined with glowing crystal lanterns that floated just below the stone arches. Sunlight also spilled in from tall windows along one side, painting streaks of warmth across the polished floor.
Many students walked elegantly along the hall, their fine robes and capes flowing behind them. Some moved with quiet grace, heads held high, every gesture carrying the practiced poise of nobility.
Others clustered together in small groups, chatting in calm, refined tones—like the whisper of nobles raised in palaces. Dila could hear them speaking about tutors, estates, and magical bloodlines. They were not exaggerating. These were princes and princesses, heirs of houses and kingdoms, and it showed in every step they took.
Meanwhile, Dila and Fran moved differently. Side by side, holding hands, they walked as though they had wandered into the wrong place.
Fran’s tail flicked uncertainly behind her, and Dila’s long silver hair brushed lightly against her capelet with every step. They weren’t walking with elegance, but with hesitation, as though the endless hall itself had swallowed their sense of direction.
"Hmmm..." Dila murmured to herself, tightening her hold on Fran’s hand. Her blue eyes shifted left, then right, taking in the noble students gliding past them like swans in water. She raised her right hand to her forehead, shading her gaze as if she were watching into the distance.
"Where is that squire boy...?" she whispered under her breath, her tone both curious and a little anxious. She turned her head from side to side, scanning the stream of unfamiliar faces.
Still, they remained stuck in the middle of the path, uncertain of which direction to go, while noble students brushed past them with barely a glance, their polished boots clicking steadily against the marble floor.
Fran’s eyes lit up like a lantern. She squeezed Dila’s hand and bounced on her toes, all bright mischief and hopeful energy.
"Sister... how about we ask the nice noble over there?" she chirped, pointing with one finger at a cluster of glossy-robed students who laughed like tiny bells.
Dila’s face went pale in an instant. She glanced at the nobles—perfect posture, porcelain smiles, the kind who smelled faintly of rose oil and looked like they’d been polished this morning—and then back at Fran. She pressed a finger to her lips.
"Shsss, Fran... don’t... ask them," she hissed, eyes wide. Her voice was low, urgent. "They might chew us alive."
Fran’s smile froze for half a breath. Then she blinked, slow and deadpan, like a cat deciding whether a suspicious moth is worth the trouble.
"Sister," she said in a mock-tragic tone, one hand theatrically clutching her chest, "are you perhaps choosing the death of starvation over the noble chewings... or are we... surviving?"
Her voice was so earnest and melodramatic that a nearby noble glanced over, eyebrow arching with amused curiosity. A soft ripple of suppressed giggles floated from a group of girls who’d overheard the last word.
Dila’s cheeks flared crimson. She opened her mouth, then shut it again, flustered and helpless in the face of Fran’s theatrical logic.
"We are not dignified... we are not polished... we would be digested into society’s polite crumbs," she whispered, trying to sound grave but failing when Fran snorted with laughter.
Fran’s tail gave a delighted flick. She leaned in conspiratorially, voice dropping to a mock-whisper that only Dila could hear. "Or... we could just sneak into the canteen and perform the ancient rite of ’eat-first-ask-questions-later’," she suggested, eyes sparkling.
Dila stared at her for a beat, then the corners of her mouth twitched. The idea was reckless. It was messy. It was also exactly the kind of plan that would end with Fran happily humming with a stuffed belly and Dila trying not to trip over her own cape.
"All right," Dila said finally, the sternness in her voice dissolving into weary amusement. "But if a noble beast shows teeth, you are to blamed." "gahhh haaha." She chuckled while covering her lips gently.
But instead of worrying Fran beamed, already plotting as if they were about to stage a miniature heist. "Deal! And if we get caught... I’ll be the adorable defendant."
A noble nearby smirked, and other Professors are passing by on their way to somewhere they vanished from corridor corners. But this one unknown professor gave them a fond, knowing look that said he’d once been exactly as reckless. The marble beneath their feet seemed to lean toward the hallway pathways as they still searching the canteen and start an unexpected mission.
They slipped forward, two mismatched shadows among the polished nobles, laughter bubbling between them like stolen coin.
The hallway stretched endlessly, every turn looking the same, every polished marble tile gleaming back at them like a cruel maze. Dila still held Fran’s right hand firmly, dragging her along as though she was pulling a stubborn child.
"Aghhh... I’m starving here, sister!" Fran cried, her voice echoing dramatically down the corridor. She clutched her stomach with her free hand, staggering as if she were moments away from collapsing. "If I faint... promise me you’ll bury me with a giant bread loaf...!"
"Fran, stop saying nonsense!" Dila snapped, though her silver-white brows furrowed tight with panic. She glanced left, then right, then squinted down the corridor, her hand rising to her forehead again as though that would make the canteen appear.
"Where on earth is the canteen?!" she cried, her voice carrying an almost desperate wail. "We’re dying here... noooooo... hoo hoooo!"
Her staff shimmered faintly at her back pocket as if mocking her, giving off a lazy glint while offering no answers.
Meanwhile, Fran was half-dragged across the floor, her steps clumsy, her body leaning as if she had already given up hope. "Sister... this is how legends end... heroes fall not in battle, but in hunger..." she groaned, her tail drooping pitifully.
By now the hallway had emptied. The noble students who once glided past like swans were gone, their graceful chatter fading into the distance. The silence made Dila’s frantic voice sound even louder as her sandals clicked against the marble floor.
It was just the two of them, lost in a majestic corridor, looking less like princesses and more like travelers stranded in a desert.
Dila’s blue eyes widened again as she spun in place. "Fran, we’re the last ones here! The nobles have already cleared out! We’re truly lost...!"
Fran’s ears flattened against her hair. She lifted her head weakly, a sly grin tugging at her lips even as she groaned, "Then let it be known in history... the princess of Eldoria and her cute sister... defeated by an empty stomach in Twilight Academy’s cursed hallways..."
Dila dropped her hands lazily swinging in each side then glaring at her through Deadpanned, while Fran tried her best not to burst into laughter even as she kept clutching her belly.