Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 116: Hero arrives

Chapter 116: Hero arrives

The air in the girls’ dormitory was thick with an unspoken tension, a strange undercurrent that Christina couldn’t ignore. As she walked through the common room, her sharp eyes caught the subtle shifts in behavior. Her friends, daughters of viscounts and counts, who once giggled and gossiped without care, now avoided each other’s gazes. Even the baronesses’ daughters, usually so lively, seemed to shrink into themselves, their faces flushed with something akin to guilt.

"What in the world is going on?" Christina muttered under her breath, her short dark hair bouncing as she tilted her head, scanning the room. The caretakers, too, looked unusually pale, their usual stern demeanor replaced by nervous glances and hurried steps. Something was off.

Determined to uncover the truth, Christina lingered near the staircase, pretending to adjust her shawl while eavesdropping on two caretakers whispering in the hallway.

"It was chaos yesterday, wasn’t it?" one caretaker, Mrs. Harrow, said in a hushed tone, her voice trembling. "I’ve never seen anything like it. The girls... and even us... it was like we weren’t ourselves."

The other, Miss Lila, nodded, her face ashen. "It’s that weird smell, I don’t know how but I completely lost control of my body."

Christina’s heart skipped a beat. No way! Are they by any chance talking about Shennong’s weird smell? That caused Christina herself to completely break all the restraints she had.

Shennong’s pheromones...his pheromones? Her cheeks flushed as a memory flickered—hazy, warm, and utterly embarrassing. She pressed a hand to her face, muttering, "It was a one-time thing. Never again. Never."

She pieced it together quickly. Yesterday, while she’d been in her dorm room doing all those things with Shennong, the dorm had been struck by some kind of... outbreak. Not a plague, not a fever, but something far stranger. Shennong’s pheromones, whatever they were, had swept through the dorm, turning friends into temporary lovers, caretakers into blushing messes that sometimes did things with students they were supposed to protect.

Girls had paired off with girls, caretakers had succumbed to the same feverish haze, and Christina herself—she shuddered—hadn’t been spared.

"No wonder everyone’s acting like they’ve committed a crime," she whispered, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Oh, Shennong, what have you done?"

She leaned against the wall, her mind racing. She’d always known Shennong wasn’t normal. The man her mother had taken a liking to was a walking mystery, with his cryptic smiles and skills that could do things no ordinary human could dream of. But this? This was a step too far.

"Is he really the right man for Mother?" Christina murmured, her brow furrowing. "If he’s causing this kind of chaos without even trying, what else is he capable of?"

Her thoughts were interrupted by a commotion outside. The dormitory windows rattled with the sound of cheering, and Christina hurried to the balcony to see what was happening. Below, a crowd had gathered near the academy main gate, their voices rising in excitement. A man on horseback rode slowly through the throng, his presence commanding despite the chaos around him.

"Sir Juno!" a woman in the crowd shouted, waving a handkerchief. "Our hero’s returned!"

"Bless him!" an older man called out. "If it weren’t for Juno, the war’d be lost by now!"

Christina’s eyes narrowed as she leaned over the railing. Sir Juno, the kingdom’s pride, was a name on everyone’s lips. His victories had held the enemy at bay, turning a losing war into a stalemate. But as she watched, her gaze drifted to the man standing apart from the crowd, near the gate. A hooded figure, tall and lean, his face obscured but his presence and his face unmistakable.

Shennong.

***

Down by the gate, Shennong stood with his arms crossed, his dark cloak blending into the shadows of the stone wall. His sharp eyes followed Juno as the knight rode through the cheering crowd. The people’s adoration was palpable, their voices a chorus of praise.

"Look at him!" a baker exclaimed, flour dusting his apron. "Sir Juno’s the best thing that’s happened to this kingdom in years!"

"Aye," his wife agreed, clutching her hands to her chest. "They say he single-handedly held the enemy. The enemy can’t break through as long as he’s there! I wonder what kind of expedition he was on this time?"

Shennong’s lips twitched, but not with amusement. His gaze wasn’t on Juno’s broad shoulders or the gleaming armor that caught the sunlight. It was fixed on the sword hanging at Juno’s hip—a blade with a hilt carved in intricate patterns, its sheath gleaming with an almost unnatural sheen.

That’s no ordinary sword, Shennong thought, his fingers tightening around the edge of his cloak. There’s power in it. Old power.

The same power that hurt Yenissa, to the point her wounds were unrecoverable

As Juno’s horse plodded forward, the crowd pressing closer, Shennong’s hand slipped to the ground, picking up a small, smooth rock. His movements were quick, almost imperceptible. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the rock flying. It struck the horse’s flank with a sharp thwack.

The horse reared, neighing in panic, its hooves pawing the air. The crowd gasped, stumbling back as Juno gripped the reins, his calm demeanor unshaken. His sharp eyes scanned the scene, searching for the cause of the disturbance. They landed on Shennong.

For a moment, their gazes locked. Juno’s expression was neutral, unreadable, but there was a weight to it, as if he were measuring the hooded man across the street. Shennong, for his part, offered a faint smirk before stepping back, melting into the shadows of an alleyway.

"Sir Juno, are you okay?" his second-in-command asked, quickly surrounding Juno be his body guard.

"I am okay," he replied, her voice uneasy. "I thought I saw someone...but I might be mistaken.."

Even though he said those words, Juno’s gaze lingered on the spot where Shennong had stood, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

"So he is not even going to hide..." Juno muttered to himself, curious about what this young man was capable of.

Since he was already in the academy ground, it was a matter of time before he meet this young man, but for now he wanted to see how his nephew and niece were doing.

Sir Juno dismounted his horse with a fluid grace that belied the weight of his armor.

His second-in-command took the reins, steadying the still-skittish horse as Juno’s boots hit the cobblestone path with a resolute thud. The students parted, their murmurs of awe and admiration swelling like a tide.

"Sir Juno, bless you!" a young girl called, her voice trembling with excitement.

Juno offered a curt nod, his chiseled features betraying no emotion.

Ahead, a cluster of figures waited at the academy’s grand entrance, their robes fitting of Sturgon academia.

At their center stood Archmage Mandira, her tall, imposing figure unmistakable even from a distance. Her slightly violet hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her sharp, hawk-like eyes locked onto Juno with an intensity that could’ve frozen a lesser man. The lecturers flanking her—mostly women, their faces flushed with excitement—whispered among themselves, their voices a mix of reverence and barely concealed giggles.

"Look at him," one lecturer, a young woman with wide eyes, murmured to her colleague. "He’s even more striking in person."

"Those stories don’t do him justice," another whispered, clutching a tome to her chest. "They say he faced a wyrm alone and walked away without a scratch."

Mandira’s lips pressed into a thin line, her expression souring further as the lecturers’ fawning grew louder. She stepped forward, her staff tapping the ground with a sharp clack that silenced the chatter. The air around her seemed to hum with latent magic, a subtle reminder of her authority.

"Sir Juno," Mandira said, her voice cutting through the crowd’s murmurs like a blade. "What a... surprise." Her tone dripped with disdain, each word carefully chosen to convey her lack of enthusiasm. "I trust your expedition to the newly appeared dungeon was fruitful?"

Juno met her gaze, unflinching. His face remained a mask of calm, though the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at amusement. "Archmage Mandira," he replied, his voice deep and steady, "the journey was a success. I have a full report prepared, but as you well know, protocol demands I present it to the throne first."

Mandira’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her staff. "Is that so?" she said, her voice icy. "And yet, here you are, striding into my academy without so much as a formal request. Tell me, what brings the kingdom’s shining hero to our humble halls?"

The lecturers exchanged nervous glances, sensing the tension crackling between the two. Juno’s second-in-command shifted uncomfortably, but Juno himself didn’t falter. He took a step closer, his armor clinking softly, and the crowd seemed to hold its breath.

"I’m here to see Lady Cassandra’s daughter, Christina Percival," Juno said, his tone even but firm. "And to check on Princess Maria, as well as my nephew and niece. The throne has already granted me permission to enter the academy grounds, so I trust there’s no issue?"

Mandira’s jaw tightened, her eyes flashing with irritation. She knew full well the throne’s authority superseded her own, but the slight didn’t sit well. "Is that so?" she said, her voice clipped and formal. "Very well, Sir Juno. Make it quick. The academy is no place for... distractions."

Juno’s lips curved into a faint, almost mocking smile. "Noted, Archmage," he said, brushing past her without a second glance. The lecturers parted like a sea, their eyes wide as they watched him stride toward the academy’s towering doors. Mandira’s gaze bored into his back, her staff tapping the ground once more, a sharp, deliberate sound that echoed her displeasure.

"Ugh~I hate seeing him," Mandira whsipered to herself, as she went back into her office knowing, Juno’s presence will bring lot of drama.

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