SHAMAN PROTOCOL
Chapter 81: When Saving the Day Gets You Detention

Chapter 81: When Saving the Day Gets You Detention

Just a few hours into the academy, Mikel had already learned a few things:

First, even in a school for shamans, delinquents still existed. The only difference was that the troubled teens here didn’t throw fists or kicks — they threw around high-tier phantoms instead.

But that wasn’t the issue at hand right now. The real issue was...

Standing in front of the headmaster’s desk, Mikel pulled one hand out of his pocket and pointed at himself.

"Uhh... Headmaster, why am I the only one in here?"

Confusion was clear on his face as he stared at the ghost blanket seated behind a large oak desk, wearing an eye mask that was slightly slanted—no doubt to express displeasure. At this rate, Mikel could gauge the headmaster’s mood by the angle of that eye mask.

"Hmm..." the headmaster hummed a long, drawn-out note. So far, that was all he’d offered—various hums of deep contemplation.

"The young master from the Dray Clan was severely injured," Butler Basil spoke gently beside Mikel. "Same goes for the young one from the Lunehart and the others involved. For safety reasons, they won’t be able to attend. However, they would face disciplinary actions once they’ve healed."

That meant Mikel was the only one healthy enough to receive punishment.

Great.

He moved the tray he was carrying and offered Mikel a polite smile. "Milk, Sir Mikel."

"Uh..." Mikel reluctantly picked up the familiar milk carton and nodded. "Thanks, Butler Basil. What about Tahu, though? He was part of it too."

"Tahu only joined after you had interrupted and escalated the situation, and avoided any direct confrontation," the butler explained. "And he also had to go to the infirmary for his injuries."

Damn! Best friend, my ass. That guy totally knew this, didn’t he?

Even though he didn’t consider Tahu a friend, that guy had been shamelessly claiming to be friends.

[I told you so, Master. Friends = Betrayal.]

[System Suggestion: Never trust someone who volunteers your name before theirs.]

"The headmaster has already heard the students’ accounts of what happened in the cafeteria," Basil continued, stopping beside the desk. "Headmaster, Sir Mikel is waiting."

The headmaster let out a dramatic sigh. "It’s a good thing Eron didn’t die, but... the Dray Clan won’t be happy to hear that Mikey was able to restrain their Guardian."

"Anyway, Mikmik, I won’t scold you, and I don’t want to. But since we’re on school grounds, and you did escalate things further, I still have to punish you," the headmaster exhaled again.

Mikel didn’t flinch; he just stared at the ghost. Mikel was used to being punished, but considering this wasn’t a normal school, the punishment probably wouldn’t be, either.

They’re not gonna torture me, right?

[Spiritual Torturing is possible, Master. It is, by far, the least concerning punishment for shamans. You will be fine.]

"Detention!" the headmaster finally chimed. "You’ll serve detention time! I considered community service, but since you acted to protect the students despite escalating the situation, you’ll only get detention."

Mikel blinked. Was that it? Even Doom went silent, as if trying to comprehend the absurdity.

[Master, it seems the academy is more pretentious than I initially calculated.]

"Detention?" Mikel repeated, watching the ghost nod. "That’s..." all? That’s it?

"I know," the headmaster said before he could finish. "Detentions are horrible. All that time listening to Good Manners 101—it’s dreadful. But if I don’t enforce this, it sets a bad precedent."

From the way the headmaster described detention, it sounded exactly like the kind of class Mikel used to nap through at his old school.

"Don’t worry, Mikmik. The instigators will be punished severely," the headmaster added. "Your punishment begins tomorrow and lasts for two weeks. Try to stay out of trouble until then."

"Uh. Alright," Mikel muttered, nodding.

"You’re dismissed."

Mikel raised his brows briefly, then turned to leave. But just as he did, the headmaster spoke again.

"Also, Mikmik," the headmaster called. Mikel glanced back.

"Don’t forget to drink that milk. It’s nutritious and helps with growth."

Mikel’s face twitched slightly. He gave a half-hearted nod and resumed walking.

[Detentions... how horrible, indeed.]

Shut up, Doom.

He took a sip of the milk on the way out. It was still cold as he remembered, and still weird.

As Mikel left the office, the headmaster released another heavy sigh. Butler Basil turned his eyes from the closed door to the ghost blanket at the desk.

"Headmaster, is punishment truly necessary?" Basil asked. "Had it not been for him, many students would’ve been hurt and the Dray Clan heir might have died from his own recklessness."

The headmaster leaned back in his seat. "If I don’t punish him, the Dray Clan will raise hell—for both him and me. They’ll lose their minds once they learn Mikmik restrained their Guardian... and that the Guardian listened."

"Ahhh!" he groaned. "This is why I hate the seven clans and how they always meddle in academy affairs."

Basil smiled subtly, listening to the familiar rant.

"Headmaster, I reviewed the CCTV footage from the cafeteria," the butler said after a moment. "Sir Mikel didn’t use any spiritual energy to fight or to hold that glaive. So... what kind of shaman is he?"

After all, the headmaster had never clarified that part. He simply invited Mikel in, claiming Stefan recommended him. But even now, Basil had no idea what category Mikel fell under. He had defeated a Blighted out of sheer will. At first, they thought it was beginner’s luck—the Blighted had only recently turned.

But now... Basil was certain. Something about Mikel had changed over these past few months. From the clips he’d seen, Mikel didn’t act out of pride. If anything, it was a calculated fight. Even in the final moments—Mikel on the ground, Eron standing over him—it was clear Eron had not won.

"Hehe." The headmaster giggled, turning toward Basil. "I don’t know!"

Basil’s brows furrowed. "Even you don’t?"

"Mhm! Which makes it even more exciting!" the headmaster beamed. "Mikmik fought a corrupted with no basic knowledge, survived two Type Xs, and according to Stefan, Mikmik could’ve won against the Type X effigies... though he might’ve died in the process."

As he spoke, he spun slowly in his chair.

"I think he might fall into the purple category... but part of me leans toward black."

Basil frowned. "A black stripe?"

"We’ll find out!" The headmaster’s chair stopped, facing the wide window behind him. "Hehe... for now, I’ll keep watching from the sidelines."

Basil kept his eyes on the headmaster a moment longer, then turned his gaze to the window as well.

"A black stripe, huh? That’ll be the first in a long time... since Sir Stefan."

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