I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

An almost modern architectural masterpiece stood amidst the patchwork of colored grass, making it look—from above—as though the edifice was built upon an intricate weave of colors, more by an artist than an engineer.

The building's exterior was a blend of shimmering glass and sleek metallic frames that caught the light and reflected the academy's grandeur.

Tall, angular spires reached skyward, with a constellation symbol of what looked like a lion's head adorned with a halo—etched across the central glass facade, marking it as a beacon of leadership and student authority.

Inside, the aesthetic shifted to a blend of minimalism and sophistication. Smooth marble floors, soft soul essence-charged lighting, and flowing water features created a serene yet powerful atmosphere.

Located at the heart of the building was a circular chamber enclosed by semi-transparent, enchanted glass that glowed faintly.

Several students in twos and threes were entering the chamber. As they entered, the room's ambiance subtly shifted—light patterns swirled on the walls, aligning to each individual's talent or aura, signifying their presence.

At its center, a large round table sat atop the sigil of the academy, surrounded by high-backed chairs with the insignia of the council offices engraved on them.

Each person settled into their seat and silently awaited the presence of the one with whom the meeting could only start.

After a while, the entire roundtable was filled, except for a single empty seat. Even the familiar face of Schneider was present.

He was sitting beside an imposing figure—a yellow-haired boy, his braided hair cascading down to the middle of his back. The braid itself seemed deliberate, almost ceremonial, lending an air of regality to his otherwise sinister presence.

His eyes were shut, their slanted shape evoking the cold, predatory gaze of a snake in human form. Even closed, they exuded a silent menace, as if concealing within them a thousand ways to end a life without getting involved.

And to his other side—right was the man that had accompanied him to the unconscious Lenn, who happened to still be unconscious even after a day.

The leader and chairperson of the disciplinary committee had silver-grey hair tied into a bun. He sat confidently, his sharp, angular features and piercing eyes carrying an air of quiet intensity.

His dark, open-collared shirt stood in stark contrast to the V-necks that others wore, but it complemented his no-nonsense demeanor, hinting at a calm yet intimidating presence.

Finally, at long last, the door opened once again and the definition of true regality walked in.

She was short, with snow-white hair that reached her shoulders. Her gaze looked almost detached but carried that air of spatial awareness and exuded so much intimidation that legs would tremble just passing next to her.

She finally settled into her seat, and the lady that had escorted her all the way bowed her head and went out alone.

With that, the door closed and the emergency disciplinary committee and council meeting began.

As the meeting commenced, a woman with jet-black, shoulder-length hair framing her face rose from her seat.

Her round glasses highlighted her strikingly observant eyes, which swept across the room with measured poise before she began her speech.

There was an effortless air about her—a blend of sharp wit, quiet confidence, and intellectual grace. As she spoke, her words flowed with a natural brilliance, each one precise and seamless, captivating everyone seated at the roundtable.

This was the secretary of the Student Council: Ayuri Miu.

After she was done, she bowed her head slightly and returned to her seat.

What she had simply done was keep the entire council and members of the disciplinary committee up to speed regarding everything that concerned them both, most especially things that had to do with the Milhwa festival.

After that, very few—two persons—added to what she had said, after which the roundtable fell silent.

A man with tousled auburn hair framing his sharp features rose from his seat, which was beside the white-haired girl who had entered last.

His piercing heterochromatic eyes—blue and amber—glinted with a blend of charm and mischief, his posture relaxed yet commanding. A faint, knowing smirk tugged at his lips as he addressed the room. Read exclusive chapters at empire

"This meeting was petitioned by Tever and the disciplinary committee. I believe it's appropriate to let him take the lead from here," he said, his voice carrying a casual authority.

With that, the vice president shifted the focus to Tever, the leader of the disciplinary committee.

Tever rose slowly, bowing his head in a gesture of respect. His calm, steady gaze moved across the room, lingering momentarily on each person before he began to speak.

"A couple of weeks ago, an operation—a cleansing—was put in place for the bully gangs and anti-progressive gatherings that are in the academy."

He paused for a moment, his orotund voice carrying an air of heaviness that was almost palpable.

"And the effect of it was very positive. We were able to clear all their gathering joints and hand them over to the administration for proper punishment. However, I don't think the academy's administration is doing a proper job considering that most of these people are members of the non-Combative school."

"Oh, cut those guys some slack."

A voice said matter-of-factly.

Immediately, a small frown creased Tever's face and he turned to the speaker.

"Do you have something to say, Tristein?"

Tristein, the red-haired boy with a sharp yet charismatic presence, rose from his seat, hands casually tucked into his pockets.

He usually had a warm, teasing demeanor, but right now it was gone, replaced by a frown that darkened his sharp features.

"Cut the propaganda and get to the point," he said, his voice cold and biting.

"A week ago, despite the council's indecision, you launched an operation to purge the Starchasers. Not only did you undermine authority, but you were reckless in your execution. If you were going to start something, you should have finished it. Now, thanks to you, we are being humiliated by some powerless freaks."

His words punctuated the room like thunder, and with a sharp slam of his hand on the table, his piercing gaze burned with barely contained fury.

Tever was confused. He glanced at all other members of the student council; they all had expressions that seemed to support what Tristein had just said.

Which meant something had happened that he was not aware of...