The Villainess Will Not Be Eclipsed Again

8

UNKNOWN POV

The fog surrounding Eclipse Academy doesn’t move like normal mist. It clings to the sharp, dark stones of the valley like a heavy, living shroud, thick with ancient warding magic that keeps uninvited eyes away.

High above the iron entrance gates, perched on the dark stone arches, sit five motionless figures. They wear long gray cloaks that blend seamlessly into the gloom, their faces hidden behind identical, featureless porcelain masks.

Among the ranks of the academy staff, they are known simply as the Ghost Instructors.

They are five elite spellcasters appointed directly by Dean Grayson, tasked with a singular, quiet duty every new academic term— to watch the protective boundaries of the valley, monitor the incoming students, and record who among the four great packs possessed the drive, strength, and cunning to arrive first.

The lead Ghost Instructor rests his gloved hands against the cold stone railing, his hidden eyes fixed on the blank, white wall of fog stretching across the valley floor.

He is thoroughly bored.

In his mind, this annual tradition is nothing more than a foolish, predictable ritual thought up by Dean Grayson to entertain the high council.

The prize Dean Grayson had set aside for the first student to cross the threshold was extraordinary—a reward that could instantly elevate a student's standing in the academy regardless of their rank.

Yet, the lead instructor firmly believes the prize is effectively wasted every single year.

After all, the outcome is always the same. The first student to arrive will always inevitably be one of the high-born heirs from the four great packs—the Red Moon, the Harvest Moon, the New Moon, or the Blood Moon.

Only the heirs possessed the luxury, the wealth, and the endless line of personal guards to travel ahead of the main pack buses. They traveled in guarded luxury cars, guarded by high-ranking warriors who cleared the roads before them.

The rest of the incoming students—the common Betas, the low-ranking Gammas, and the fragile Omegas—have no such luxury.

Pack laws mandated that they travel together in large, heavily guarded convoys for their own safety. None of them will dare wander the neutral lands alone, nor can they afford to step out of line.

Whether the first student arrives a day early or a few hours before the gates officially open, it will always be a privileged heir. It has been that way for centuries.

‘A useless gesture,’ the lead instructor muses, his mind cold beneath his porcelain mask.

The strong inherit the world, while the weak travel in herds.

Suddenly, a faint ripple disturbs the heavy fog at the base of the valley.

The lead instructor freezes. Beside him, the four other gray-cloaked figures shift slightly, their hidden gazes dropping simultaneously toward the main iron gates.

The air around the valley turns unnaturally still. The ancient warding spells woven into the gray stone arches begin to hum softly, emitting a faint, pale violet light that pulses like a slow heartbeat.

It’s the signature activation of the boundary magic. A student has just stepped through the outer fog barrier.

The lead instructor’s chest tightens beneath his heavy robes. His hidden eyes widen in pure, unadulterated shock.

Impossible.

It’s not a day before the official opening term, nor is it even a few hours early.

A student has managed to navigate the perilous neutral mountain passes and breach the protective fog an entire week before the start of the academic year.

It’s a feat that had never been recorded in the long history of Eclipse Academy.

And it’s undeniably a student. If an intruder or a rogue wolf had attempted to step through that dense, magic-laden fog without an official seal, the academy's ancient wards would have instantly burned them to ash.

Instead, the purple light pulses gently, welcoming the traveler into the courtyard.

The thick mist slowly parts, swirling softly around a single approaching shadow.

The five Ghost Instructors leaned forward from their high perch, watching in stunned silence as the figure emerges onto the damp, cobblestone path.

It’s not a tall, imposing Alpha heir wrapped in heavy furs and surrounded by armed guards. It’s not a grand luxury carriage flying the crest of a high pack.

It’s a single girl.

She is lean, dressed in a simple, travel-stained green dress with a dark coat pulled tight around her shoulders.

Her dark, sleek hair falls in long, loose waves down her back, swaying gently with every measured step she takes across the stone courtyard.

As she walks out of the shadow of the gates, the moonlight catches her face. Her features are striking—sharp, high cheekbones, smooth pale skin, and striking emerald-green eyes.

Yet, there is no warmth in her gaze. Her eyes look like two pieces of carved, flawless green jade—clear, freezing cold, and completely unreadable.

She walks toward the high stone archway without a single flicker of hesitation.

The lead instructor watches her closely, searching her face for any sign of fear, exhaustion, or awe. The grand, ancient architecture of Eclipse Academy was designed to intimidate even the proudest Alpha heirs upon their arrival.

Yet, this single girl looks around the dimly lit courtyard with total indifference, as if she is merely stepping into her own backyard.

Nothing about the towering gray walls, the swirling fog, or the eerie atmosphere seems to surprise her. Nothing about her suggests she has just spent days traversing dark, dangerous lands entirely on her own.

With a silent, synchronized movement, the five Ghost Instructors drop from their high stone archway, landing soundlessly on the cobblestones directly in front of her. Their gray cloaks billow around them like shadows, blocking her path to the main hall.

The girl doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t jump, she doesn’t draw a weapon, and her pulse—visible at the smooth curve of her throat—doesn’t even accelerate.

She simply comes to a smooth stop a few paces away from them, her jade-green eyes fixing onto the lead instructor's porcelain mask.

Slowly, deliberately, she reaches into the inner pocket of her dark coat. She pulls out a thick, parchment envelope stamped cleanly with the bold, heavy wax seal of Eclipse Academy.

She extends her hand, holding the letter out toward the lead instructor.

When she speaks, her voice is remarkably steady, smooth as silk and devoid of any trembling fatigue.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, instructor," she says quietly. Her bright green eyes glint in the dark night air with a faint, dangerous light. "My name is Leah Bellmoore, and I believe I am the first student you have seen this year."

The lead instructor stares at the letter, then looks back up at her calm, unbothered expression. An intense, electric wave of excitement surges through his veins, making his breath catch beneath his hidden mask.

A lone omega. A girl with no guards, no noble escort, and no grand name, standing before the academy gates an entire week early with unshakable composure.

Behind his featureless mask, the lead instructor's thin lips stretch into a wide, eerie, and downright villainous smile.

He reaches out a gloved hand and takes the envelope from her fingers. With a casual flick of his wrist, a soft burst of dark purple fire consumes the envelope, evaporating the paper into fine ash that vanishes into the night air.

Leah doesn’t even blink at the sudden, casual display of high-tier magic. Her sharp eyes remain fixed on his face, waiting.

The instructor reaches into the folds of his gray cloak and produces a golden card.

"Welcome, Leah Bellmoore, to Eclipse Academy," the lead instructor announces. His voice is low and chillingly quiet.

As he speaks, the four other Ghost Instructors behind him open their mouths, their voices echoing simultaneously with his in an eerie, multi-layered chime that vibrates against the stone walls.

"As a prize for being the first student to be received, regardless of your status or standing, you are to be placed in the S-Class and dormitory."

The lead instructor places the gold card into her palm, his gloved fingers brushing past her smooth skin.

"May the moon embrace you warmly."

Leah closes her fingers around the cool edges of the card. A faint, razor-sharp smile touched the corners of her lips as she gave the five cloaked figures a polite, graceful nod.

The lead instructor watches her as she steps past them, her boots clicking softly against the cobblestones as she heads directly toward the grand, dark doors of the main dormitory.

Behind his mask, the instructor’s eerie smile widens.

It seems the ultimate prize—the legendary advantage Dean Grayson reserved for the most ambitious soul of the year—has finally been won. And it had not fallen into the hands of a proud, arrogant Alpha heir.

It belongs to an omega with a villainous smile like his.