Not That Impressive
A ruggedly handsome man with strong golden eyes and short blonde hair walked over to Fate's table, surrounded by a group of lovestruck girls that jostled for the right to hold onto the man's white-robed arm.
The blonde man shrugged the competition off with a laugh and a smile even as the girls grew angry, saying harsh things like "bitch" and "whore" with nice smiles and sweet voices as they pushed and shoved, as if they had just given a compliment rather than a nasty insult.
He stopped a few feet away from Fate's table, beaming down at him with a toothy smile that literally sparkled under the cafeteria's ambient lighting.
The smile grew strained as Fate ignored him, too busy savoring one of the best meals he had ever eaten in his life. His black sclera were hidden behind his eyelids as he chewed slowly, enjoying every bite like it was the last meal he would ever eat.
Despite the slowness with which he appeared to eat, the plate, which had been piled so high with eggs and bacon that it had towered over Fate's seated form, was empty in less than three minutes.
Fate leaned back and pat his belly, stifling a burp as he waited for his food to settle.
'Strange. As a Journeyman, I'm supposed to need less food than before, but that's the most I've ever eaten in a sitting.' Maybe Journeymen could eat more, even though they required less? He'd have to ask a professor about that when he got the chance.
One of the girls hanging from the blonde student's arm let out a haughty "ahem." Fate cracked open an eye, his blue pupil landing on the source of the noise with all the irritation of a bear woken from its nap.
The next "ahem" died in the girl's throat as that eye fixated on her. As an Apprentice, she was weaker than Fate, who was now a Journeyman. As he continued to stare at her, his irritation turning to frustration as she refused to elaborate on why she had bothered him, a bead of sweat ran down her forehead.
The other girls averted their gazes as they shifted from one foot to the next, their fight-or-flight response attempting to kick in. When they laid eyes on the blonde man who they had accompanied and found him to be unaffected, they snapped out of their curious state and curled their lips snidely.
If this man wouldn't show weakness, neither would they. After all, he had loudly proclaimed that his ideal woman was willful and brave.
Even though it lasted but a second, the man's eyes flashed with a hidden light. He made sure to take note of this.
Fate's frustration turned to mild anger as he raised an eyebrow, opening his other eye. The girl who had cleared her throat felt another drop of sweat travel down the nape of her neck, but only stood taller. She refused to make a fool of herself before Indran Settan again.
The blonde man, whose name was Indran Settan, relaxed his strained smile. Unlike his retinue, he showed not even the slightest hint of fear despite being of a lower Stage than Fate. If anything, his confidence grew deeper as he met Fate's gaze.
"I saw your interview," Indran said, his voice oozing with palpable charisma. It was as smooth as silk and as rich as the man himself, the voice of a natural leader. "How much did the Febenochi siblings pester you for it?"
"They've been bothering me since I got back," Fate said simply. He had long stopped being angry about it. Anger wouldn't stop them.
"What made you give in?"
"Does it matter?"
"It does to me," Indran said, his eyes flickering. Fate thought he spotted some kind of emotion within the man's gaze, although it happened too fast to tell. "They've been bothering me since Monday, along with many others. I wanted to know what would finally cause someone to crack."
'He thinks I did it because they threatened me? Or because I lack willpower?'
"Well, answer him!" shouted one of Indran's followers. A quick glance from Fate and she clamped her mouth shut, eyes lighting with fury at her body's uncontrollable response.
The few students still in the cafeteria all looked over at the noise, wondering what Indran and his fangirls were doing. When they noticed Fate, the student from the interview they had seen last night, they turned around in their seats to watch the show, many holding their plates in front of them as they shoveled down their food.
"I don't see how that's any of your business, stranger," Fate replied, eyes flitting back to Indran.
"We're all friends here," Indran said charmingly. "We both follow the path of the Mage, brothers in magic and might. My name is Indran Settan, of the imperial Settan bloodline. So tell me, as a fellow Mage, what would make you agree to an interview? Perhaps it has something to do with those new robes you wear?"
"They said they'll pay for my Familiar," Fate said dismissively, standing with his empty plate in hand. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do."
Three of Indran's hangers-on stepped forward, blocking Fate's path. Unlike before, they didn't cower before his gaze, standing strong as their eyes flashed with rage and their Mana grew turbulent.
"Better things to do?" the girl in the front said with a sneer. She looked him up and down, unimpressed. "What could possibly be more worthwhile than talking to a descendant of the Empress' own blood?"
"I've talked to Her Majesty before," Fate said sedately as he activated his Skill. "Compared to her, this guy isn't that impressive."
He walked through the angry trio as if they were air, not looking back as they whirled around, their furious gazes sparkling with Fire and two other unidentifiable types of Mana.
He disregarded the disbelieving stares of those in the cafeteria as he set his plate and silverware in the return tray. Without a second glance, he strolled out of the cafeteria, ready to test some new Spells.