Isekai'd Into The Wrong World-Chapter 50: Ch - The Principal

The carriage came to a full stop at the base of the main building.

Ryan stepped out first, boots hitting cobblestone with a solid thud. Eleanor followed, and the moment they were both clear, the carriage door swung shut behind them.

Students passing by slowed their pace, heads turning.

Ryan felt their stares immediately.

He glanced down at himself. The military uniform he wore was practical, sturdy brown leather with the grey mountain sigil stitched onto the chest. Eleanor wore the same. Both of them looked like they’d just stepped off a patrol in the Rupes mountains, which, they had.

But here, surrounded by flowing robes and polished academy attire, they stuck out like soldiers at a dinner party.

A group of four students whispered to each other as they walked past, eyes flicking between Ryan and Eleanor with poorly concealed curiosity. Another student, a tall boy carrying a thick book under one arm, stared openly before his friend elbowed him and dragged him along. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Ryan shifted his weight. "We look ridiculous."

"We look like we belong somewhere else," Eleanor corrected. "Which we do."

One of the soldiers leaned out from the carriage. "You’re to meet with the principal. She’ll get you settled in."

Ryan nodded and then looked around at the congregation of buildings. "Right. Where do we—"

But the carriage was already moving.

The wheels turned, horses stepping forward in practiced rhythm, and within seconds the vehicle was rolling back down the path they’d come from.

Ryan blinked. "Wait!" he called after them. "Where do we find the principal?"

The carriage didn’t stop. The soldiers didn’t even look back.

Ryan turned to Eleanor.

Eleanor turned to Ryan.

"Well," she said flatly. "They were helpful."

Ryan sighed and scanned the area. More students were filtering past, some heading toward the dormitories, others toward the main building. All of them wore robes. Long, flowing, impractical-looking robes that dragged slightly against the ground as they walked. Mage attire, clearly.

He approached the nearest group, three students clustered near the entrance.

"Excuse me," Ryan said politely. "Do you know where we can find the principal?"

One of them, a girl with short brown hair and a bored expression, looked him up and down.

"The principal?"

"Yes."

She pointed upward without saying a word.

Ryan followed her gesture. His eyes climbed the towering structure in front of them, past the arched windows, past the balconies and stone bridges, all the way up to the very top of the central tower.

The pointed spire pierced the sky far, far above them.

Ryan’s stomach sank.

"She’s at the top," the girl said, smirking slightly. "Top floor of the central tower. Can’t miss it."

"Of course she is," Ryan muttered.

Eleanor stared up at the building, expression unreadable. "How many floors was that again?"

"At least thirty."

"Brilliant."

They entered the main building through a set of massive wooden doors that had been propped open. Inside, the entrance hall was just as grand as the exterior had promised. High vaulted ceilings, stone pillars carved with intricate designs, and a wide staircase that spiralled upward into the tower itself.

Students moved through the space with ease, some chatting, others reading as they walked. Nobody paid Ryan and Eleanor much attention once they were inside.

Ryan approached the base of the staircase and looked up.

The steps curved upward in a slow spiral, disappearing into shadow as they climbed higher. There were lanterns mounted on the walls at regular intervals, their light flickering gently.

"Ready?" Eleanor asked.

Ryan wasn’t, but he nodded anyway.

They started climbing.

The first few floors weren’t half bad. Ryan’s legs handled the incline easily enough, and his breathing stayed even. Eleanor moved beside him without a complaint.

But by the fifth floor, Ryan’s thighs were starting to burn.

By the eighth, his breathing had grown heavier.

Each floor had corridors branching off from the central stairwell, leading deeper into the tower. Through open doorways and archways, Ryan caught glimpses of activity.

Students gathered in circular rooms, seated at desks or standing around discussing intently. Voices echoed faintly, instructors lecturing, students talking and the hum of constant mana usage.

But the sounds were muffled, distorted by distance and stone. Ryan couldn’t make out individual words, just the rhythm of a functioning academy.

They kept climbing.

By the tenth floor, both of them were breathing hard.

Ryan’s legs felt like lead. His uniform clung to his back with sweat. Eleanor’s face was flushed, her jaw tight as she forced herself to keep pace.

"This..." Ryan panted, "is ridiculous."

Eleanor didn’t respond. She just kept climbing.

The corridors on these higher floors looked different. Less foot traffic. Quieter. The doors were fewer, more ornate, marked with plaques Ryan didn’t have the breath to read.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the staircase ended.

They reached a landing at the very top of the tower.

A single door stood before them, tall and arched, made of dark wood reinforced with iron bands. A brass nameplate was affixed to the centre.

Principal’s Office.

Ryan bent forward, hands on his knees, gulping down air.

Eleanor leaned against the wall, chest heaving.

"Never..." Ryan gasped. "Never again."

Eleanor nodded weakly.

After a minute, Ryan straightened and approached the door. He raised his hand to knock.

Before his knuckles made contact, the door swung open on its own.

"Come in, come in!" a cheerful voice called from inside. "Don’t just stand there wheezing like a pair of dying dwarves!"

Ryan exchanged a glance with Eleanor.

They stepped inside.

The office was... chaotic.

Books were stacked everywhere. On shelves, on the floor, on chairs, piled so high in some places that they formed miniature towers threatening to collapse at any moment. Papers covered the desk in overlapping layers, some held down by ornate paperweights, others fluttering loose in a breeze that didn’t seem to have a source. Strange artifacts lined the windowsills. A crystal orb that pulsed faintly with light. A set of bronze gears that rotated slowly on their own. A stuffed crow perched on a bookshelf, its glass eyes staring directly at Ryan.

And seated behind the desk, grinning widely, was the principal.

An elf.

Ryan froze.

She was tall, even while sitting. Long silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her ears, pointed and elegant, were adorned with multiple rings and small charms that jingled softly as she moved. Her eyes were a striking violet, sharp and amused.

But it was her clothing that truly threw Ryan off.

She wore a patchwork coat that looked like it had been stitched together from thirty different fabrics, each one a different colour. Bright orange clashed with deep purple, which clashed with light green. Underneath, she wore what appeared to be a formal vest, but it was buttoned incorrectly, leaving it lopsided. Her sleeves were different lengths. One ended at her wrist, the other at her elbow.

She looked like she’d gotten dressed in the dark after raiding a theatre’s costume department.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "The heroes! Finally!"

Ryan’s brain struggled to catch up.

An elf.

The principal of the Rupes Kingdom’s Lithara Academy, was an elf.

What did that say about the state of humanity’s mages?