The Eminence In Shadow In Multiverse

Its weight fluctuated wildly—oscillating between the lightness of a sheet of paper and the crushing heaviness of a mountain.

All within seconds.

It forced his body, reflexes, and control to adapt constantly.

Not that it was without risks.

Maintaining this illusion required a constant flow of magic just to stabilize the space around him.

And if he ever slipped up?

Best-case scenario? The school gets leveled.

Worst-case scenario? The island sinks.

But compared to the ability to train as an Eminence in Shadow while maintaining his mob persona?

Totally worth it. (No doubt.)

"Swish… swish…"

His sword slashed through the air, its weight shifting unpredictably.

One second, it felt like wielding air.

The next, it was as if he were lifting mountains.

And yet—

Every strike traced the exact same path.

He wasn't using magic to guide the blade.

Pure muscle memory.

Every time the weight shifted, he adjusted his strength instantly.

His speed never wavered.

No, that wasn't entirely true.

The speed slowed down at exactly 0.003 centimeters before the sword touched the wooden dummy.

And at 0.001 centimeters, he would withdraw the blade entirely.

This was why—

Even though it was just basic sword practice, and even though he wasn't using external magic,

It felt like he was pouring his entire soul into every swing.

Half an hour later, his clothes were drenched in sweat.

His breathing was steady, but labored.

To anyone watching, it would've looked like a mediocre noble's son pushing himself to his absolute limit.

A weakling desperately trying to claw his way out of irrelevance.

The kind of scene that might prompt dark-hearted bullies to mock his efforts.

And then, perhaps, a kind-hearted girl would step in to defend him.

And after a series of events, she'd end up falling for him.

Yeah. No thanks. (Cringe.)

That was exactly the kind of development he wanted to avoid.

It was precisely why Cid always trained after school—long after most students had gone home.

This wasn't about showing off or impressing people.

It was about creating a believable excuse for his improvement without breaking character.

If anyone ever started to suspect him, this training footage would be more than enough to clear their doubts.

After all, Cid Kagenou wasn't supposed to be a genius.

And even if he was one, no sane person would waste hours on such a pointless exercise every single day. (Obviously.)

Cid's sword slashed through the air as his thoughts drifted.

Suddenly—his pupils contracted.

A faint, sharp smile crept onto his lips.

Without missing a beat, he continued swinging his sword.

But the magic imbued in the blade—the force manipulating its weight—vanished without a trace.

The spells reinforcing the space around him faded just as silently.

And then—

He really did spend an hour and a half swinging a plain wooden sword in meaningless repetition.

By the time he finished, he was physically drained.

Sweat dripped down his face, and his legs trembled—unsteady from standing for so long.

He even prepared to fall for added effect.

Good.

Now for the finishing touch.

Cid turned around—

And executed his greatest performance yet.

"Wha—wha—waaah!!"

He stumbled backward, flailing.

"Natsuki-sensei?! W-why are you here?!"

Cid collapsed onto the floor, his exhausted body giving out as though pushed to the brink.

His voice quivered, breaking midway through his words—an authentic portrayal of panic.

The hesitation and stammering in his speech perfectly sold his nervousness at being caught.

And to top it all off—

He made sure to botch her name, choking halfway through as if too flustered to pronounce it properly.

Truly, a mob character's masterpiece.

Now, if only there were a main character next to him for comparison, his performance would've been even more convincing.

"I just got here, actually."

The woman standing before him crossed her arms.

Her jet-black hair flowed down to her waist, framing her piercing blue eyes.

Dressed in an elaborate black Lolita outfit, her petite figure barely reached 140 centimeters.

She looked nothing like a teacher.

But appearances aside, Natsuki Minamiya was the real deal.

A top-tier combat mage from World No. 2, and one of the strongest individuals on the island.

Her title, the Witch of the Void, said it all.

"And this question should be directed at you," she continued, her sharp gaze narrowing.

"It's already late.

Why haven't you gone home yet?

You do know students aren't allowed to stay on school grounds after hours, right?"

Cid knew better than to argue.

Instead, he bowed his head slightly and put on his best guilty face.

"I-I'm really sorry, Natsuki-sensei!

You already know how terrible my talent is…

I'm barely hanging on as it is, so I needed the extra practice just to pass my classes.

But the training grounds outside are way too expensive, so I had to sneak in here instead…

Please don't report me to the school!"

A confession.

Desperate. Pathetic.

Completely believable.

Natsuki regarded him for a moment, then sighed.

"This is your first offense, so I'll let it slide.

But just this once.

Don't make it a habit.

Next time, you'd better find somewhere else to train."

"Wha—?!"

Cid let his voice break in disbelief before quickly recovering.

"…Fine. I understand."

He slumped his shoulders and dragged his feet toward the corner to grab his bag, throwing in just enough disappointment to sell the act.

As he reached the door, Natsuki's voice stopped him.

"One more thing.

It hasn't been very safe around here lately.

You'd do well to stay indoors at night."

Cid turned back, forcing himself to nod nervously before walking out.

But inwardly, he was already grinning.

"Not safe, huh? Sounds like the perfect stage for an Eminence in Shadow."