Reincarnated as the Only Male in an All-Girls Magic Academy!-Chapter 30: Evacuation!

The classroom erupted like someone had set off a panic grenade. Screams shot out from every corner.

Girls jumped from their seats, knocking over books and scrambling away from the massive window as if they could outrun the horror looming beyond the glass.

One even dropped to her knees, muttering a prayer to a goddess that probably wasn't on speaking terms with them anymore.

"OH MY GOD WE'RE GONNA DIE!"

"SHUT THE WINDOWS! SHUT THE WORLD!"

"WHY IS THIS HAPPENING DURING ORIENTATION?!"

The floating spirit assistant blinked in the air, spinning nervously in place like a malfunctioning ceiling fan.

"Okay! Okay! Deep breaths, everyone!" it squeaked, waving its tiny light-arms in a frantic circle.

"Let's not lose our minds just yet! You're all future weaver elites, right? Big girls with big dreams and even bigger potential! We can work through this! It's only stage 3!"

No one listened. One girl tried climbing over another to reach the door, and someone else had started hyperventilating into her own uniform sleeve.

Another was just sitting in place, sobbing, "I didn't even get to fall in love yet..."

Ren, in stark contrast, remained seated.

His silver eyes were locked on the Wound outside. It wasn't just a crack in reality anymore, it was bleeding emotion.

Hatred. Fear. Despair. The negative energy slithered through the air like a fog made of screams, and Ren could feel it prickling against his skin like invisible claws.

His brain kicked into overdrive.

Time to assess.

'Wound classification. The Spirit said it's a Stage 3. So most probably only curses up to Stage 3 can emerge. Still low-tier, relatively speaking. But a Stage 1 is already dangerous. Stage 2 can fight a common beginner weaver and win. Stage 3... could kill one. Too easily.'

Ren's eyes narrowed. They don't need a Calamity to wipe out a room full of untrained prospectives!

Lia was still beside him, breathing heavily. "R-Ren... what do we do?"

Before he could answer, the spirit zipped down and glowed a little brighter, voice taking on a slightly more authoritative tone, like a daycare worker during an earthquake.

"Alright, LISTEN UP! I need you all to SHUT IT and pay attention!" A shockwave of magic puffed from its tiny form like a burst of sparkly air, silencing the room for just a moment.

"There's good news and bad news," it said, very matter-of-fact. "Good news: this is a Stage 3 Wound. Which means the strongest possible curse that can crawl out of it is only Stage 3."

That didn't help.

The panicked murmurs immediately picked up again, this time laced with even more hysteria.

"ONLY Stage 3? Are you CRAZY?! I can't even cast my first weave yet!"

"A Stage 1 curse could smell my fear from across the dorms!" freēwēbnovel.com

"I forgot how to breathe! Someone teach me how to breathe again!"

"Hey!" the spirit interrupted, this time with a little more heat. "Bad news time, by the way. Uh... so... all the instructors? Yeah, they were summoned to the main academy earlier this morning. Orders from the Headmistress. Very urgent. Very mysterious. Very inconvenient!"

Ren frowned. The main academy... wasn't that hundreds of kilometers away?!

The spirit confirmed it like a curse-sprinkled cherry on top of a nightmare sundae. "So yeah, the main instructors are currently about... two or three hundred kilometers away. So it'll take time for backup to arrive. But don't worry! We're working on that part!"

That part didn't calm anyone down!

It was like saying, "Hey, the fire department's three towns over, but feel free to try not burning!"

Panic was now turning into despair.

But not everyone was falling apart.

Mirabella hadn't moved an inch. Her violet eyes were locked on the sky, her silver hair glowing faintly under the bright lights.

Her posture didn't scream panic; it whispered ready. Cold and composed like a commander waiting for the first shot.

Lia, usually the cheery type, had dropped her cheerful demeanor completely. Her eyes sharpened with a predator's focus.

She slowly slid her chair back, tied her hair into a bun with a rubber band from her wrist, and rolled up her sleeves with the precision of a surgeon preparing for war.

A couple other students, likely from small weaver families, took deep breaths and stood tall, drawing small weapons from hidden compartments in their uniforms.

They were trembling, but they weren't running.

Ren finally stood, brushing invisible dust off his uniform. His tone was casual, but his gaze was razor sharp. As a scientist, he knew how to remain indifferent under pressure.

Even if it was a threat to his life!

"We'll be fine," he said softly, just for himself to hear. "They're only curses. As long as we don't lose our mind, we can fight. Or at least run intelligently."

Lia looked up at him, and her breath slowed a little. "You're calm."

"I'm always calm," he said with a tiny smirk. "That's what makes me dangerous."

The spirit was about to say more when it suddenly froze midair.

A tremor went through the window.

And then, they saw them.

The first curses emerged from the Wound.

They crawled out like shadows pulled from nightmares. They were twisted figures with hollow mouths and glowing red eyes.

Their bodies shimmered like heatwaves, barely solid, their fingers elongated and twitching like broken spider legs.

Some were hunched, others walked like drunk marionettes, but all of them sniffed the air in perfect unison.

And turned.

Toward the auditorium.

All at once!

The classroom went still as death. Every girl—no matter how scared, how brave, how clever—felt it in their bones.

Those things had noticed them.

And they were hungry.

It began with a sound.

Not a scream. Not a roar. Not a crash.

It was a low, ugly scraping, like claws dragging against stone, multiplied dozens of times and layered with an oily growl that reverberated through the floorboards.

The curses hadn't reached the auditorium yet, but they had seen it, and that was all they needed.

The first one leapt from the edge of the field, crashing into a lamp post and shattering it with its misshapen body.

Another tore through a row of decorative shrubs like wet paper. They didn't walk, they pounced, throwing themselves forward in unnatural lunges, flinging chunks of earth and debris into the air as they gained speed.

And that was when the first girl snapped.

"I'M NOT STAYING HERE TO DIE!"

She bolted for the main entrance with two others right behind her, screaming like banshees.

One of them even tried to yank open a side door in pure panic, her nails bleeding as she struggled with the latch.

"WAIT!" the poor spirit assistant shouted, spinning around in the air. "You mustn't leave! The building is warded, it'll hold for at least—HEY, LISTEN TO ME! STOP—!"

They weren't listening.

Because fear makes people deaf.

Mirabella stood up, eyes narrowing. Her violet gaze was like a blade being drawn. She stepped forward once, then again, and then with a cold snap in her voice that cut through the chaos like thunder, she spoke.

"Anyone who runs, dies faster. If you're not smart enough to sit still and listen, I'll throw you out myself and let the curses have you!"

Silence.

Instant.

The girl at the door froze, trembling, her hand still on the handle. Everyone turned, stunned by the sudden shift in the air.

Mirabella didn't scream. She didn't raise her voice. But something in her tone, the sheer command of it slapped the hysteria right out of the room.

"If you want to survive, shut up, sit down, and listen. You've got sixty seconds to calm yourselves, or I will decide who's a liability!"

Her silver hair whipped lightly behind her, like the flag of an empire that brooked no rebellion. The raw power rolling off her was enough to make even the braver girls back away.

Ren stepped forward next, smoother and quieter, but no less potent. He stood where all could see him, his hands raised slightly in a gesture of control, not submission.

His voice was calm, confident, and chillingly focused.

"Think," he said, cutting through the tension. "Running blindly only gets you killed. They're coming fast, but we still have time. Roughly three minutes before they reach this building. That's three minutes to organize, coordinate, and survive. You want to live? Then follow orders."

A few girls looked toward the windows again. The curses were tearing through the landscape—one had just ripped a statue in half, while another smashed through a storage shed like it was made of straw.

Ren's tone sharpened. "This building will hold for a while, but it's not a fortress. It's a delay. We need to evacuate, but not randomly. Not chaotically. We do it smart."

He turned to Mirabella, their eyes locking for a second, two leaders exchanging the same unspoken thought: Split up. Cover all angles. Control the chaos.

Ren continued. "There's a back exit that leads down a maintenance hallway. If we follow it, it loops around to the west path that connects to the arena. I believe we all know there's a barrier in the arena. A force field that can be activated to hold off any threat."

The moment he said that, a ripple of hope passed through the room. A flicker of light in a sea of dread.

"Once we activate it," Ren explained, "we'll be safe until the instructors return. But we need to move fast, in groups. I'll lead the evac groups. Back and forth. Keep them protected."

"And I," Mirabella added, stepping beside him, "will stay here and hold this position. Slow the curses. Keep them busy. Buy you the time you need to get the others out."

Gasps rippled through the room.

"You'll stay behind? Alone?"

Mirabella didn't even blink. "I'm the strongest one here. This is my job."

The spirit assistant blinked twice and then floated over. "That plan... is sound. The arena's force field is still functioning—should be. But we need someone to activate it manually at the console. Once inside, we can seal the interior and even use the comm-crystal to contact the main campus."

Ren nodded. "Perfect. First evac group—five hundred girls. Stay low, stay quiet, and don't look at the curses. Keep your heads down. Second group waits for my return. Mirabella, hold this place for three minutes per group. After that, pull back yourself."

Mirabella smirked. "I'll try to leave some curses for you to play with."

Some of the girls laughed nervously. The tension had not vanished, but it had transformed. From paralyzing fear to organized panic. It was still there, but now it had purpose.

Lia still hadn't said a word. Her brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. She stood beside Ren, silent and focused. But when he moved toward the exit path, she followed without hesitation.

He glanced sideways. "You sure?"

"I guess I trust you a bit," she said simply.

Ren's lips curved slightly. "Try not to regret that."

"Try not to get us killed."

And with that, they moved.

"Hold on, take these. You'll need it."