First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

Xavier strolled into Seraphina’s restaurant with Lilia and Lyra at his sides. But this time, there was a fourth shadow in the mix—Viola.

The second they stepped in, Seraphina froze mid-motion behind the counter. Her eyes snapped to the unfamiliar girl clinging comfortably to Xavier’s orbit, and her expression slipped just enough to betray shock before she schooled it into her usual composed smile.

Still, her gaze never left Viola, sharp and assessing, and every so often it flicked back to Xavier with that unmistakable flare of jealousy burning through.

Breakfast was quiet on the surface, but the undercurrent was electric. Lilia and Lyra chatted casually, Viola sat calm as if she belonged there, while Seraphina kept circling the table, a little too attentive, her eyes narrowing whenever Xavier leaned even slightly toward the newcomer.

Xavier, however, didn’t feed it one bit. He just ate, sipped his coffee, and ignored the tension hanging in the air like it didn’t exist.

When they were done, he rose first, adjusted his coat, and left for the academy with the same detached calm, leaving the three girls at the restaurant.

By the time he got to the academy, the weight of the city’s headlines was already following him like a shadow. Students in the halls parted as he walked through, eyes wide, whispers loud enough to hear. Fear. Respect. Awe. A cocktail that hung around him now like a second skin.

Xavier didn’t so much as glance at them. He strode into his classroom and sat with the same casual posture as if none of it mattered. The murmurs rippled again, desks shifting slightly away from him, like his presence had become too sharp to sit too close to.

The silence in the classroom wasn’t normal silence—it was a silence loaded with weight. Everyone was watching him, but no one dared to speak. It was like having a bomb sitting in the middle of the room, ticking slowly, and every student was just praying they wouldn’t be the one to trigger it.

Even the ones who had once thrown snide comments at him now stared from a safe distance, their faces pale. A few exchanged glances, silently asking each other, ”Why the hell is he even here after all that?”

Then came the hiss of the door. The professor stepped in, scrolls and holograms in hand, his usual stern expression faltering the instant he saw Xavier casually seated in the back like nothing had happened. The professor hesitated mid-step, the weight of recognition flashing across his face. Everyone at the academy had heard the news by now.

The professor adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and carried himself forward with forced professionalism, but there was no mistaking the tension in his movements. His words came out clipped, a little too formal.

”Class... let us begin.”

But the usual flow of lecture was gone. Every time his eyes landed on Xavier, there was a pause, like his brain had to double-check if this was real. The man who had been all over the feeds—bloodstained, standing before the penitentiary gates, delivering that trembling statement—was now here, sitting with arms folded, watching quietly.

Some students scribbled half-hearted notes, others just kept sneaking glances. One girl at the front tightened her grip on her pen so much it snapped. A boy at the far side whispered, thinking no one could hear, ”How the hell is he just... sitting there?”

Xavier leaned back, lips twitching faintly, catching all of it. The fear. The awe. The unease. He didn’t need to speak—it was more fun letting their imaginations do the work.

And when the professor dared to ask a question to the class, his eyes deliberately skipped Xavier, almost afraid of drawing him into something so mundane.

Xavier smirked, low to himself. He had turned the classroom into a theater, and every single person was stuck in the audience of his presence.

After a few lectures came Xavier’s most awaited lunch break.

The cafeteria was louder than usual, yet the noise never touched Xavier. He and Oliver had barely stepped into line before the ripple happened—students shifting, backing away, trays in hand, creating space without a word being spoken.

It was instinct, fear, respect—whatever you wanted to call it. The result was the same: the line split, leaving a clean, unnatural path for Xavier to the counter. A few muttered excuses under their breath, others avoided eye contact altogether, but none of them dared to stand in front of him.

Oliver glanced around, clearly uncomfortable with the way the air bent around them. ”Bro, you seein’ this?” he whispered, leaning close.

Xavier just smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets like this was the most natural thing in the world. ”Guess they’re finally learning manners.”

This was the same place and spot where Xavier was beaten and bullied and no one came to help him or answer his cry. Instead, they all watched the show and enjoyed it . They mocked him and took videos to share of the academy’s forums. But now... they just hoped they never run into Xavier again.

All this time, the elite students of the academy with backing of money and powerful backgrounds ruled the academy, but Xavier was now climbing in the hierarchy, and he had no one backing him, nor was he from a powerful family.

By the time they got their food, the atmosphere had gone from tense to suffocating. Normally, the cafeteria was a battlefield for seats—elite students guarded the prime tables, their cliques loud and territorial. But today, when Xavier and Oliver walked to their usual spot in the corner, the entire surrounding area cleared out like soldiers retreating before a king.

Three whole tables on either side stood empty. Students who’d been halfway through eating gathered their trays and hurried away, pretending it wasn’t obvious.

Oliver set his tray down with a sigh, scratching the back of his head. ”Feels like we’re sitting in a plague zone.”

Xavier sat down, unbothered, stabbing into his food without a flicker of concern. ”You’ll get used to it.”

Oliver huffed, trying to play it off, but his eyes darted around at the vacated tables. ”Yeah, easy for you to say. You’re the one they’re scared of. I’m just collateral damage sittin’ next to you.”

Xavier gave him a lazy glance, lips quirking. ”Then sit somewhere else.”

Oliver snorted, shoving a piece of bread in his mouth. ”Nah. Who else is gonna roast your ass while you act all untouchable?”

That pulled a quiet laugh out of Xavier. They slipped back into their usual rhythm—teasing, trading remarks, Oliver running his mouth while Xavier dropped sharp retorts with a calmness that only made Oliver roll his eyes harder.

The cafeteria might have turned into a shrine of silence around them, but at their table, it was just another day.

”What are you going to do after this? Second years don’t have lectures because the academy’s annual event is coming up, so we have been asked to volunteer to help.”

”Hmm~” Xavier hummed in wonder. ”The first years don’t have anything, or at least not that I am aware of. I have been skipping the academy recently so I don’t know what’s going on. But...” Xavier’s lips formed a smirk. ”I am going to visit our awesome dean, Aldric Blackwood, to have a chat with him.”