Alicia did not want to accept it.
She wanted to reject everything Elena had said—dismiss it as arrogance, as overreach, as yet another attempt by that infuriating old hag to meddle where she did not belong. Instinct urged her to dig in her heels, to bare her fangs, and claim what was hers by force if necessary.
But she was not irrational—nor was she driven by instinct alone. She knew her limits.
Alicia was many things—deadly, obsessive, fiercely protective—but she was not a mage. She could fight. She could kill. She could protect him. But she could not teach Alex what he needed when it came to magic.
That truth scraped against her pride.
She had always intended for Alex to grow strong under her guidance—strong enough that no one could ever touch him. But strength took many forms, and magic was one she had never fully claimed as her own. Watching him suppress it—hide it, ration it out of fear and secrecy—had never sat well with her, even if it had been done out of caution.
She wanted him to stand in the open and use magic freely.
And Alex wanted that too.
She had seen it in his eyes—the hunger to learn, the frustration of restraint, the quiet excitement whenever magic was involved. Carefully leashed, but never gone. Alicia might act on impulse, might speak with venom and bare emotion, but she was not blind.
Nor was she foolish.
Everything Elena had said—every irritatingly reasonable word—had struck far too close to Alicia's own thoughts.
That was what angered her the most.
The realization settled heavily in her chest.
The deed was already done.
Elena had already begun teaching Alex. He had already stepped onto that path—and more importantly, it was a path that led forward, not away from her. He was still her disciple. Still hers to guide, protect, and shape in the ways only she could.
As his master, Alicia clenched her fist slowly, then released it.
She could not—would not—be the one to stunt his growth out of possessiveness alone.
Letting his talent go to waste was unacceptable.
So, however grudgingly—
She relented.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆
With the worst of the tension finally bled away, Alicia leaned back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest.
"So," she said flatly, eyes flicking to Elena, "now that you've had your way—what exactly is your plan?"
Elena looked up from behind her desk, attentive.
"For Alex," Alicia continued, her tone sharpening with sarcasm, "surely you're not planning to just announce to the world that he can suddenly use magic. I assume you're not that foolish."
Elena smiled—a slow, composed, profoundly irritating smile that made Alicia's eye twitch.
"Yes," Elena said simply. "That is the general outline."
Alicia's aura flared instinctively. "You—"
"However," Elena interjected smoothly, raising a finger before either Alicia could explode or Alex could voice his confusion, "the narrative matters."
She leaned forward slightly.
"Have you ever heard of Mana Stenosis?"
The name hit like a switch being flipped.
Alicia's eyes widened.
"You don't mean—"
"Yes," Elena confirmed without hesitation. "Exactly that."
Understanding clicked into place with chilling clarity. Mana Stenosis. A rare, debilitating condition.
Elena continued calmly, as if she weren't laying out a scheme capable of reshaping Alex's entire future.
"We declare that Alex has been suffering from a chronic illness—Mana Stenosis—that has only recently receded."
Alicia's lips parted slowly.
"You'd blame everything on that." she muttered.
Elena nodded. "Correct."
Alex, who had been listening quietly, frowned in confusion. "Um… I'm sorry, but what exactly is Mana Stenosis?"
Elena turned her attention to him, her expression softening slightly.
"It is a chronic disease in which the mana circuits are abnormally narrowed or partially blocked." she explained. "This severely restricts mana flow throughout the body, making the mana core unstable—or preventing one from forming at all."
Alex's eyes widened.
"It's extremely rare," Elena continued. "The chances of treatment are low. And even when treatment is possible, it requires immense resources, specialized knowledge, and rare materials. Most sufferers are written off early."
"I see…" Alex murmured slowly. He paused. "…So using this," he said, realization dawning, "we can explain why I can suddenly use magic."
Elena nodded approvingly. "Exactly."
She straightened, resuming her role as principal rather than conspirator.
"The official account will be this," she said evenly. "Alex comes from a common background, with no access to advanced magical diagnostics. His condition went unnoticed for years. By chance, you—his master—discover something is wrong. After several consultations and the use of multiple rare and exotic resources and treasures, the disease is cured."
Alicia huffed softly. "Sounds too unbelievable to be true."
Elena agreed without blinking. "Which makes it more believable."
Her gaze shifted back to Alex.
"And as fortune would have it," Elena concluded, "once the obstruction receded, it was discovered that Alex possesses exceptional talent for magic."
"That actually makes sense." Alex swallowed.
"…So when do we start?" he asked, barely containing himself. The tension of the past hour hadn't dulled his excitement in the slightest—if anything, it had sharpened it.
Elena regarded him for a moment.
Then she smiled.
"Oh," she said lightly, "I've already implemented it."
Alex blinked. "Huh?"
Alicia's head snapped toward her. "What!?"
Elena folded her arms, entirely unbothered. "I was waiting for the right opportunity. And frankly, there is no better one than the upcoming Nine Academy Tournament."
The words landed like a thunderclap.
Alex stiffened. "Wait. That Inter-Academy Tournament?"
Elena nodded. "Your application has already been submitted. And accepted."
Alex stared at her.
Alicia's aura flickered—dangerous, volatile.
"You did what?" she said, teeth grinding.
Elena met her glare head-on. "I enrolled him in both the Knight and Mage contests."
"So this is it," Alicia snapped, her voice sharp with accusation. "Your grand plan. You wanted my disciple to win your stupid tournament and bring your academy a trophy."
Her fingers tightened around Alex's sleeve, possessive and unmistakable.
"That was your goal from the start, wasn't it?" Elena didn't deny it.
"I won't pretend it wasn't my initial intention." she said calmly. "I am the principal of this academy. Its prestige matters."
Alicia scoffed. "At least you're honest."
"But," Elena continued, her gaze shifting back to Alex, "that stopped being the main reason the moment I properly assessed his talent."
Her voice softened—just slightly.
"He's not a tool," Elena said. "He's an unpolished gem. And I refuse to let something like that dull in the dark."
Alex swallowed, heat creeping up his neck.
Alicia's scowl deepened—but something conflicted flickered beneath it.
Elena turned fully toward Alex. "For now, only a very small number of people know about your circumstances. Officially, you're still a Knight faculty student who can't use magic. Nothing more. So relax a little."
Alex hesitated. "When does the tournament start?"
Elena smiled. "In one week."
Alex inhaled sharply.
A week.
Alicia cursed under her breath.
"Tch. You really don't waste time." she muttered.
The conversation continued for a short while longer—details, boundaries, expectations. And throughout it all, Alicia made one thing abundantly clear.
"Don't get any funny ideas," Alicia said coldly near the end. "He's mine. You teach him. You guide him. But you don't claim him."
Elena met her gaze, unruffled.
"Good."
That was that.
With a final glare, Alicia turned on her heel and tugged Alex toward the door.
"Come on," she said curtly—then, softer, meant only for him, "I've waited long enough."
Alex blinked, then nodded. "Y-Yes, Master."
As they left the office together, Alicia's grip didn't loosen.
If anything, her precious disciple was finally back where he belonged.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆
"For the first time," Elena said quietly, "I'm worried about who that boy might become—simply because of who loves him."
The office remained silent.
Near the spot where Alex had been standing moments ago, the air shimmered faintly.
Aurora hovered there, arms folded, her gaze lingering on the closed door as if she could still see him beyond it.
"Love like that shapes people." she murmured softly, more to herself than anyone else. "Whether it sharpens them… or cages them."
She tilted her head, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips.
"Guess we'll find out."