In the Orientation Hall, hundreds of students had gathered, both new and returning. Among them were fresh young men and ladies, alongside seasoned students standing amidst the masses with confidence. And they had every right to.
Everyone standing in this room had proven themselves to some degree. Each held the potential to rise to greatness.
Everyone... except one.
As Caelus moved through the crowd, countless eyes trailed after him. His black hair shifted with each step, and the faint gleam of his lavender eyes barely peeked through the lenses of his circular glasses. Subtle, but undeniable marks of identity.
"That's him, isn't it? The fallen from House Luvelaine..."
"Yeah. I heard they marched to war and never came back. So how the hell is he still alive after five years?"
"Probably deserted and left the rest to die."
"Hush! Don't say that out loud!"
"Why not? What's a fallen noble gonna do? How'd he even get accepted here in the first place?"
Caelus let out a quiet sigh. Ever since his return was made public a week ago, this was all he'd heard. Whispers of scorn and disdain, the shameful murmurs of a noble who once basked in glory and now stood branded as a disgrace.
But he paid them no mind. Words from childish mouths meant nothing to him. Especially when compared to the incessant ramblings of a certain demon commander masquerading as a cat. If anything, the court of human opinion was far less irritating than her.
As Caelus made his way through the hall, the crowd subtly parted. Not out of respect, but suspicion, curiosity, and whispered judgment. The tension in the room was thick.
A cluster of nobles lounged against one of the columns. One of them, a sharp-eyed boy with a smirk too large for his face, nudged his companion.
"Well, would you look at that. If it isn't the ghost of Luvelaine," he sneered loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Thought the worms would've finished picking your bones clean on the battlefield."
"Maybe he crawled out of a ditch. Looks like he belongs there," the second one chuckled.
"Pathetic," a third one spat. "It's insulting, really. Letting a disgraced name walk these halls."
Before any more could be said, a calm voice cut through the group.
"Stop."
The nobles flinched as a figure stepped forward. Taller than the others, his presence carried a practiced authority. Light blonde hair neatly swept back, sharp coral eyes, and a uniform marked with the insignia of House Reinhall, a prominent name in the empire.
Taylor Reinhall.
He approached Caelus with a measured gait, hands clasped behind his back, though there was a flicker of something colder in his gaze.
"You're Caelus de Luvelaine," Taylor said, his tone polite, yet unmistakably edged. "I have to admit... I didn't believe the rumors when I first heard them. That the sole survivor of House Luvelaine had returned... and was granted a seat at Rhodeia."
Caelus said nothing, his face unreadable behind those glasses.
Taylor's lips twitched into a faint smirk.
"No words? Or perhaps you think yourself too important to answer."
Still, silence.
The nobles behind Taylor chuckled under their breath, emboldened by their superior's presence.
Taylor stepped closer, dropping his voice just enough that only Caelus could hear.
"You shouldn't be here. The dead should stay buried, and the disgraced should know their place. So tell me. What strings did you pull? What price did you pay to crawl back into a world that no longer has any use for you?"
Caelus met his gaze, unflinching.
Absolutely nothing. Not a flicker of anger, no rebuttal, no insult. Just the same dispassionate stare that had made even demons hesitate.
Caelus exhaled a slow breath as if expelling nothing more than stale air. Having entertained him for long enough, he turned away in silence.
Taylor called out behind him, voice laced with a mock casualness.
"I suppose it's no surprise. You're strikingly similar to your father before—"
He caught himself, but it was too late. The air changed in an instant.
Caelus stopped.
For a moment, the entire hall seemed to fall silent. Within him, something violent and cold stirred, A storm of blood-soaked memories and unhealed wounds. The image of his father's final moments beneath a grey sky flashed unbidden in his mind.
The urge to act gripped him, but he steadied himself. The storm quieted, though the remnants of that fury lingered in the stillness of his gaze.
He turned, not with rage, but with a stare so empty it made Taylor shift uncomfortably.
Before another word could be spoken, a figure stepped forward between them.
A girl.
She was striking in a way that was impossible to miss. Her hair was the color of fresh snowfall, tied into a ponytail that swayed with sharp elegance. Her cloaked uniform parted slightly, revealing an unstandardized, thin robe beneath, and when her scarlet eyes fixed on Taylor, the hall felt colder.
The weight of her presence sent a hush over the gathered students.
"That's enough, Taylor."
Three words. Spoken not with anger, but the kind of absolute authority that made even seasoned men fall silent.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Wait, that's Rosalina..."
"Of House Sigurdia? One of the Four Pillars?"
"Holy shit... Sigurdia and Reinhall are facing off."
Even Taylor hesitated, his confidence cracking for the first time. He clenched his jaw, then forced a stiff, practiced smile.
"My apologies, Caelus," he muttered, bowing his head just enough to be polite without true sincerity.
Without waiting for a response, Taylor turned and strode off, his entourage scrambling to follow.
Rosalina remained where she stood, her gaze lingering on Caelus for a long, unreadable moment. Then, without a word, she moved past him and disappeared into the crowd.
The moment passed, but its weight lingered.
Caelus exhaled softly and resumed his walk, as though none of it had ever happened.
However, he barely made it a few steps before someone ran up and threw an arm around his shoulder.
"That was a pretty sick performance, man!" the stranger said brightly.
In that instant, Caelus silently took back his earlier complaint. Alune didn't hold a candle to these bothersome rodents.
He turned, casting a sideways glance at the overly familiar assailant. It was the guy who defended him yesterday.
Kain Diadalin.
"I don't know how you pulled it off, but you actually got Reinhall to apologize. That's a damn achievement. Well... okay, I guess it was mostly Rosalina — but hey! It still counts in my book."
Caelus twisted his neck slightly to glance at the arm still slung over his shoulder.
Kain quickly caught on and pulled back, chuckling awkwardly.
"Oh! My bad, my bad. I tend to get a little too friendly with people I like. Hope you don't mind."
He instead offered a hand, and Caelus stared at it with no reaction at all.
Before he could think about whether to take it or break it, a shining orb of light appeared at the front of the hall.
The hall fell to a hush.
"Welcome, heirs of proud houses, children of fortune, and those rare few who've clawed their way here by merit alone. I am the headmistress of Rhodeia College, the Empire's most prestigious and ruthless institution."
A subtle pulse of mana filled the chamber as crystalline sigils lit up along the walls.
"To begin your tenure here, you will undertake... a certain test I've prepared. A trial of survival, strength, and wit. You may form alliances, but know that trust is a rare and valuable commodity in this world. And one final note: any who fail to obtain a requisite number of points by the trial's end... will not be permitted to remain at Rhodeia College."
Caelus couldn't quite put his finger on it, but her voice... she sounded familiar.
"Ah, and worry not. Any grievous injuries shall be treated upon your return... should you return."
With that, a deep, resonating rumble shuddered through the Orientation Hall.
"W-whoa! What the?!" Kain exclaimed.
In an instant, a suffocating pressure swept over the gathered students, driving most of them to their knees.
And before anyone could even rationalize what was happening, they were taken by a flash of white.