Emilio walked out, his expression unreadable. Around him, students began to avert their eyes, some whispering, others avoiding his gaze entirely. He didn't care. He kept walking.
Serina trailed behind, still lost in thought. The tension back there, the way Emilio had stood his ground… it stuck in her chest. Neira, on the other hand, stared quietly at Emilio's back.
He looked like someone else entirely just now. Was this what being tied to politics did to people?
"Emilio!"
He didn't respond. He just kept walking until the halls were quieter—until fewer students were around.
Then, suddenly, his hands began to tremble. He dropped to his knees, sweat rolling down his face.
"Damn it…" he whispered, staring at his shaking hands.
"Prince—" Serina caught herself, "I mean… Emilio."
He gave a bitter laugh.
"Don't ever call me that stupid title. Emilio is fine. Treat me like before—like how Neira called me a fool."
Neira turned away, arms crossed. She'd forgotten he was royalty and cursed him straight to his face.
"Tch… Idiot. Forget about that. Are you okay or not?"
"I'm fine. Don't worry—"
"It doesn't look like you're fine."
All three froze.
Silvius stood nearby, hands in his coat pockets, eyes on Emilio. None of them had sensed his presence until he spoke.
"Instructor…"
"Don't 'instructor' me now. You're clearly shaken. What happened?"
Emilio laughed weakly, scratching the back of his head.
"Well… I lost my temper, maybe just a little."
Silvius sighed heavily.
"This team… You're all going to give me gray hair. I swear, you're aging me."
"But it was that prince's fault!" Neira snapped.
"He wouldn't shut up about Kael!"
That caught Silvius's attention. He frowned, thinking it over.
If Daranth's sniffing around Kael already, it's worse than I thought. The duel must've stirred up more than just rumors.
Still, he masked his thoughts and shrugged.
"Well, now you've made enemies with royalty. Great job, team five."
Neira flinched. Serina looked down.
Silvius clapped his hands once.
"Enough brooding. To class. Now. I'm teaching you ether control today. Get your heads straight—you'll need them."
***************
—Later That Night—
Kael was still tied to the tree.
His eyes would close, then force themselves open again. It had been two full days—no food, no water, no sleep. No one came to see him anymore, except Serina… and even then, he'd chased her off every time. Yet she still kept coming.
He didn't understand why.
Now he was too tired to care. His body was numb, his lips dry, and the worst part?
The Ash Crow had gone silent.
Since the duel—nothing No insult,No mocking but Just silence.
"Please… talk to me. Say something."
Nothing.
He exhaled sharply, eyes drifting up to the moon.
"Haa…"
He was too weak to even feel angry anymore. No food, no water, no rest—just pain and silence.
"Maybe this is better," he whispered.
Maybe dying here, forgotten, was fitting. Maybe that's why the king had spared him.
Because he was insignificant.
He'd come to the academy thinking it would be the beginning of his rise. Instead, it was a reminder of how far he still had to fall.
For the first time since the massacre, Kael wanted to give up.
The humiliation, the failure, the weight of his name—it was too much. He had believed his journey would be straightforward, a straight path to power and revenge. But now? He saw the truth.
He was weak. And worse, he was still that helpless boy from eight years ago.
He laughed bitterly to himself.
"Mother… Father… I'm sorry."
Then something stirred.
A presence.
Kael turned his head with what little strength he had left. From the direction of the Grand Hall, someone was approaching—walking calmly, each step echoing in the night. The glow of the torches barely lit his face, but Kael's vision cleared just enough to recognize him.
The headmaster.
Orvahn V. Thalres.
He wore a calm, unreadable expression as he approached, hands behind his back, stopping just a few feet away from Kael.
Kael chuckled weakly, his voice dry and cracked.
"Here to mock me too? Going to spit on the Veyrion name like the rest of them?"
Orvahn tilted his head slightly.
"Mock your family…? Maybe. Maybe not."
Kael lowered his gaze. He didn't have the strength to argue. He didn't even care anymore.
That familiar emptiness returned—the same cold, hollow feeling he had the night of the massacre. When everything was ripped from him and he lay dying on the floor, wishing someone would just end it.
The headmaster said nothing for a long moment. He studied the boy in front of him.
Silvius had told him Kael was the kind to erupt with fury if someone so much as whispered ill of his family. But now… there was no reaction. No fire.
Just silence.
The spark that once fueled Kael's rage—the thing that kept him alive—was flickering out.
Orvahn's jaw tightened, his fist clenching behind his back. It pained him to see a child this broken.
Too many kids, he thought, dragged into the games of the powerful.
Too many like this one.
That darkness Kael was in… he was sinking deeper.And sometimes, the only way out—is when someone reaches in and pulls you free.
Maybe this was the headmaster's way of repaying a family long buried in ash.
The man stood there—arms crossed, back straight, eyes sharp.
"So… this is it, Veyron?The heir of Duskwatch, broken by a teacher's silence?"
Kael's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't heard that voice coming.
"You'll die here? Not by blade—but by pity?"
Kael said nothing. He lowered his head again this old man was annoying so he would Let him talk. When he's done, I'll end this suffering.
SMACK.
A sharp slap cracked across his face.
His head jerked sideways. Blood from his cracked lip splattered on the bark behind him.
He blinked Slowly with his Dull eyes. For a second, he didn't even register what had happened—only the sting burning on his cheek.
He looked up, dazed—until the headmaster met him with a glare of his own.
"Good," the man muttered. "You're still in there."
He knelt, bringing himself eye-level with Kael's bruised face.
"Kael Veyron," he said quietly, "were you planning to end your life?"
"W-what?"
"Shut up. Just answer. Yes or no."
Kael clenched his jaw, then looked away.
"I… I don't know."
"You think this is how your story ends?"
"Tied to a tree like a warning sign? Forgotten like a footnote?"
No answer.
"Let me ask you something, boy.
Why did you hold a sword in the first place?"
Kael glanced up at him, dry blood staining his lip.
"…Because of revenge."