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[Supreme Soul Academy — Male Dormitory]
Flar hadn't even finished his sentence when a violent pounding echoed through the room — so loud it sounded like the door might shatter.
Cloud walked toward it carelessly, turned the handle slowly, and pulled open the brown wooden door, carved with simple patterns. No one was there.
He shut it hard, irritation clear in his tone.
> "I hate these childish games."
> "Maybe it's a special welcome for newcomers?"
Flar said, half-joking, but before his words even settled, the knocking resumed — louder, fiercer this time.
> "What a cursed day! Wait, wait, I'm coming!"
Cloud snapped, frowning as he stomped toward the door again.
His steps this time were sharp, echoing anger and impatience. He gripped the handle, flung the door open—
No one… again.
But before he could look down the hallway, a voice came from below.
> "Cloud!"
Startled, he turned to Flar and Arian.
> "Guys… I think I've lost it. I can hear voices from hell!"
Suddenly, a loud, harsh voice erupted behind him:
> "I'm right here, you filthy commoners! And you—who dared mention hell—who were you talking about!?"
Cloud turned his head and looked down.
Before him stood a short boy with sleepy, wide eyes, light brown hair almost blonde, and a sharp little nose.
> "Ah, sorry, shorty. Didn't see you there. But really, it's your fault—no footsteps, no sound when I opened the door. Anyway, my apologies. See? I can be polite, shorty."
Cloud's mocking tone and head-pat made the boy's face turn crimson. Steam practically puffed out from his ears as he gritted his teeth.
> "I'm not short! And even my name shouldn't be uttered by your filthy tongues!"
Arian tilted his head, thinking.
> "Wait… I've seen you before… Tombs? No, no… Tom! Yeah, your name's Tom!"
The three of them began chanting together:
> "Tom, Tom, Tom…"
The boy's face reddened deeper than a ripe cherry.
> "Stop saying my name, you cursed commoners!"
He shoved Cloud aside and stormed into the room, pointing furiously at Arian.
> "I didn't come here to play! I came to warn you — don't stand in Lord Edmond's way, or you'll meet a terrible fate!"
Cloud scratched his chin thoughtfully.
> "Edmond? Edmond… oh, Edmond Clown, right? The Clown family's boy?"
> "Say Lord Edmond!" Tom barked, furious.
But Cloud continued, unfazed.
> "Yeah, Edmond Clown. That's the one."
Arian placed a hand on Tom's shoulder, smiling.
> "And if he stands in my way, should I just smile back? What kind of pathetic logic is that, Tom?"
> "I told you not to say my name!" Tom shouted, his face now as red as a tomato.
Then Flar's arrogant tone sliced through the tension:
> "And who exactly are you in the noble hierarchy, little rat? I know your type. The Belgrads…
A bit of fame thanks to Count Belgrad, but still shadows to the true nobles.
If I recall correctly — Tom Belgrad, fourteen, from the Belgrad County in the western desert lands. Your father was a governor before he was granted the title of Count. You specialize in sand magic, and you're nothing but Edmond Clown's lapdog.
You think threatening my friend will do you any good? Do you really believe the Clown family would risk losing business ties with one of the Three Great Trade Guilds — the Zeffel family — and the Belgrads losing our support?
What do you think will happen if I tell my father? Your entire family might starve to death!"
Tom looked as if he were about to explode, like a blacksmith's furnace ready to burst. But he bit his tongue and said coldly:
> "I'll investigate you. I'll find out if you're truly of noble blood or a fraud using the Zeffel name. And when I do, I'll personally see to your punishment."
He turned to Arian, voice rising.
> "And you, commoner — this is your last warning. You can't stand against the Clown family!"
He smirked, half turning toward the door.
> "I'll leave now… or maybe not! Hahahaha!"
Cloud snorted.
> "People still make that kind of joke?"
Flar shook his head.
> "Nobles and their ridiculous sense of humor…"
Cloud pointed at him, then patted his shoulder with a wry smile.
> "You know… I didn't like you at first, but you're starting to grow on me."
Arian, smiling softly to himself, whispered:
> "Ramon… I finally made friends. You were right — the academy really is a wonderful place."
Then he turned to Flar, hugging him tightly.
> "Flar, thank you… for standing up for me, and for calling me your friend. It feels… nice, doesn't it?"
Flar raised his nose proudly.
> "I despise those who abuse power. It's forbidden anyway — only heirs to the throne can do that."
Arian laughed, his smile pure and bright.
> "Thanks again."
The praise went straight to Flar's head. He imagined himself a hero who had slain a dragon to save Arian — his daydream so intense that drool nearly slipped down his chin.
Arian and Cloud said in unison, disgusted:
> "Gross."
But Flar, ever curious, wasn't done.
> "Since you're so grateful, how about sharing some personal information about yourself?"
Arian dashed out of the room, while Flar chased him with a notebook and pen.
> "Leave me alone! You're terrifying!"
"Information! News! Fresh news!" Flar yelled, his tongue practically sticking out.
The dormitory turned upside down with their racket, annoying every other student around.
Except for Cloud — who sat back, smiling sincerely, warmly, and deeply.
> "So this… is what you meant, sister…"
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