As I walked away from the Great Banyan, a sense of deep satisfaction settled over me. Kaelus bobbed along beside me, his usual placid aura now tinged with what felt like smug agreement. We had played the game and won.
Patricia fell into step beside me, her expression a mask of professional curiosity. "Young Master," she began, her voice a low, confidential murmur, "are we returning to Professor Elara's orientation group?"
Mr. Finch, who had practically sprinted to catch up with us, answered for me, his voice still breathless with a mixture of awe and bureaucratic panic. "No, Miss. That will not be necessary." He consulted the Headmaster's note as if it might have changed its mind. "As per direct order, Lord Wight and his attendants are to be escorted to the senior dormitories in the Azure Spire, effective immediately."
He led us to a residential wing of the academy that was a world away from the bustling courtyards of the junior campus. The air here was quieter, more serious, and the students we passed were older, their gazes carrying the weight of experience and ambition. Our assigned suite was less a dorm room and more a small, luxurious apartment.
The main door opened into a spacious living area with a plush sofa, a heavy oak table, and a small, fully-equipped kitchen off to one side. A set of large crystal windows offered a breathtaking panoramic view of the floating continent. Off the main room were three doors: one led to a grand master bedroom, and the other two to smaller but still comfortable quarters for Bob and Patricia. The final door opened into what Mr. Finch called my "meditation chamber." It was a beautiful, sunlit room with a large, arched window taking up most of the far wall, adjacent to my own bedroom's view. The Headmaster, it seemed, had a sense of humor.
After a solid ten minutes of reciting boring instructions my schedule, my lead professor, the academy's code of conduct he finally departed.
The moment the door clicked shut, I turned to the meditation room. "Bob," I said, pointing to a large, ornate bookshelf against the far wall. "Move that for me, please." Why do it myself when I have a literal mountain of loyal muscle to do it for me?
With a grunt of minimal effort, he shifted the heavy piece of furniture aside, revealing a blank section of stone wall. I knelt and, with a single, practiced motion of my finger, engraved a complex activation rune into the floorboards, a near-invisible swirl of lines that looked like a natural knot in the wood. "Alright, push it back."
He did. I walked over and, for the benefit of my audience, pretended to examine the spine of a thick, leather-bound book. I gave it a slight tug. Tes, receiving the signal, activated the rune. With a faint whisper of displaced air, the entire bookshelf slid silently into the wall, revealing the hidden alcove behind it.
"Perfect," I said. With Bob's help, we unpacked the tarp-covered frame and assembled it in the alcove. Everyone had been fussing over my explosive experiments for nothing. My new workshop was a separate pocket space; I had systems in place to handle any… unforeseen rapid disassembly events.
Once the frame was secure, I placed my hand on it and channeled a small amount of mana. The empty space within the frame shimmered, then solidified into a glowing, opaque white portal. As I stepped through, the bookshelf slid back into place, sealing the entrance. Tes, create a note to attach a magitech camera in this meditation room. I want to be able to monitor my alibi.
The interior of my real workshop was a marvel of magic and engineering. The walls seemed to be made of pure light, a seamless white void that could display schematics or simulate environments at my command. Pulsing, crimson mana pathways snaked across the floor and ceiling like a circulatory system, supplying power from the second dungeon core, which was embedded in the very center of the ceiling like a dark, beating heart. Furnaces, power tools, and analytical arrays were all powered by this central source. Against one wall stood the familiar silhouettes of Mark II, Mark III, and Mark V. On the wall beside them, nearly thirty Plasma Katana hilts were mounted in charging cradles. You can never have enough katanas.
I stepped back out into the mundane world. Patricia looked up, her expression fraught with concern. She gave a small, apologetic curtsy. "I am so sorry, Young Master. In the rush, I wasn't able to procure any groceries from the main town. I cannot cook you a proper meal."
"It's fine, Patricia," I said, a genuine smile touching my lips. "Let's go see what the academy cafeteria has to offer."
As we approached the grand dining hall, a commotion near the entrance drew our attention. A young man stood before a woman, his arms spread wide in a gesture of dramatic proclamation. His voice was the auditory equivalent of a peacock's tail loud, ostentatious, and designed solely to attract attention. "Our union is destiny! It would unite the fires of the south with the shadows of the north! The kingdom needs our strength!"
He pointed vaguely in my direction, though he couldn't see me yet. "Do you truly believe the rumors? That some pampered child can protect this kingdom? It's a scare tactic, my lady, nothing more! I am the one who can secure our future!"
I sighed internally. The voice was just arrogant noise, but the woman at the center of the spectacle looked… familiar. She turned, her crimson eyes sweeping the crowd with an expression of bored irritation, and my breath caught.
It was Nyxia Black. But this wasn't the eleven-year-old girl I had patted on the cheek. This was an eighteen-year-old woman who had grown into her mother's chilling beauty. Her jet-black hair fell in a silken sheet to her waist, and her skin was the color of flawless porcelain. She had the same cold, statuesque grace as Duchess Lilith, a predator hiding in plain sight.
Her gaze landed on me. It passed over me, then snapped back, her crimson eyes widening in shock. The silver hair. The sapphire eyes. There was no question.
"Alarion Wight," she blurted out, her voice a sharp crack in the relative quiet.
Pin-drop silence. Then, a collective gasp rippled through the onlookers.
Nyxia recovered quickly, her shock hardening into cold suspicion. "How are you here? This is a senior-only area."
The man behind her, the suitor, saw his opening. All he saw was an eleven-year-old boy, clearly out of his depth and protected by his attendants. He stepped forward, a condescending smirk on his handsome, tan-skinned face. His hair was the color of spun gold, and his eyes a fiery amber.
"I will prove my worth to you, Lady Nyxia," he declared. "I, Ignis Flavius, Crown Prince of the Cinderfall Hegemony, challenge you to a duel!"
He dramatically pulled a glove from his belt and threw it at my feet. It landed with a soft flump on the polished stone. A small, brilliantly plumed bird on his shoulder trilled, its feathers shimmering with nascent fire. A phoenix.
I looked from the glove to his face, utterly baffled. Damn it. I just wanted some food. Why did I get pulled into this mess?
He took my silence for fear. "What's the matter? Is the great and powerful House of Wight, the family of the Lion, filled with nothing but frightened cats?"
Kaelus, sensing my spike in annoyance, floated forward, hovering menacingly between me and the prince.
There was no backing out now. To refuse a formal challenge here would be a stain on my family's honor. I couldn't show any of my trump cards not the armor, not the katana, and certainly not my draconic magic. People knowing I could use Rank 5 magic without my dragon even hatching would raise too many impossible questions. They would have to assume I passed the entrance test by demonstrating a knight's skill. Only the Headmaster knew the truth, and my father had assured me he could be trusted.
Fine. I'll lose with dignity. Or maybe fight to a draw.
I finally looked up, meeting the Prince's arrogant gaze, and gave a single, slow nod of acceptance.