"Young master… young master, wake up."
The soft but persistent voice of his maid, Lisa, pulled Ray Nouzen out of the warmth of his dreams.
He groaned, dragging the blanket over his head as though the fabric alone could shield him from responsibility.
"Five more minutes…" he muttered, his voice muffled.
Lisa, standing patiently at his bedside, clasped her hands together with practiced calm. "If you don't wake up, I'll be forced to inform Lord Darion that you refused to prepare for the academy."
That name pierced through his drowsiness like a knife. Ray cracked one eye open, glaring at her with deep blue eyes that, despite their sleepiness, carried a sharpness that could make lesser servants falter. Lisa, however, was long immune.
He snatched up a pillow and flung it at her. She caught it with the same ease one might swat a fly, her expression unchanging.
"Annoying woman," Ray muttered under his breath as he sat up, his dark hair falling messily over his forehead.
"One day, I'll make you regret tormenting me like this," he added, dragging himself upright with all the energy of a man condemned.
Lisa's lips curved into the faintest hint of amusement. "Then I shall look forward to that day, young master. For now, you should prepare yourself."
Ray's glare lingered on her for another moment before he trudged into the washroom.
A short bath later, he stepped out dressed in the formal uniform of the academy: a fitted black jacket with silver trim, the fabric stiff and irritating against his neck. The crest—a rising sun behind a crossed sword and spear—was stitched across his chest, glowing faintly with enchanted thread. His mana-lined undershirt pulsed with a subtle rhythm, resonating with his own aura. Combat trousers and polished boots completed the outfit, though the expression on his face suggested no amount of uniform would ever inspire enthusiasm.
Lisa studied him briefly. He had turned fifteen just a week ago, and though he slouched like a man twice his age, she could not help but notice he had grown taller, his frame slowly beginning to sharpen.
"You look presentable, young master," she said softly.
Ray didn't bother to look at her. "Save your empty flattery."
She let the remark pass as they began the long walk toward the dining hall. Ray's suite sat high on the fifth floor of the estate, and the family's peculiar restrictions on elevator use meant the descent always felt like a punishment in itself.
"Tell me," Ray said, his voice low, "is he here?"
Lisa knew at once who he meant. "No. Lord Darion left for Karasha before dawn. An important meeting."
The tension in Ray's shoulders eased immediately, his mood lifting. "Good."
By the time they reached the dining hall, the sun had fully risen, casting warm light across the polished marble floor. His mother, Esther Nouzen, greeted him with her usual gentle smile. "Good morning, Ray."
His elder brothers, Karis and Rem, already seated, offered polite nods.
Ray returned them in kind, slipping into his chair with effortless grace. Though lazy by nature, his table manners were refined to perfection—each movement deliberate, precise, as though he'd been carved out of some noble etiquette manual.
Esther's smile faltered as she spoke again. "Your father worries about you. You should start training seriously, Ray. Locking yourself in your room all day will lead nowhere. Look at Karis and Rem—they devote themselves, body and spirit. You could learn from them."
Ray speared a piece of bread with his fork, chewed slowly, and replied with nothing more than a disinterested, "Mhm."
Her brow creased. "If you fail to achieve a respectable rank at the academy, your father will have no choice but to take measures. Your luxuries will be the first to go."
Ray's silence was answer enough. Esther sighed, her frustration buried beneath the practiced composure of a noblewoman.
After the meal, Ray slipped into the back of the family's carriage. John, the driver, inclined his head. "Good morning, young master. Ready for the academy?"
Ray leaned against the seat, eyes half-lidded. "Ready? No. Resigned? Perhaps."
The journey lasted half an hour, the world blurring past until the academy loomed in the distance: a fortress of stone and steel, vast towers reaching skyward, mana turrets humming faintly along the walls. Guards in gleaming armor stood at attention, their presence a reminder that prestige was always built upon vigilance.
Ray let out a long sigh. "Looks more like a prison than a school."
Inside, the air buzzed with youthful voices, a storm of ambition and chatter. As he entered the classroom, a sharp, mocking voice cut through the noise.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up—the academy's number one sleeper."
Ray turned his head lazily toward the speaker. Ashley, a petite girl with striking blue hair and sharp black eyes, leaned casually against her desk, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Ray gave her a flat look. "I wasn't aware you were keeping track. Boredom must suit you."
Ashley's smirk faltered, but she recovered quickly. "If it weren't for your father's influence, you wouldn't even be here."
He brushed past her, flicking her shoulder lightly as he passed. "Then you should pray to him every night, since my presence clearly makes your day so exciting."
Slumping into a seat at the back of the class, Ray stretched out and promptly rested his head on the desk.
Nearby, Magnus scrolled through his mana-streaming device, his voice brimming with excitement. "Did you guys hear? Kaiser Hawkins just killed a Tier-2 beast—at his age! That's insane!"
Cristina clasped her hands, her eyes sparkling. "Really? He's incredible… and so handsome, too. Maybe I'll get my fairytale ending here."
Ashley's lips curled into a knowing smile. "You might have your chance. My mother told me he's enrolling tomorrow."
Cristina squealed with delight, her voice carrying across the classroom.
Ray's ears twitched at the name. Kaiser Hawkins. The prodigy blessed by the gods at seven years old. He cracked one eye open, studying Ashley briefly. For her to know something that should have been confidential… curious.
Still, he let his head sink back onto the desk.
"Interesting," he muttered. "But not worth losing sleep over."
And just like that, he closed his eyes again, drifting back toward the comforting abyss of slumber