Neither of them moved toward the noise. Dominic glanced once more down the corridor then turned back into the room.
Sevran followed without comment, clearly thinking the same thing.
Whatever argument was brewing out there it was not their problem. At least not yet. And Dominic wanted to keep it like that as long as possible.
Dominic was quietly glad for that. He had no interest in watching trouble unfold and it seemed Sevran felt the same.
They sat back down on their respective beds as voices continued to echo faintly from outside.
For a while, they talked about small things again. Like what kind of classes would be like in here, rumors about instructors, and guesses about what first-year training would be like.
Then Sevran leaned back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.
"Hey," he said suddenly. "Do you think… if we commoners had Bloodmarks as good as theirs, we'd be standing on equal ground with nobles?"
Dominic did not answer right away.
He looked at Sevran, then at the wall, finally his gaze settling on the stone floor.
The question was not new to him. He had thought about it more times than he cared to admit.
After a moment, he spoke.
"In theory alone we should be able to," Dominic said.
Sevran turned his head to look at him. "But we all know what happened."
"Yeah. That's not how it works, right?" Dominic continued. "Bloodmarks are the reason nobles sit where they do, but they're not the only reason."
Sevran just nodded with a helpless expression and let Dominic continue.
"Commoners don't dare oppose nobles because we don't have strong enough Bloodmarks even as a group. We have numbers, sure. But nobles have more power."
"Yeah. That's really making me angry," Sevran said.
"They have all of it," Dominic replied. "Strength, money, influence, and politics. They control resources, training grounds, and cultivation materials. They also have knowledge passed down through generations."
Sevran's jaw tightened. "All because of our Bloodmarks."
"Yeah. Because what their Bloodmarks could do from the very beginning," Dominic said. "A commoner might be born with a strong Bloodmark. Something battle-oriented that is strong enough to fight back."
"Yeah. I heard that happens before," Sevran said quietly.
"It does," Dominic agreed. "But it's rare. And when someone like that tries to really rise up to start something like a revolt to seize power, they get crushed."
Sevran clenched his fist. "You're right. Damnation…"
"It was all because of their resources," Dominic corrected. "Nobles have time to train. Money to buy materials and teachers who know what they're doing. While commoners are busy surviving. Working fields, carrying loads. Just trying to eat."
Sevran was silent.
"So even if a commoner has talent," Dominic went on, "they're fighting people who had a head start the moment they were born. And when nobles feel threatened, they don't fight fair."
"They never do," Sevran muttered.
Dominic sighed. "They don't have to. That's why revolutions fail. Not because commoners are weak but because nobles are more than prepared."
The room fell quiet for a moment.
Sevran leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"So in the end," he said, "people like us just… accept it."
"For most of us," Dominic replied. "Yeah."
Sevran let out a low breath through his nose. "That's frustrating."
"It is," Dominic said. "But that's the world we live in."
Sevran glanced at him, eyes sharp. "Are you someone who plans to accept it forever?"
Dominic met his gaze and said nothing at first.
Outside, the raised voices in the corridor slowly faded. But the tension was most definitely still lingering.
Dominic let out a sigh.
"I guess so," he said at last. "I just want to make enough money to live a decent life with my grandpa. That's it. I don't plan to oppose nobles or anything like that. Getting involved in business like that would only bring us trouble, right?"
Sevran looked at him in silence.
Dominic was not sure what he saw in his eyes. There was no anger there, but there was something else. A quiet intensity, restrained but present, as if Sevran was holding onto thoughts he chose not to voice.
For a moment, Dominic wondered if Sevran was thinking about a path very different from what he was thinking.
If that was true, Dominic wanted no part in it.
Finally, Sevran nodded and sighed.
"You're right," he said, then made a smile. "I guess it's better to just avoid trouble with nobles whenever we can."
"Yeah," Dominic replied. "That's for the best."
The conversation ended there.
Night fell over the dormitory cliff, and the corridor outside gradually quieted.
Even so, their third roommate never arrived. The empty bed remained untouched, its sheets neatly folded.
Dominic wondered briefly if something had happened. Or if the Academy simply did not have enough first-year students this year to fill every room.
In the end, he decided it did not matter.
The next morning came quickly.
After washing up in the small bathroom connected to their room, Dominic dressed in the Academy uniform laid out for new students. A black robe bearing the crimson sigil of the Crimson Arcanum Academy across the back.
On the upper right sleeve was a single stripe, marking him as a first-year.
Beneath the robe was a plain white shirt and black trousers. Simple, standard, equal for everyone.
Sevran was of course dressed the same.
They left the room together and joined the flow of students moving through the corridors.
Not long after, the Academy hall lay ahead, drawing them forward along with hundreds of others.
Dominic walked in silence, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, uniforms brushing past one another.
The first-years lined up in orderly rows inside the grand hall.
Dominic stood among them, surrounded by black robes and quiet anticipation.
At the front, professors formed a measured line. Their expressions were varied.
At the center stood Headmaster August Valerion. His tall frame was impossible to miss, silver hair and beard shimmering softly under the hall's light.
He stepped forward and smiled, the gesture calm and confident.
"Welcome to the Crimson Arcanum Academy," August said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hall. "Today marks the beginning of your path. What you become from this point onward will depend on your effort, discipline, and resolve."
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