The next morning, the castle grounds were unusually quiet.
A thin layer of mist drifted over the courtyard as the students stood gathered in front of a freshly made grave.
Kail's name was carved onto the stone—simple, rough, as if even the sculptor had been in a hurry to get it done.
Raze stood among his classmates, his hands hidden inside his sleeves, expression unreadable.
Mia kept her head slightly lowered, eyes trembling.
Seraphina stood a little apart from them, her pale hair brushing over her shoulders, face calm—but her fingers were clenched just enough to betray the storm inside.
Their teacher stood at the front, saying nothing, simply offering a moment of silence.
Behind the group, faint whispers started to rise.
"Did you hear? Lady Seraphina completely obliterated that monster…" one boy muttered.
"Yeah… but it's weird. The monster's body—something that powerful should've been taken for study or stored. But it's missing."
"Missing? You mean someone stole that?"
Another whisper, more hushed:
"No one knows what happened to it…"
Seraphina didn't react, but Raze noticed her shoulders tense—just for a heartbeat.
He didn't look back at the whispering students.
He didn't need to.
He already knew who had taken the monster's remains.
And why.
Raze's gaze swept over the group, studying their faces one by one.
"They've barely been here a few days," he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.
"Already seen one of their own die."
His eyes lingered on Kail's grave for a moment before shifting back to the others.
"And yet… they're still standing. No breakdowns, no panic."
He exhaled lightly. "They understand now that they can die here. That this place doesn't care who they are."
He watched their stiff postures, the clenched jaws, the pale but steady eyes.
"For people who've already experienced the death of a classmate… they're holding up better than I expected."Seraphina stepped forward, her expression composed, though her eyes lingered on Kail's grave for a heartbeat longer than the others. Then she straightened.
"Everyone," she called out, her voice clear. "We should get going. The carriage to the academy is ready."
A few students flinched at the word academy—as if returning to routine felt wrong after standing before a fresh grave. But no one objected. One by one, they turned away from the mound of earth, their movements stiff, controlled.
As everyone began to move toward the carriage, footsteps approached from behind.
Princess Arlia.
She walked straight up to Raze, her chin lifted with that familiar mix of pride and irritation.
"Raze," she said, stopping only a step away from him. "Come. I have something to discuss with you."
A faint ripple of surprise passed through the students. A princess calling out to a commoner—especially him—was unusual enough that even the quiet ones blinked.
But after a second, they pretended not to notice and continued walking.
Seraphina paused near the carriage and glanced back.
"We'll wait," she said calmly. "So finish your talk quickly."
Raze didn't respond immediately. He only watched the princess for a moment, unreadable as ever, before stepping aside with her.
Raze didn't bother lowering his voice.
"You're acting like the princess very well, Seris."
"Well," Seris replied in Arlia's voice, "I was her maid. I spent more time with her than anyone. Copying her mannerisms isn't difficult."
Raze nodded once, his expression unreadable as ever.
"Thanks for handling the demon's body."
Seris shook her head lightly, the princess's long hair swaying.
"It was nothing. You did the hard part."
She hesitated for a second… then her eyes softened — not with emotion, but with acknowledgment.
"And… I should be the one thanking you," she said quietly.
"For helping me get revenge… and for giving me freedom."
Raze didn't react, didn't smile, didn't offer comfort.
He simply turned slightly, as if the conversation was just another task completed.
Raze looked at her—at the false princess—with that same unreadable calm.
"I did that for you," he said. "So you can do something for me. And you already know what that is."
Seris—wearing Arlia's face—lowered her head respectfully.
"I know," she replied. "I will make this Rhazak Kingdom the most powerful in the West."
Raze's eyes shifted briefly to the real Arlia in the distance—trapped in the maid's body, head lowered, pretending to wait obediently.
"And look at Princess Arlia," he said quietly. "She'll follow my orders. Because that's her last option."
Seris didn't argue. She didn't need to.
Raze turned away.
"Good. We're done here."
He walked toward the carriage where the others were waiting. Seraphina glanced at him but didn't ask anything. The group climbed in, the wheels creaking as the horses pulled them away from the castle grounds.
Days passed.
Forests, plains, villages blurred by through the carriage windows as they traveled toward the capital's famed Academy. The air slowly shifted—from the cold silence of the kingdom's outskirts to the growing noise and life of its heart.
And finally…
The towering white spires of the Academy appeared on the horizon.
They had arrived.
The Academy gates towered over them like a fortress wall—massive steel doors engraved with ancient patterns, glowing faintly with magic. They opened slowly, grinding against the stone as if welcoming them by force, not warmth.
The moment the group stepped inside, the atmosphere changed.
Cold. Heavy. Powerful.
Even Mia swallowed.
Seraphina's expression tightened.
Raze remained unreadable.
Servants guided them through long corridors lined with banners of past heroes, each painting radiating faint mana.
Finally, they reached an enormous wooden door.
Principal's Office.
A soft knock.
"Enter," a deep, old voice said.
They walked inside.
The room was spacious but simple—bookshelves stacked to the ceiling, maps of the kingdom, scrolls sealed with wax, and a faint smell of ink and old parchment.
Behind the desk sat an elderly man with long silver hair tied behind his back. His robe was worn, but the air around him felt heavier than anything they had sensed since arriving in this world.
His eyes opened slowly—sharp, ancient, cutting through them like blades.
This was a man who had seen war.
A man who had survived it.
The Principal.
He didn't smile.
Didn't greet them warmly.
He simply observed.
One look was enough to make Mia step back.
Even Seraphina's posture stiffened.
Raze felt the weight of the man's aura pressing down, testing him—measuring him.
"So…" the Principal finally spoke, his voice low but echoing through the room.
"You are the summoned class."
His gaze swept across them—and stopped on Raze for a fraction of a second longer than the others.
A silent recognition.
Or suspicion.
"Welcome to the Academy," he said.
But his tone made it sound less like a welcome…
…and more like a warning.
After a brief exchange about academy regulations, magical aptitude, and expectations, the Principal leaned back in his chair. His expression never softened—not even for a moment.
"Your journey must have been tiresome," he finally said.
"Rest for now. Formal evaluations will begin tomorrow."
A quiet knock echoed.
Two servants entered—both wearing the academy's black-and-gold uniform, their heads bowed.
The Principal gave them a single nod.
"They will escort you to your assigned rooms," he said.
"Follow them. And do not wander off—this Academy is far larger and more dangerous than it appears."
His eyes narrowed, the mana around him thickening for a heartbeat.
"There are things in these halls that do not tolerate… curiosity."
A chill ran through the group.
Mia clutched her bag a little tighter.
Seraphina's gaze flickered toward Raze, as if silently checking his reaction.
He remained still, unreadable.
Raze simply bowed his head slightly and turned away.
As the doors opened and the servants gestured for them, the class stepped out into the corridor again—one by one.
The hallway now felt different… heavier, as if the Principal's words had awakened something inside the walls.
"Please follow us," the servants said softly.
The group walked forward, their footsteps echoing in perfect rhythm.
:
Their real journey was only beginning.
As they followed the servants down the long hallway, lined with old portraits and glowing crystal sconces, hurried footsteps echoed from the corner.
A girl rushed toward them—almost tripping over her own shoes.
She wore round glasses, her hair tied in a messy bun, arms full of books that looked far heavier than she was.
Ink stains dotted her sleeves. A few pages stuck out between the covers.
When she reached them, she bent forward, panting.
"A-Are you—"
She adjusted her glasses quickly.
"Are you all the recently arrived heroes from the Rhazak Kingdom?"
The class exchanged glances.
Mia nodded carefully.
"Yes… we are."
The girl's eyes sparkled with excitement—far too much excitement.
The corridor felt normal—quiet, cold, echoing with distant footsteps.
Until the girl said something that froze every heartbeat in place.
Her eyes brightened behind her glasses, and she leaned forward innocently.
"Then… um… where is Kail Vesper?"
The name hit like a blade.
The entire group stiffened.
Mia's breath caught—her face going pale instantly.
Her fingers curled into her sleeve, trembling.
Even Seraphina's calm expression cracked.
Raze narrowed his eyes, watching the girl silently.
It wasn't the question itself.
It was how casually she asked it.
Like she was asking where someone went for lunch.
Like Kail hadn't been buried just hours ago.
The hallway suddenly felt colder.
Lira blinked at their reaction, confused.
"Eh? Did I… say something wrong?" she asked, genuinely clueless.
No one answered.
For me—even after everything I had already seen and done—
that question was still shocking.
Because no one outside our group should've known Kail's name.
Definitely not his full name.
Not this soon.
Not like this.
And yet… this girl said it as if she had known him for years.
The servants glanced back, sensing the tension.
Her voice trembled slightly.
"So… where is he?"