Fiona stood outside Oliver's room, already in the academy uniform.
The bright red jacket and fitted black trousers wrapped along her figure neatly, making her look even more beautiful than usual.
On her shoulder, the Silver Moon Fox lay sprawled like a spoiled cat, eyes closed, tail dangling lazily.
On the floor beside Fiona, a new creature appeared.
She was about the size of a small dog.
Her body was shaped like a tiger, with strong limbs and a long tail, but her fur was soft pinkish white.
Her ears were rounder, more like a pig's, which made her look as if someone had mixed three animals together and then given up half way.
This was Lunara, the white tiger's daughter.
Lunara lifted her head and stared at Oliver.
Her pale golden eyes swept over him from head to toe.
Then she snorted loudly, as if the air in front of her was dirty, and padded past him into the room without stopping.
Oliver watched her walk by.
He felt a chill in his heart.
"…Why do I feel like she hates me," he muttered.
Lunara could not talk yet.
She was only about a week old, but her soul and mind already felt like that of a four year old human child.
She was curious about everything. She sniffed the bed.
She poked the table leg with her paw.
She tried to bite the chair once, decided it was tasteless, and moved on.
When she looked at Fiona, her eyes softened.
She rubbed her head against Fiona's leg and flicked her tail, clearly seeing Fiona as the closest thing to a mother.
When she looked at Oliver, she looked away.
Oliver held his chest.
"What did I even do wrong?" he said in a wounded tone. "I saved her, you know."
Fiona finally turned her eyes to him.
Her expression was calm, but suspicion leaked out.
"Did you do something to her," she asked slowly, "like what you did to my fox when you first met it?"
Oliver almost choked.
"That was an accident," he protested. "I was only checking its tail structure for research. Pure, noble, scientific curiosity."
The Silver Moon Fox opened one eye.
It stared at Oliver, then at Lunara, then let out a quiet "kyuu" that sounded very much like, "Do not believe him."
Lunara did not understand the words, but she understood the attitude.
She snorted again.
Oliver felt a knife slide into his heart.
"I did not do anything!" he said. "I did not poke her, I did not pull her fur, I did not even touch her whiskers!"
Fiona raised an eyebrow.
"Yet," she said.
Oliver raised a hand in a sincere oath.
"I swear," he said. "For now."
Fiona's gaze turned even more suspicious.
The fox covered its face with its tail. Ethan sighed.
After the cult incident, Fiona's attitude toward Oliver had changed.
She was still sharp with her tongue. She was still cold to most people.
When other students tried to talk to her in the hall, she answered with one word or not at all.
But with Oliver, the ice had thinned.
Their relationship had not returned to how it was before the tragedy, but the distance between them was no longer an unbreakable wall.
It was more like a thick wooden door that could maybe be opened if someone was willing to kick it enough times.
Fiona glanced at the clock on the wall and adjusted her sleeve.
"Orientation has been canceled," she said. "They are sending everyone straight to class. I heard this is because the headmaster is away from the academy."
"Away?" Oliver blinked. "Already? After all that, she still has time to travel?"
Fiona shook her head.
"I do not know the details," she said.
"I only heard she left through the teleportation array. Maybe she went to the capital to report to the council. Maybe something else happened."
Oliver remembered Ethan's earlier words in his mind.
'Is she in the capital,' he thought, 'or chasing what is left of that cult somewhere else?'
Inside the sandal, Ethan stayed quiet.
He also did not know. He only knew that people on that level would not move for small matters.
If they were moving, then whatever was brewing was not small.
Fiona picked up the Silver Moon Fox from her shoulder and placed it on the ground.
"I am going," she said. "Combat class starts sooner than your side."
Oliver nodded.
"You are in Combat Class A, right?" he asked.
Fiona replied with a small sound that counted as "yes."
Fiona turned, her long hair swaying behind her, and walked down the corridor with the fox and Lunara following at her feet. Lunara did not look back at Oliver even once.
Oliver watched their backs until they turned the corner.
He scratched his head.
"One day," he said in a low voice, "I will make something Lunara likes. Then we will see if she still ignores me."
"Good," Ethan said. "You should have such goals.
First learn to make other like you. Start with her, then the nobles, then the whole world.
When the whole world likes you, you can charge triple price and no one will dare complain."
"That sounds strangely evil," Oliver muttered.
He took a breath, straightened his uniform, and headed in the opposite direction.
Today was his first day in the Class.
He had been placed directly in Class X.
A new class created as every other class were full.
When he reached the classroom, the door was already open.
The room was not large, but it felt different from normal lecture halls.
Shelves lined the walls, holding metal ingots, crystal fragments, beast bone, tools, and half-finished artifacts.
There were only four other students inside.
Oliver stopped at the door and looked around.
The first person he saw was Liam.
Liam Liamson III sat at the second table, back straight, hair neatly combed.
He had replaced his plain brown clothes with the academy uniform.
Somehow, this made his name sound even more obvious.
"Liam… Liamson… III," Ethan repeated in a quiet voice. "I still cannot believe it. His parents must really really hate him."
Liam seemed calmer than before. He was flipping through a thick manual, lips moving as he read.
Next to him sat a girl in a tidy dark-blue skirt version of the uniform.
Her hair was cut short to her chin, straight and smooth. She had a gentle face and a polite smile.
When she noticed Oliver, she stood up slightly and nodded.
"Good morning," she said.
Her tone was soft.
Her eyes were not.
When her gaze passed over Oliver, he felt a thin chill slide along his back. It was not killing intent. It was something else.
Oliver's instincts as a trouble magnet lit up.
'Danger,' he thought. 'Smiling danger.'
He forced a smile back.
"Good morning," he replied. "I am Oliver Reed."
"The merchant boy," Ethan added helpfully in his mind, "who breaks crystals and ruins exams."
The girl's smile grew a little deeper, as if she had just confirmed something.
"My name is Celia Cross," she said. "I look forward to studying together."
"Same," Oliver said.
He did not know why, but he imagined her holding a scalpel and a wrench at the same time. He quickly looked away.
On the other side of the room sat another girl.
This one wore the same uniform, but it looked slightly messy on her.
Her white shirt was half untucked. Her tie hung loose.
Her long black hair was tied into a low ponytail that looked like it had been made while she was half asleep.
She slouched in her chair, chin resting on one hand, eyes half closed.
A toolbox lay open on the table in front of her, packed with tools.
She did not look at Oliver at first.
Only when he stepped further into the room did one of her eyes slowly open.
She studied him from his shoes to his head, the way a seasoned aunt would look at a chicken in the market.
Then she yawned.
"So you're the famous troublemaker and now the crystal breaker," she said lazily. "shorter than I expected."
Oliver nearly tripped.
Inside the sandal, Ethan burst out laughing.
"Who told the whole academy already," Oliver whispered with a stiff face.
The girl waved her hand.
"Relax," she said. "I am not your enemy. The name is Ria Stone.
My family runs a workshop in the city.
If you blow up a classroom, I might get extra repair contracts. So work hard."
She smiled, bright and careless.
Oliver could not tell if she was joking or serious.
Oliver chose a seat near the middle.
As he sat down, he felt eyes on him from three directions.
Liam glanced up, then looked away quickly, as if comparing himself.
Celia's smile stayed gentle, but her fingers tapped the table slowly, as if taking notes in her mind.
Ria yawned again and dug a finger in her ear, then pointed a wrench at him.
"…I will try not to explode anything," Oliver replied.
"You're jinxing yourself," Ethan said in his head. "I bet you will make something explode in three days."
Oliver ignored her. He rested his hands on the desk and took a slow breath.
Then the door of the classroom opened wider as footsteps approached from the corridor.
The instructor was about to enter.