The next morning began like the previous one—quiet, cold, and heavy with expectation. Leon woke before dawn, washed, dressed, and stepped into the courtyard ready to train. His muscles still carried the burn from yesterday's drills, but the ache felt familiar, almost welcome. Pain was just information. Improvement followed.
Luck pulsed faintly beneath his skin, a rhythm he no longer questioned.
But today, something in the air felt… different.
When he reached the yard, Damian was already there—sitting cross-legged and pale, sipping tea like an old man who had accepted his tragic fate.
"Morning," Damian croaked.
"You're early," Leon said.
Damian glared weakly. "I didn't sleep. I had nightmares of upper-years beating you like a practice dummy while I was forced to narrate the match."
Leon walked past him to stretch.
"Don't ignore my trauma," Damian groaned, dragging himself to his feet. "Also, I made breakfast."
Leon paused.
Damian held out a portable box. "It's bland. And ugly. But it won't kill you."
Leon accepted it without hesitation.
Damian blinked. "Wait—you're actually eating it?"
"Yes."
Damian clutched his chest dramatically. "My cooking has purpose…"
Leon sat on the training mat and opened the box. Plain boiled eggs, chopped bread, and lightly salted meat. Simple but fuel-dense. He ate quietly.
Damian hovered. "So? Is it—"
Leon nodded. "Good."
Damian's eyes sparkled. "I—I might cry."
Before Leon could respond, a soft voice echoed across the yard.
"There you are."
Both turned.
Selwyn Ridge approached, bow in hand, silver hair tied neatly behind her. She carried herself with the calm confidence of someone who had trained since childhood. Several students passing by stepped aside carefully—respectfully.
Damian whispered, "It's the arcane archer queen…"
Leon finished eating as Selwyn stopped in front of him.
"I came to check on you," she said. "There are rumors that Instructor Varron nearly killed you yesterday."
Damian raised a hand. "True. Spiritually, he did."
Leon shook his head. "I'm fine."
Selwyn studied him for a moment. "You look exhausted."
"That is normal," Leon replied.
His tone wasn't defensive. It was simply factual.
Selwyn exhaled. "The academy is preparing for the upper-year assessments. Some students are already discussing strategies specifically to counter you."
Damian gasped. "Already?! They see him as a threat! Oh no… this is the fast track to gaining enemies!"
Leon didn't react.
Selwyn added, "Just be cautious. Some upper-years are competitive. Some might… dislike your existence."
Damian waved his notebook. "I ALREADY HAVE A LIST OF HIS POTENTIAL ENEMIES—THIRTY-SEVEN NAMES!"
Leon stood up. "Training time."
Selwyn smiled faintly. "You're dedicated. Good. You'll need it."
She left as quietly as she arrived, her presence leaving behind a brief hush.
Leon gripped his daggers and started moving through his warm-up. His body remembered the pain from yesterday, but his movements flowed better—Luck's influence nudging subtle improvements.
Halfway through his forms, footsteps approached behind him.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps.
Leon turned.
Instructor Hale stood there—not frantic, not panicking. But serious.
"Leon," he said quietly, "you have a visitor."
Damian almost dropped his notebook. "A WHO?!"
Hale motioned toward the main hall. "Follow me."
Leon did.
Damian followed too—until Hale held up a hand. "Not you."
Damian froze. "Why?! What if the visitor is hostile?! What if they abduct Leon?! What if they want to court Leon to their noble house?! I should be there!"
"No," Hale said.
Damian wilted.
Leon stepped into the main hall.
A tall woman stood in the center, dressed in deep charcoal robes with subtle white embroidery. Her cloak bore the royal insignia—a silver flame around a crown.
A royal envoy.
Her aura was calm but sharp, like a blade wrapped in velvet. Her hair was raven-black, tied into a low braid. Her eyes—cold silver—locked onto Leon with piercing clarity the moment he entered.
Hale stepped forward. "Leon Gray. This is Lady Seraphine Arclight, an envoy from the Royal Council."
Leon nodded politely.
Seraphine's voice was smooth but carried authority. "Leon Gray. EX-rank awakener. The first recorded in Aldoria's history."
She examined him as if evaluating every breath.
Leon didn't flinch.
Seraphine continued, "Word of your awakening reached the capital before sunrise yesterday. I came to confirm it personally."
Hale stiffened. "Personally? That is unusual for—"
Seraphine raised a hand. "The Council is… interested."
Leon simply waited.
Seraphine observed him quietly for several seconds. "You are calm. Unexpectedly calm."
Leon said nothing.
She circled him slowly. "No arrogance. No fear. No visible instability. You are even… collected."
Hale interjected carefully, "Leon has shown remarkable emotional control since childhood."
Seraphine nodded slightly. "Good. That trait will determine whether you become an asset… or a danger."
Leon blinked. "Is there something you require?"
Seraphine reached into her cloak and withdrew a small crystalline sigil—white, shaped like a flame.
"This," she said, "is a Royal Observation Token. The Council uses it to track and study individuals of interest. You will carry it during training and major assessments."
Hale inhaled sharply. "You want to monitor him already?"
Seraphine's voice remained composed. "An EX rank awakener is too valuable—and too unpredictable—to leave unobserved."
"Observed by whom?" Hale asked softly.
"By the Council. And, when needed… by the King."
Hale went still.
That name had weight.
Immense weight.
Leon looked at the token. "If I refuse?"
Seraphine replied without a pause. "Then the Council will arrive themselves. And they will not be gentle."
Leon nodded once. Acceptance, not submission.
He took the token.
It pulsed faintly in his palm—recognizing him.
Seraphine watched closely. "I also have a message."
Leon waited.
"Grow," she said. "Fast. Because the Small World is not as small as you think."
Her tone made Hale freeze.
Leon tilted his head. "Meaning?"
Seraphine smiled faintly—not warm, not cruel, but knowing.
"You will understand when you reach level ninety."
Leon didn't react outwardly. But internally… he noted the information.
Seraphine turned to leave. "I will return in one week. Impress me."
She stepped out of the hall and vanished beyond the academy gate, moving with silent speed.
When the door closed, Hale rubbed his face. "Leon… this is bigger than we expected."
Leon looked at the token once more before slipping it into his inner pocket.
He could feel the slightest tug from it—like an eye watching from far away.
Hale sighed. "Finish your training. Things may become… complicated."
Leon returned to the courtyard.
Damian ran up instantly. "LEON! WHO WAS SHE?! WHAT DID SHE DO?! DID SHE CURSE YOU? DID SHE PROPOSE MARRIAGE?!"
Leon ignored him and resumed his stance.
Damian screamed, "WHY DO YOU NEVER TELL ME ANYTHING?!"
Leon's dagger sliced the air cleanly.
His training resumed.
But now—
Luck pulsed deeper.
The world felt heavier.
And the path ahead… steeper.
Something had begun.
Something dangerous.
Something that would not wait for him to grow slowly.