Morning light barely crept over the academy walls when Leon finished his meditation.
His breathing was steady.
His mind, sharper.
His mana, flowing more cleanly through his veins.
But something still lingered at the back of his thoughts—
The presence he sensed last night.
A watcher.
Hidden. Intentional.
Gone in an instant, but unmistakably real.
Leon stood, brushing dust from his hands.
Damian—who had fallen asleep sitting upright next to him—jerked awake with a gasp.
"H-HUH? I'M ALIVE?"
Leon started walking.
Damian scrambled after him. "Leon! Don't leave me! You look like you're going to do something dangerous again!"
Leon didn't deny it.
He headed toward the old archway where he had sensed the watcher. The morning fog curled around the structure like white smoke. Most students avoided this part of the academy—it was old, rarely used, and slightly warped by residual mana from ancient battles.
Leon's footsteps were silent on the stone.
Damian whispered, "Why are we here? I don't like abandoned areas. They always hide ghosts or upper-years. Both are scary."
Leon stepped through the archway.
A faint pressure brushed his senses—subtle, but present.
Someone had definitely been here.
Damian clutched Leon's sleeve. "Leon… did you find something?"
Leon crouched and examined a small imprint on the ground.
A footprint.
Light. Precise.
Almost too clean.
Not a student.
Leon stood, instinct sharpening—
Footsteps approached from behind.
Not hostile.
Not heavy.
Just tired.
Instructor Hale walked toward them, hair slightly messy, coat unbuttoned like he had skipped sleep.
"What are you doing here so early?" Hale asked.
Damian immediately pointed at Leon. "HE'S INVESTIGATING POTENTIAL MURDERERS!"
Hale blinked. "That's… specific."
Leon asked, "Has anyone been near this place recently?"
Hale rubbed his temples. "This area is restricted. Only instructors and high-ranking staff come here."
Damian gasped. "So the stalker is an instructor?!"
"No," Hale said instantly. "No instructor hides in bushes to spy on first-years."
Damian pointed at Leon. "He's not a normal first-year."
Hale sighed. "Fair point. But still no."
Leon stepped closer. "Who else can access this area?"
Hale hesitated for a moment.
Then he answered quietly, "Royal personnel. Council agents. Observers."
Damian screamed, "WE'RE BEING FOLLOWED BY NOBLES?!"
Hale flinched. "Damian, for once, please calm down."
Leon asked, "Why would a royal observer hide?"
Hale paused again.
Then his voice lowered. "Because they aren't supposed to be inside the academy."
Leon's eyes narrowed.
Hale continued, "The Royal Council has the authority to watch certain individuals… but they still have to request approval to enter academy grounds. If someone entered without permission…"
"They're ignoring protocol," Leon finished.
"And ignoring protocol means they're not here officially," Hale said.
Damian clung to Leon. "Leon! You're being stalked ILLEGALLY!"
Hale stepped closer, expression serious. "Leon. Listen to me carefully. If someone from the Royal side is watching you in secret, it's not because of your potential."
Leon waited.
"It's because they're afraid of what you might become."
The news spread through the academy faster than fire through dry grass.
Not the watcher.
Not the danger.
But the new announcement posted on every academy board:
UPPER-YEAR ASSESSMENT: FINALIZED MATCH ROSTER
Participants must attend today's briefing.
Damian stared at the notice, pale. "Leon… it's happening. It's real. We're doomed."
Leon read the details quietly.
The briefing would take place in the main hall at noon.
Mandatory.
All upper-years and special-category examinees required.
Leon's name was at the bottom again:
Special Evaluation — Leon Gray (Level 2)
Students whispered as he passed:
"He's the one."
"The EX-rank."
"Think he'll survive?"
"No way. Upper-years will tear him apart."
"Unless he tears them apart…"
Damian hid behind Leon like a squirrel behind a tree. "I hate attention. Attention attracts assassins."
Leon ignored the murmurs and walked into the main hall.
It was huge—seats filled with students, instructors lined along the walls, and a raised platform at the front.
Standing on that platform was someone Leon didn't expect.
Lady Seraphine Arclight.
The Royal Envoy.
Her silver eyes swept over the crowd, cold and calculating.
When she saw Leon, she paused.
Then gave the slightest nod.
Damian whispered, "DID SHE JUST ACKNOWLEDGE YOU?! THE ROYAL ENVOY NODDED AT YOU! LEON, YOU'RE GOING TO GET DRAGGED TO THE CAPITAL!"
Leon said nothing.
Seraphine raised a hand.
The hall fell silent.
"Students of Silverbrook," she began, voice smooth and commanding. "This assessment will determine your ability to progress to higher divisions. It is not a formality. It is not a practice match. It is a battlefield simulation."
Her gaze hardened. "You will face opponents stronger than you. Faster than you. More experienced."
Whispers filled the hall.
Seraphine continued, "The academy does not coddle weakness. You will either rise… or fall."
Damian muttered, "Can I choose 'don't rise but don't fall'? Is there a middle option?"
Leon kept listening.
Seraphine turned toward the instructors. "Current roster, please."
Varron stepped forward with a scroll.
Names filled the list.
Levels.
Match categories.
Then the final name—
Leon Gray.
Level 2.
Special Evaluation.
Seraphine's voice shifted slightly. "One participant in this year's assessment is… unique."
Every gaze in the hall turned to Leon.
Seraphine didn't look away from him. "Leon Gray. EX-rank profession. EX-rank talent."
The hall buzzed like a hive.
Seraphine continued, "Some of you see him as a threat. Some as an opportunity. Some as a target."
Her eyes narrowed.
"But hear this. Any student who attempts to sabotage, ambush, or gang up outside assessment rules will answer directly to me."
The hall froze.
Damian whispered, "Leon, I think you just got a royal bodyguard."
Leon didn't respond.
Seraphine lowered her hand. "That is all. Prepare yourselves."
Students began to disperse, some staring at Leon with envy, others with fear, others with hostility.
But someone else was watching.
Leon felt it again.
That same presence.
That same silent gaze.
This time from the balcony above.
He looked up—
But the balcony was empty.
Damian tugged his arm. "Leon… that watcher again?"
Leon nodded once.
Damian trembled. "B-But Seraphine said no one can ambush you! Shouldn't they be scared?"
Leon shook his head.
The watcher wasn't scared.
They weren't upper-year.
They weren't staff.
And they weren't royal.
Whoever they were—
They weren't part of this academy.
And they had no intention of stopping.
Leon's fingers curled slowly into fists.
The assessment was coming.
Upper-years were preparing.
The Royal Envoy was watching.
And now—
A hidden, unknown enemy was closing in.
Luck pulsed quietly in his chest.
He would be ready.