Finally, It's Time
The sun shone brightly over Lisa Vulkan, heir to the esteemed House Vulkan. Her family hailed from Igrath, the Fire Continent.
Igrath was a fire-forged continent of heat, ore, and pride—a land where industry and tradition burned in the same furnace. House Ignis, one of the members of the Senate of Nobles, still shaped the continent's cultural soul, even if its political influence had begun to fade.
Vulkan was once simply the name of a merchant who made his fortune not through inherited titles, but through blacksmithing.
In the early decades following the Era of Demise, as Igrath's ore veins reopened and the first true industrial foundries began to rise, a man named Vulkan bought broken tools, scrap metal, and failed weapons from exhausted war camps.
Where others saw waste, he saw material.
He refined it, reshaped it, and sold it back to the same armies and cities that had discarded it.
Within a single generation, the Vulkan name was no longer associated with scrap.
By the time the Senate of Nobles had solidified its authority over the continent, House Vulkan had become one of Igrath's most reliable arms suppliers—second only to the old blood of House Ignis in reputation. In some regions, they were even preferred for their practical quality over the ceremonial prestige of the older house.
Lisa Vulkan was born into that legacy.
Unlike most nobles, who spent their days learning etiquette and attending banquets, Lisa learned how to forge weapons. More importantly, she learned the difference between a weapon made for beauty and one made for battle.
But Lisa Vulkan was an idealist.
Ever since she had started crafting swords, her goal had been to forge a weapon that was as beautiful as it was powerful.
To accomplish that, however, she needed the right material, the right blueprint, and, most importantly, the right person to wield the sword.
So, she began studying politics in her spare time.
Why?
Because finding all of those things required people she could establish connections with. She also needed the negotiation skills necessary to make deals with them.
After all, people were selfish and self-centered.
That wasn't to say every living being was like that, but most of the people Lisa had worked with could be summed up in those words.
For example, as a representative of her family, she once traveled to negotiate a deal with a certain noble from Ventus, a city located in the northern region of Aethon, the Sky Continent.
They offered her a piece of Gentite, a metal renowned for its exceptional mana conductivity, in exchange for House Vulkan's blacksmiths producing katanas and sabers for the next twenty years.
Honestly, it might not have been the worst deal.
Gentite was one of the most valuable metals sought after on both continents. It was essentially the opposite of Anemite, a metal renowned for its resistance to mana.
But—
"I'm sorry. Your conditions are too absurd."
She refused.
If she accepted, House Vulkan would have to dedicate its production capacity to them for twenty years.
At first, it didn't sound like a bad deal. She would receive the Gentite, while they would receive a steady supply of weapons. A seemingly fair exchange.
But there was only so much she could do with a single chunk of Gentite.
Once it was gone, House Vulkan would have nothing left from the deal.
Ventus, on the other hand, would continue receiving their labor for the next two decades.
Lisa found it absurd that they would even consider proposing such a deal.
Nonetheless, she wanted that Gentite.
So she proposed another arrangement—one that would be far more beneficial to her family while still remaining fair to Ventus.
"You are asking House Vulkan to tie up its industrial foundries for twenty years for a foreign power. If the Senate of Nobles, especially House Ignis, catches wind that we are prioritizing Ventus over our own continental armies, it will be viewed as economic treason. If you want us to take that massive political risk, a single chunk of Gentite won't cut it. We demand a permanent trade concession: a dedicated mining vein in Aethon. Otherwise, the deal is dead, and I will take my workshop's capacity to your competitors in the neighboring sky-cities."
If anything, Lisa felt she was being too generous.
The nobles grunted and exchanged a few words among themselves before reluctantly agreeing.
This was only one of the many endeavors Lisa Vulkan had undertaken.
But for the sake of creating her swords, it was worth it.
Despite Anemite being one of the finest metals in existence, it wasn't perfect.
Then Lisa heard about a legendary Primordial-class ore.
It was so ancient that its name had been lost to time.
After conducting some research, she discovered that a professor at Selene Academy had connections to it.
Lisa had managed to avoid attending the academy for three years. She had never seen a reason to enroll.
But now...
Now she had one.
Thanks to a little... persuasion directed toward one of the members of the school board, she managed to strike a deal.
If she managed to come out on top in the entrance examination with a perfect score, she would be allowed to advance directly to the third year—the year she would have been in had she enrolled on time.
And that was why, beneath the bright sun of Selene, Lisa Vulkan now stood before the academy gates with a third-year crest already fastened to her blazer.
The rune-lit towers rose above her, their dense architecture carrying the weight of centuries of history and authority.
Students moved through the courtyard in streams. First-years were loud with nerves, while upperclassmen already seemed settled into their respective ranks and routines.
Somewhere beyond those halls was the Grand Archive.
Somewhere within the faculty wing was the professor connected to the ore whose name time had tried to erase.
Lisa adjusted her gloves, feeling the faint heat that always lingered beneath her skin whenever she was close to something worthy of a forge.
"Make my time worth it, Selene."
And with that, she entered the academy gates.
A third-year guide verified her crest, handed her a schedule slate, and pointed her toward the upper faculty wing.
"Professor Halvern's office is in the east research hall," the guide said. "He's rarely free before midday."
"I'll wait."
She had not come all this way just to be turned away because of a timetable.
Lisa crossed the courtyard at a steady pace, her eyes moving over the campus with the instincts of a craftsman.
Structure.
Load.
Material.
Weak points.
Even the academy's beauty had a purpose.
That, at least, she respected.
Near the central fountain, a cluster of first-years were talking far too loudly.
"Is he really that strong?"
"I heard he was only one point away from Nova."
"That's him, right? The one with the mask?"
Lisa heard the first-years talking about a particular first-year as though he were some kind of celebrity.
She didn't really care.
But fate had other plans.
As luck would have it, she saw him.
The person everyone was talking about.
Had she never seen him that day, her life might have turned out very differently.
She would have achieved her ultimate goal and been satisfied with that alone. She would never have found the ore she was searching for, but she would have gained countless other things.
That was the destiny the world had chosen for her.
But suddenly, fate went completely off course.
All because of a single unknown variable it had forgotten—or, rather, one that hadn't existed at the time.
A boy in a first-year uniform—a navy-blue blazer with the Selene crest attached to the left side and a structured hood fastened with a silver clasp, paired with snow-white pants and black boots—stood near the edge of the path.
A black mask covered his entire face.
His posture was calm enough to look almost bored.
He wasn't speaking to anyone.
He had long blonde hair tied into a high ponytail and was quite short for a boy, but he carried himself with an air of elegance.
He was balanced and efficient.
His posture was that of someone who knew how to properly wield a weapon, despite the fact that his body didn't appear particularly suited for combat.
But Lisa Vulkan had an eye for talent.
Maybe—just maybe—she had found the one who would wield her weapon.
She walked toward him, ignoring everyone else.
The only person beside him was a purple-haired maid, whose own elegance was difficult to overlook. But she wasn't Lisa's focus.
Lisa extended her hand and introduced herself as gracefully as possible.
"Greetings. I am Lisa Vulkan. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"
---
Upon arriving at the academy, I was told by one of the first-year instructors to wait near the fountain.
Apparently, I was part of a different class altogether.
My exam scores had placed me in Class S, which, as far as I knew, was the highest-ranked class among the first-years.
Since Akari was my maid—at least on paper—she was allowed to accompany me even during her own class time. I could also summon her whenever I wanted without getting her into any trouble.
The life of a noble was an easy one.
As I walked toward the fountain, I could feel the gazes of the students following me.
At first, I assumed it was because of the mask.
I wasn't wrong.
Some students were probably wondering if I had some sort of scar underneath it, while others probably assumed I was simply ugly.
Which kind of hurt.
I mean, I wasn't particularly handsome or anything, but I wouldn't say I was ugly either.
Then I started hearing them talk about my practical exam score.
They compared me to Nova Proteus.
I guessed the guy must have been pretty powerful if everyone was so shocked that I had come within one point of him.
Once I reached the fountain, the students began backing away from me.
I could still hear them whispering, and it made the whole situation rather awkward.
Before I knew it, my cheeks were beginning to burn with embarrassment.
That's when I thanked my lucky stars that I had chosen to wear a full-face mask instead of one that only covered half my face.
Suddenly, a beautiful girl approached me.
She had flowing, fiery-red hair and peach-colored skin that seemed to glisten beneath the scorching sun. Her eyes were golden, similar to mine, and a third-year crest was fastened to her blazer.
I was face-to-face with one of my seniors.
She was tall—maybe five feet five inches, if I had to guess.
Compared to my five-foot-three-inch height, that made the situation slightly awkward.
As I thought about my height, she extended her hand toward me and spoke.
"Greetings. I am Lisa Vulkan. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"
I responded by taking her hand.
"Noir Drake. It's a pleasure to meet such an esteemed noble as yourself."
I was still playing the whole proper-noble act, so I had to greet her as best as I could.
Although, as I looked at her more closely, I had a faint feeling that we'd met before.
But that feeling didn't last long.
As soon as I shook her hand, the instructor from earlier called out to me.
"Noir Drake!"
I turned toward him.
"Your class is ready. Follow me."
"Right."
I looked back at Lisa.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Vulkan."
"Likewise."
I gave her a small nod before following the instructor.
I didn't notice that Lisa continued watching me until I disappeared into the crowd.
---
As she watched him go, Lisa Vulkan was sure of it.
I've found my wielder.