Morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
Arthur Frederick stood in front of a tall mirror, adjusting the academy uniform that felt… unnatural on him. Clean. Refined. Noble.
It didn't suit him.
I don't belong here.
The thought came and went just as quickly.
It didn't matter.
Belonging had never saved anyone.
The academy grounds were vast—far larger than anything he had seen in this life. Towering buildings of white stone stretched toward the sky, engraved with symbols that pulsed faintly with energy.
Students filled the courtyard.
Nobles.
You could tell just by looking at them.
The way they carried themselves.
The way they spoke.
The way they looked at others.
Especially him.
"…That's him."
"The commoner?"
"How did he even get in?"
Whispers spread like wildfire.
Arthur ignored them.
He had heard worse.
Much worse.
As he walked forward, the noise didn't stop—it grew.
Eyes followed him.
Judging. Measuring. Mocking.
One thing was clear.
He didn't need an introduction.
They already knew.
A group stood ahead, blocking his path.
Three of them.
Well-dressed. Confident.
Annoying.
The one in the center stepped forward, a faint smirk on his face.
"So you're the stray that got invited in."
Arthur stopped.
Silence settled between them.
"I heard you beat someone yesterday," the noble continued, tilting his head slightly. "Impressive… for a commoner."
Arthur said nothing.
The noble's smile widened.
"But let's make one thing clear."
A step closer.
"You don't belong here."
Arthur looked at him.
Not with anger.
Not with pride.
Just… calm.
"I know."
The answer caught them off guard.
Even the noble blinked slightly.
Arthur stepped forward.
They didn't move at first.
Then, instinctively…
They stepped aside.
No threats.
No fight.
No need.
Arthur walked past them like they didn't exist.
Pathetic.
Inside, the academy halls were even more imposing. Long corridors, polished floors, students moving in organized streams.
Order. Structure. Control.
It reminded him of something.
The System.
A faint flicker appeared in his vision again.
Gone before it fully formed.
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly.
Still watching…
"Arthur Frederick."
A voice called from behind.
Clear. Calm.
Different.
He turned.
A girl stood a few steps away.
Refined. Composed.
But her eyes…
They held recognition.
"You remember me, right?"
Memories clicked instantly.
The carriage.
The attack.
Her.
"…The Headmaster's daughter."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"Liana."
Arthur studied her for a moment.
She wasn't afraid of him.
That alone made her different.
"I wanted to thank you properly," she said. "For saving me."
Arthur looked away slightly.
"It wasn't a big deal."
A lie.
And they both knew it.
Liana's expression softened—but she didn't press further.
Instead, she stepped beside him.
"You should be careful."
Arthur glanced at her.
"This academy…" she continued quietly, "isn't kind to people like you."
A faint smile touched Arthur's lips.
Cold. Knowing.
"I'm not planning to be kind either."
For a brief moment…
Silence.
Then Liana laughed softly.
Not mocking.
Not forced.
Genuine.
"…Good."
Above them, beyond the sky, beyond sight…
Something shifted.
Watching.
Waiting.