This chapter is not about what Veyron does.
It is about what he refuses.
---
In Veyron's room.
Veyron slept deeply. The incident in the Power Measurement Chamber had rendered him unconscious, and the instructors had carried him to his room without him ever realizing it.
His eyelids slowly opened.
The ceiling of the room and a large hanging lamp filled his vision. Sunlight streamed through the window, making him instinctively sit up on the bed.
"Why am I suddenly in my room?" he muttered, his voice still heavy with lingering drowsiness.
Before his awareness fully returned, the door swung open.
Lyra and Taeryun entered, carrying breakfast.
"Oh, you're finally awake, Veyron," Taeryun said with a smile.
Taeryun had just set the food down when—
without warning, Lyra wrapped her arms tightly around Veyron.
Veyron froze, startled. His body stiffened on reflex.
"Damn it, Veyron!" Lyra snapped, her voice trembling.
"You promised you'd never collapse again after entering the Academy. And yet you still made us worry… You have to take responsibility for that."
Her grip tightened. Tears soaked into Veyron's shoulder.
The memory surged back.
Ten days ago—
in the forest, before they entered the Capital.
Veyron had promised Lyra and Taeryun that he would never collapse again after enrolling in the Academy.
And now, he had broken that promise.
---
Ten days earlier.
The memory returned uninvited.
A silent forest. Morning light. Their voices.
"We don't need you to be strong, Veyron."
"We just want you to stay standing."
---
Back to the present.
The weight of that promise struck Veyron head-on. Without thinking, he returned Lyra's embrace—warm, sincere, awkward. Lyra's face instantly flushed red.
"I'm sorry, Lyra," Veyron said softly.
"I broke our promise. The one we made in the forest."
Suddenly, Lyra shoved him backward onto the bed. Without a word, she turned and ran out of the room, leaving two men behind in silence.
Veyron stared at the closed door, confusion written across his face.
"Taeryun… what was that?" he asked.
"She hugged me, then pushed me away and ran off."
Taeryun approached the bed, chuckled quietly, and sat down beside him.
"No idea," he said with a shrug.
"But what I'm more curious about is why you suddenly collapsed in the formation room. Right before that happened, there was a yellow light approaching your body."
Those words stirred something inside Veyron.
"I remember it, Taeryun!" he said.
"Before I lost consciousness, I saw an incredibly bright light."
Taeryun stared straight into Veyron's eyes.
There was no deception there.
No forced panic.
Only a strange calm.
That was what unsettled him.
Why is he always this calm?
During the tournament—no panic.
Even now, after witnessing a mysterious light—still calm.
Taeryun swallowed his questions. He chose to listen as Veyron explained what he experienced inside the formation. Without realizing it, time passed.
---
About ten minutes later.
Taeryun remained silent for a long moment before finally speaking, his tone heavier than usual.
"Veyron… have you ever thought about this," he said quietly,
"What would happen to this place if one day you were truly gone?"
Veyron didn't answer right away.
Taeryun continued, his voice barely above a whisper.
"There are too many enemies. Too many points of collapse. I try to hold things together, but… alone, it always ends the same way."
Silence.
Then Veyron turned to him, his expression calm—too calm for such a question.
"I didn't come here to change anything," he finally said.
"If this world looks like it has changed before… maybe it's because I forgot."
Taeryun froze.
Not because the answer was clear—
but because it wasn't.
He didn't pursue the question.
Outside the window, the sky above the Academy remained peaceful, as if the world had never stood on the brink of collapse.
Veyron closed his eyes briefly.
He didn't see himself as a savior.
He never considered himself a pawn.
Not a god.
Not a piece.
But the trace of a hand that had once touched the chessboard.
Taeryun stood and stretched, then glanced at Veyron with a faint smile.
"Well then, I'll head out."
He walked toward the door, his expression slightly downcast. Veyron watched his back disappear, Taeryun's words echoing endlessly in his mind.
Veyron exhaled slowly and let himself fall back onto the bed.
And then—
BOOM!
A violent explosion shook the Academy.
The tremor reached his room. Screams echoed in the distance. Near the main gate, several students were thrown aside—some badly injured, others… unmoving.
Veyron sprang up and ran to the window.
The gate of the **Imperium Aethelgard Academy** lay in ruins.
Blood. Debris. Bodies scattered below.
Yet Veyron's expression remained calm.
Too calm.
What happened…?
An intruder?
But when?
His mind raced, piecing the fragments together.
Then—
that moment.
His thoughts drifted back to when he had been carried to his room—when Senior Vaelcrest and the Headmaster spoke in hushed tones, away from watchful eyes.
One conclusion formed.
The intruder entered…
when the Academy's attention was divided.
---
About ten minutes earlier.
Instructors rushed through the grounds, carrying the unconscious Veyron. Lyra and Taeryun followed behind, panic written on their faces.
In the Academy garden, only two people remained—
the Headmaster and Aurelian Vaelcrest.
"How could a student collapse inside a formation chamber?" the Headmaster asked, disbelief in his voice.
Vaelcrest's lips trembled. He hesitated before speaking.
"It wasn't a flaw in the formation, Headmaster," he said quietly.
"Something breached the chamber's defenses."
He inhaled slowly.
"We need to inspect the entire perimeter. I fear there's an intruder. If so… their target will be the Academy gate. It's the most efficient point for an attack."
The Headmaster was about to issue orders—
When—
BOOM!
---
Back to the present.
The explosion tore through the air. The Headmaster and Vaelcrest turned instantly, their expressions hardening.
Vaelcrest ran toward Veyron, Lyra, and Taeryun, his face pale, voice tense.
"Don't stand there! Follow me—now!"
Lyra and Taeryun moved without hesitation.
Veyron did not.
His gaze locked onto something in the distance.
Lyra noticed and stopped, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Veyron?" she asked anxiously.
"Why did you stop? Come on!"
Veyron turned and looked straight at her.
"I'm not coming with you," he said calmly.
"I'll find the safest hiding place."
He took a short breath.
"Lyra, you should go with Vaelcrest and Taeryun. I'm sorry… I can't stay with you right now."
Without waiting for a response, Veyron ran toward the forest at the edge of the Academy.
Lyra's heart screamed for her to chase him—
but this was his request.
Reluctantly, she turned and ran with Taeryun and Vaelcrest.
---
In the Academy Forest.
As soon as he entered the woods, Veyron leapt high, landing atop a towering branch. From there, he saw the enemy clearly.
Too clearly.
His face showed no tension—only deep irritation.
"Why does it always have to be that organization…" he muttered.
"Am I really on their radar now?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"But… why haven't they moved?"
Curiosity surged. Veyron sat casually on the branch, pulled out a coin, and tossed it into the air.
It spun, glinting briefly before falling back into his palm.
"Let's see," he said softly.
"How far your plan actually goes."
---
In the underground shelter of Imperium Aethelgard Academy.
Students and teachers sat crowded together, their faces pale with fear after the sudden attack. No sound filled the space except restrained breathing and nervous whispers.
An instructor stood at the front, struggling to contain the spreading panic.
"All students, please remain calm. Do not panic," he said firmly, though his voice trembled slightly.
"When the Headmaster makes an announcement, it means the situation is under control."
The unease did not fade.
The Headmaster looked over his students one by one. His gaze was heavy—not with doubt, but with knowledge that the threat was not yet over. He stepped forward.
"My students," he said calmly.
"Remain steady. We will stop this attack. I and your most reliable senior—Aurelian Vaelcrest—will go above to assess the situation."
He met their eyes.
"For now, stay here. Do not move until further orders."
The words brought a sliver of hope.
Yet the underground chamber remained silent—
not a comforting silence,
but one far more terrifying.
---
Deep within the forest.
Veyron still sat calmly on the high branch, watching the unmoving enemies. A satisfied smile curved his lips—the smile of someone who had already read the board to its end.
"So… this is the limit of your plan," he murmured.
"Clever. Stir panic with puppets dressed as enemies."
He chuckled softly.
"Hahaha… time to move, Zephyron."
"Ready," replied a deep, resonant voice.
"My friend, Veyron."
In an instant, they split.
Zephyron transformed into his lightning dragon form, scales gleaming with crackling electricity, taking control of the skies and the right flank. Meanwhile, Veyron dashed toward the Academy—because he knew where the real enemy was.
---
At Imperium Aethelgard Academy.
Veyron arrived to find devastation everywhere. Cracked structures. Split ground. Smoke still rising.
As he stepped inside—
CRACK!
A strike came at blinding speed.
Veyron blocked it just in time. Metal rang sharply. Instead of anger, his face lit up with delight.
"Hey, hey," he said mockingly.
"Don't be like that. I just got here."
The mysterious figure unleashed a flurry of sword strikes. Each was deflected, leaving deep gashes in the surrounding walls.
With a light motion, Veyron leapt onto the rooftop.
His eyes narrowed.
He spotted an Assassin moving through the grounds.
His arm extended.
"Lightning Magic: Thunder Spear!"
BOOM!
Lightning slammed into the Academy floor.
The Assassin was blasted away, smashing into a stone pillar before vanishing into smoke. Electricity lingered in the air, the sharp scent of ozone burning the senses.
Veyron landed silently.
His eyes scanned the area.
"Puppets… again," he muttered.
Uniformed figures moved stiffly, their reactions delayed by half a beat—enough for a trained eye to know they weren't fully human.
"This organization," he whispered,
"always uses the same tricks."
The wind shifted.
Veyron stopped.
His brow furrowed.
No… something's off.
The Academy's defensive structure was still intact. Mana routes were active. Even the reserve formations hadn't collapsed.
This attack was too loud for such little result.
"Impossible…"
Veyron narrowed his eyes.
"Alden wouldn't—"
The sentence cut off.
He froze.
As if only realizing what had just left his mouth.
Several figures in the distance—teachers, instructors, even a senior student hiding among the ruins—stiffened.
That name.
They heard it.
Veyron exhaled softly, his face returning to neutrality.
"…Tsk."
He turned his gaze toward the main tower.
"If this is just a diversion," he said calmly,
"then the real attack isn't at the gate."
Small arcs of lightning danced at his fingertips.
"Zephyron," he said lightly, as if suggesting a casual stroll.
"We split up."
The thunder dragon's voice rumbled from the sky.
"I've sealed the airspace. One mana source is moving downward."
"The underground," Veyron replied without hesitation.
"Specifically… toward the Headmaster's office."
A faint smile touched his lips—
a smile that did not belong on the face of a student.
"As always," he murmured.
"They choose the fastest route… and the stupidest one."
Lightning struck.
In an instant, Veyron vanished—leaving scorched ground behind and one bitter truth for the enemy:
This attack
was not against students.
They had just
touched a chessboard
once touched by someone else.
---
In the deepest underground chamber of Imperium Aethelgard Academy.
Lightning struck again.
CRACK—!!
Veyron tore through the underground corridors, his body moving like a shadow dragged by lightning. The stone walls trembled as he stopped abruptly at a junction.
Ahead—
A reversed magic formation.
"So… this is the core," Veyron said flatly.
It wasn't designed to attack.
Nor to destroy.
It was meant to seal something.
Black-robed figures stood in a circle, hands pressed to the floor, chanting in perfect synchronization. At the center, a crystal core pulsed faintly.
"The target has entered," one of them said.
"Don't panic. He's just a student."
Veyron heard that—
and laughed softly.
"Relax," he said, stepping forward.
"I was hoping so too."
One mage turned—and his eyes widened.
"That mana… impossible—!"
Too late.
Veyron raised his hand.
No incantation.
No spell chant.
Just one word.
"Stop."
The air froze.
The formation cracked, lines shattering like aged glass. The mages staggered, blood streaming from their noses and ears.
"What… did you do—?!"
Veyron stared at the crystal core, disgust crossing his face.
"Seriously?" he muttered.
"For a plan this big… you used a mid-grade core?"
He sighed.
"No wonder the Academy's still standing."
His hand pressed downward.
BOOOM—!!
The core imploded silently. The formation collapsed completely. One by one, the mages were thrown aside, unconscious.
Silence returned.
Veyron stood alone in the ruined corridor.
He closed his eyes briefly.
"…If Alden were guarding this place," he murmured,
"your attack wouldn't have even begun."
He opened his eyes.
And froze again.
That name… again.
Veyron frowned, as if unable to understand why such certainty came so naturally.
"Strange," he said quietly.
"Why am I so sure of that?"
In the distance, the Academy's emergency sirens fell silent, one by one.
The battle was over.
Yet—
beneath the rubble,
beneath the name spoken without thought,
beneath a calm far too experienced for a student—
something remained sealed.
Not power.
Not memory.
But a role
he had once played.