A woman walked through the academy corridor.
Her uniform fit her perfectly. Long purple hair swayed softly with each step, framing a beautiful face that effortlessly drew attention. Male students followed her with their eyes wherever she went—without shame, without restraint.
In this academy, almost everyone called her Princess.
My name is Elvaria Lysenne.
I am someone who was reincarnated from Earth—
my former name was **Hoshino Airi**.
Someone who… may know a little more about this world's future than she should.
"Tsk… men," I muttered irritably.
"The moment they see a pretty girl, they forget how to walk."
I continued forward—
until my steps came to an abrupt halt.
Someone had just passed by me.
Without a glance.
Without slowing down.
Without even the slightest hint of interest.
I turned around instinctively.
It was him.
Veyron Aldrecht.
A name that had been circulating lately—not because of popularity, but because of *strangeness*.
They said he was the one who realized that the attack on the academy hadn't been carried out by real humans.
Puppets.
That was the rumor.
"…But how?" I wondered, my brows knitting together.
"There were no official reports. No explanations. No witnesses who truly knew."
And yet he—
walked as usual.
Calm.
As if nothing had ever happened.
I watched his back until his figure disappeared at the end of the corridor.
"…Strange," I murmured.
"How could someone like that know so much, so early…?"
There was no answer.
The bell rang in the distance—signaling the start of class.
I exhaled softly and continued toward my classroom.
But one thing was certain:
The name Veyron Aldrecht
had just entered the list of people I wanted—
and *needed*—to understand.
---
Class A
Elvaria opened the classroom door and stepped inside.
The lively atmosphere greeted her immediately—the sound of chairs scraping, books opening, and whispered conversations that quickly died down as she passed.
She took her seat, yet her thoughts remained in the corridor.
*Veyron Aldrecht…*
The name surfaced again without reason.
Her gaze shifted toward the window.
Veyron was seated there, calmly reading a book. Too calm. As if the noise around him belonged to an entirely different world.
As Elvaria continued staring, Veyron finally noticed. He turned toward her, his expression flat—no smile.
"…Is there something you need?" he asked, his tone calm, faintly puzzled.
"You've been staring at me."
Elvaria flinched for a moment, then leaned closer. The distance between them shrank. Her violet eyes locked onto his.
"Veyron Aldrecht," she said quietly. "I want to ask you something."
Veyron remained silent.
"Why did you know that the enemies were only puppets?" she continued.
"Every instructor and student was deceived. But not you. That makes me curious."
Veyron didn't answer right away.
He stood, walked to the front of the classroom, and stopped before the blackboard. Picking up a piece of chalk, he drew slowly.
"If you're looking at a chessboard," he said calmly,
"don't look at the pieces."
Elvaria frowned.
"Look at the intent."
The chalk slid across the board, forming faint squares.
"Living pieces always move toward the future.
They close off dead ends.
Avoid dead squares.
And—by instinct—protect the king."
He paused.
"Puppets don't do that."
Elvaria's breath caught.
"They advance on schedule," Veyron continued, "yet they're always half a step late.
They attack, but never defend.
And most importantly—"
He looked straight ahead. The entire class fell silent.
"None of them cared if the position collapsed."
The room was swallowed by stillness.
"On the chessboard of this world," he said quietly,
"that's not strategy."
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"It means there is no player behind the pieces."
He placed the chalk down.
"Mistakes like that," he added casually,
"don't survive more than ten moves…
on any board I've studied."
Elvaria—and the rest of the class—held their breath.
The rumors were not exaggerated.
Veyron returned to his seat. This time, every pair of eyes followed him—as if they were watching something that shouldn't exist at their level.
Before sitting down, he glanced at Elvaria.
"Are you satisfied with that explanation, Elvaria Lysenne?"
Elvaria quickly looked away and returned to her seat. Her expression was conflicted—fear, respect, and unease intertwined.
Impossible…
How can he understand strategy that deeply?
The only one who should know that much is Senior Vaelcrest…
Unless—
Her thoughts were cut short.
The classroom door opened. An instructor entered with a stern expression.
All students stood at once.
"Good morning, Instructor!"
"Good," the instructor replied curtly. "Sit. We'll begin."
The class proceeded without incident.
Pens moved.
The board filled.
And time passed in silence.
---
One Hour Later
The bell rang.
Veyron stood immediately and headed toward the exit for break. Lyra and Taeryun were already waiting.
But his steps slowed.
He could feel it—the gaze that never left him.
Since class had begun, even when he remained still, Elvaria hadn't stopped watching.
Not an ordinary stare.
The look of someone assembling pieces of a puzzle.
"Come on, Veyron," Lyra said cheerfully. "Let's hit the cafeteria. After that, we've got training grounds—there's still another lesson."
Veyron nodded quietly.
Without further words, the three of them—Lyra, Taeryun, and Veyron—left the classroom toward the cafeteria. Along the corridor, Lyra and Taeryun exchanged stories about their classes, comparing instructors, training methods, and endless assignments.
Veyron simply listened.
His steps were steady. His expression unreadable.
As if he neither noticed—nor cared about—the pair of eyes still following him from afar.
---
Cafeteria
After collecting their meals, Veyron, Lyra, and Taeryun searched for a place to sit.
Veyron's gaze settled on an empty table near the back window.
"Let's sit there," he said briefly. "Lyra. Taeryun."
Lyra and Taeryun's faces brightened. The spot was quiet, peaceful, far from the crowd.
They set down their trays and ate casually. The conversation drifted to trivial topics—lessons, annoying instructors, and cafeteria food that tasted decent when you were hungry.
Taeryun suddenly glanced at Veyron.
"Veyron… have you made any friends in class?" he asked curiously.
Veyron shook his head slightly, continuing to eat.
"No," he replied flatly. "Since that incident, they've been avoiding me. They think I'm strange for knowing the enemies were puppets."
Lyra froze mid-bite. She swallowed quickly and looked at him, worry in her eyes.
"Why don't you have any friends?" she asked. "Aren't you lonely sitting alone in class?"
Veyron paused.
He stood, lifted his tray, and turned toward her.
"I don't know," he said simply. "I don't really care."
He walked away, adding, "I'll head to the training grounds first."
Lyra and Taeryun exchanged glances before standing up in a hurry.
"Wait for us, Veyron!" they called out together.
The three headed toward the training grounds.
Lyra and Taeryun looked cheerful.
Veyron—
remained unchanged.
Calm. Closed off. And without a smile.
---
Training Grounds of the Imperium Aethelgard Academy
Veyron, Lyra, and Taeryun arrived at the training grounds.
Their eyes were immediately met by two instructors and rows of first-year students already lined up. The place buzzed with activity.
"Wow… it's crowded," Lyra muttered.
Veyron didn't respond. He continued to the very back of the formation, his expression as flat as ever.
The instructor leading the training stood at the center. His muscular build radiated authority.
"Is everyone present?!" he shouted.
"Yes, Instructor!" the students answered in unison.
"Good. We'll begin," he said.
"But first, we'll be testing your Mana Control and Mana Capacity."
The field fell silent.
The instructor scanned the students sharply.
"Who will go first?"
No one moved.
After a few seconds, a student raised his hand—not to volunteer, but to ask.
"Instructor!" he shouted.
"Aren't sword users supposed to fight without mana? We only need physical strength and instinct, right?"
Several students nodded in agreement.
Taeryun leaned toward Veyron and whispered.
"Veyron… do we really have mana in our bodies?"
"I thought mana was only for mages."
Veyron chuckled softly.
"Hahaha… Taeryun," he said casually.
"Everyone has mana. The difference is whether they're aware of it."
He glanced at Taeryun.
"If you don't believe me… just watch."
Without waiting, Veyron stepped forward.
The instructor smiled faintly.
"Very well. Veyron Aldrecht will go first."
Some students laughed quietly.
The name was known—but not everyone believed the hype.
Lyra and Taeryun remained silent. They knew this wasn't a joke.
Veyron stepped into the measurement formation.
As he entered, a translucent window appeared briefly before his eyes—visible only to him.
[Activating Mana Control and Mana Capacity Measurement.]
BOOM—!
A pillar of blue light shot into the sky.
Mana pressure exploded outward, shaking the air. Several students staggered back, their faces pale.
The two instructors stared in disbelief.
"This level of mana control…?"
"And that capacity—it's impossible!"
But the real problem had just begun.
When Veyron opened his eyes, the mana around him stopped flowing—
It moved.
Responding to his will.
The ground beneath the formation trembled. Hairline cracks spread.
"Why is the formation breaking?!"
"Instructor, this is dangerous!"
Panic spread.
Veyron frowned. He tried to suppress it—but failed.
Damn it.
I've never used this at full output… so this is what happens.
He took a deep breath.
"…Fine," he murmured.
"Then let's see which of us is more stubborn."
His gaze lifted toward the pillar.
A flicker flashed in his eyes—blue, then turning golden-yellow.
Mana pressure surged. Wind howled, nearly knocking students off their feet.
In the distance, the Headmaster frowned inside his office.
"What… is that?"
Before the training grounds could collapse—
Lightning split the sky.
CRACK!
A thunderous dragon descended.
"Zephyron?!" one instructor shouted.
Zephyron landed before Veyron, lightning coursing across his body.
"Calm yourself, Veyron," he said heavily.
"Do not let mana control you."
He lowered his head slightly.
"You're struggling… so I'll help this once. But remember—you owe me."
Light enveloped both of them.
The pillar shrank. The wind faded. The cracks stopped spreading.
But Veyron's body could endure no more.
He collapsed.
Unconscious.
Zephyron caught him before he hit the ground, staring at his pale face, faint sparks of lightning still clinging to his skin.
"…Annoying," he muttered.
"What exactly are you?"
He snorted.
"A god? A pawn?"
"Or someone who once moved a board far larger than this?"
Without answering himself, Zephyron carried Veyron away.
The training grounds fell silent.
Students and instructors stood frozen—
not merely in awe of power,
but in fear they had never felt before.
---
Veyron's Room
Darkness.
Then—faint light.
Veyron opened his eyes.
The ceiling came into view—blurred, unfocused. His body felt heavy, as if it no longer fully belonged to him. He tried to move—but none of his commands reached his limbs.
His breathing was steady.
His consciousness intact.
But his body… remained still.
Veyron closed his eyes once more.
And for the first time that day—
He chose not to resist.