Orin smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting as he crossed his arms over his chest. There was a glint in his eyes—a dangerous sort of amusement that usually meant trouble had already happened.
"We didn't just face them," he said casually. "We hunted a lot of them."
Alaric had been reaching for a document on his desk, but his hand froze midway.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
"What?"
The single word landed flat.
Orin stepped forward without answering immediately. His fingers brushed over his storage ring.
A pulse of light shimmered into existence.
The room darkened for a heartbeat as the glow overtook it.
A crystal orb floated upward into the air.
Inside it, two golden cores pulsed softly, rhythmic and alive, like twin hearts beating in perfect synchronisation. Thin wisps of golden flame coiled around them, drifting lazily within the crystal shell like strands of liquid sunlight.
Warm light spilt across the room, washing over bookshelves and wooden walls.
Orin's expression lost some of its usual playfulness.
"Ronan told me to give this to you before showing or selling it to anyone." His voice lowered. "Oliver thinks it's a Primordial Flame Core."
He paused.
"And Ronan insisted..." his gaze shifted briefly toward Alaric, "...that nobody can know it came from us."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then—
Alaric shot to his feet so violently that the chair behind him screeched across the floor.
"YOU WHAT?!"
His voice thundered through the room.
The crystal orb trembled slightly in the air.
"You ventured into the Cinderspire Nest?!" His eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you all completely insane?!"
He jabbed a finger toward Orin.
"I swear, every single one of you reckless brats is going to be punished accordingly!"
His chest rose sharply as he looked back at the cores.
"And do you even understand what these are?!"
His voice lowered.
That somehow felt more dangerous.
"Do you have any idea how rare these cores are...?"
Orin didn't retreat.
Normally, he would've cracked a joke.
Normally.
But Alaric's expression wasn't one he wanted to test.
Still, he straightened his shoulders.
"We worked hard for this."
Alaric stared at him.
Then pressed two fingers against his forehead.
The beginnings of a headache were already announcing themselves.
Of course.
Of course, Ronan was involved.
Why had he even expected otherwise?
"We're going." He exhaled heavily. "Right now."
His eyes narrowed.
"We need to talk to that reckless brat."
Ronan knocked gently on the polished wooden door of Alden's office.
"Come in."
Alden's calm voice drifted from inside.
Ronan pushed the door open and stepped in.
The scent of parchment and ink greeted him immediately.
Stacks of documents covered the desk in organised chaos while Alden and Gideon sat opposite each other, focused on a pile of reports.
Both men looked up.
"Good morning, sir."
Alden nodded once.
"Good morning."
His eyes briefly swept over Ronan.
"And congratulations on advancing."
Gideon smiled faintly.
Ronan rubbed the back of his neck.
"Thank you, sir."
The words sat awkwardly in his mouth.
"I... have something important to report."
Alden and Gideon exchanged a glance.
Something in his tone had immediately caught their attention.
"Go on."
Ronan took a slow breath.
Then he began.
He explained everything.
The hunting trip.
Their decision to enter the Cinderspire Nest.
The monsters they fought.
The strange encounters.
The cores they recovered.
How did they divide them?
Even the one already placed for auction.
As the story continued, Gideon's brows slowly rose.
Alden's fingers stopped tapping against the desk.
By the end—
Silence settled over the room like a heavy blanket.
Gideon folded his arms.
"Well..." he said slowly, "...aside from your questionable understanding of survival instincts..."
Ronan looked away.
"...venturing into the Cinderspire Nest is punishable."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Every single one of you will face disciplinary action."
Ronan coughed awkwardly.
Alden stood.
"But for now, let's go."
He grabbed his coat from the chair.
"I need to head toward Hunter's Boutique anyway."
Ronan blinked.
"Oh."
Then nodded.
"No classes today anyway. Tournament's tomorrow."
He shrugged.
"I needed to visit the market."
As they exited the academy gates, morning sunlight spilt across the stone pathways.
Students moved through the grounds in scattered groups, laughter and conversation drifting through the air.
Ahead, Orin and Alaric approached.
Alden raised a hand.
"Got time?"
Alaric glanced toward him before nodding.
"Where are you heading?"
"Hunter's Boutique."
Alden's expression turned strange.
"We can talk on the way."
As they walked, Alden explained everything Ronan had reported.
Step by step.
Word by word.
Alaric's expression gradually darkened.
Then finally—
He let out a long breath through his nose.
"So what Orin said..."
His eyes shifted toward the boy beside him.
"...was true."
Orin suddenly found the sky very interesting.
Thirty minutes later, they reached Hunter's Boutique.
The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered.
The scent of herbs, potion ingredients, and polished wood filled the air.
Elira greeted them immediately.
She bowed respectfully before walking toward Ronan.
"Here's the money from yesterday's sale."
She handed over a storage ring.
"The costs of the potions and herbs have already been deducted."
Ronan accepted it with a smile.
"Thank you."
Then he turned.
"If you're free, come with me."
Orin blinked.
"Me?"
Ronan nodded.
Then looked back at the instructors.
"Sir, once I'm done, I'll return to the academy."
He grinned.
"If I don't, Samantha's going to murder me."
Alden smirked.
"Aren't you going to meet Master Garrick Vale?"
Ronan shrugged.
"You're handling the transaction anyway."
Then he scratched his cheek.
"And I'd rather not waste his time."
As Ronan and Orin disappeared outside—
A voice suddenly called from above.
"Where is Ronan?"
Garrick Vale descended the staircase.
Alden looked up.
"He left."
Then a grin spread slowly across his face.
"Said he didn't want to waste your precious time."
Garrick froze.
"..."
"What happened yesterday exactly?"
A faint redness spread across Garrick's face.
"...Come upstairs."
Moments later—
Laughter exploded from the upper floor.
Gideon leaned against the table, shaking with amusement.
"Now it all makes sense!"
He wiped tears from the corner of his eyes.
"You judged the boy before seeing his work?!"
Another burst of laughter escaped him.
"No wonder he got angry!"
Alden was struggling to maintain his composure.
Garrick looked like he wanted to disappear.
Meanwhile, the streets of Serenwyn Market bustled with life.
Merchants shouted from colourful stalls.
The smell of roasted meat mixed with fresh bread and spices.
Wheels rolled across stone roads while crowds moved around them like flowing rivers.
Ronan walked beside Orin with his hands behind his head.
The moment he teleported back, Old Man Arnold had somehow sensed it immediately.
Ronan narrowed his eyes.
That old man had a nose sharper than a hunting beast.
"Orin."
"Hm?"
"Know anyone who sells land around here?"
Orin looked surprised.
"Land?"
Then nodded.
"Yeah. Follow me."
Several streets later, they arrived at a quiet, dusty shop tucked between larger buildings.
No customers.
No noise.
Only stillness.
The scent of old paper and fading ink hung thick in the air.
Behind the counter sat an old man.
He barely looked up.
Ronan stepped forward.
"Good morning, sir. Are there any plots available for sale?"
The old man raised his eyes lazily.
He stared for a few seconds.
Then slid a pen and paper toward him.
"Plenty."
His voice sounded rough.
"Write your requirements."
Ronan lowered his head and wrote:
Large land area
Sparse population nearby
Location outside the main inner city is acceptable
He handed it back.
The old man glanced over it once.
Then nodded.
He handed Ronan a brass token.
"Return in three days."
Ronan stared.
"...That's it?"
No answer.
The old man had already gone back to reading.
Ronan blinked.
Then quietly turned around and walked out.
Outside, Orin snorted.
"I think he likes you."
Ronan stared at him.
"...I refuse to believe that."
Golden noon sunlight spread across Serenwyn Academy as Ronan and Orin returned.
Dust still clung to their boots.
Travel creases lined their robes.
At the gates, they exchanged a brief farewell before splitting up.
As Ronan walked toward his dormitory, he turned around a stone path—
Then stopped.
Kairos and Samantha stood beneath a large tree nearby.
Soft wind rustled through green leaves overhead.
Sunlight filtered through the branches, scattering shifting patches of gold across the ground.
They were talking quietly.
Ronan's face brightened instantly.
He waved enthusiastically.
"Good afternoon, Kairos! Samantha!"
Both looked over.
Samantha smiled.
"Good afternoon."
Kairos grinned.
"Welcome back."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I heard you're not participating in tomorrow's hunting competition?"
Ronan scratched his head.
"I didn't want to."
Then shrugged.
"But Orin said something interesting might happen on the hunting grounds."
Kairos tilted his head.
"Oh?"
"When did you return?"
Ronan laughed.
"Hehe. Last night."
They found a nearby round stone table and sat together.
Time passed easily.
The mood grew lighter.
Samantha brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"So..." she asked, "...why don't you want to join?"
Ronan leaned forward slightly.
His smile faded.
"The format feels wrong."
Kairos and Samantha exchanged glances.
Ronan continued.
"Why do teams need to represent teachers? Why not let students form groups naturally?"
He frowned slightly.
"I learned swordsmanship from Sir Alden."
He raised a finger.
"And fire magic from Amara."
Another finger.
"So who exactly am I supposed to represent?"
He leaned back.
"It feels like politics pretending to be competition."
Samantha crossed her arms.
Her brows furrowed.
"I actually agree."
She looked away thoughtfully.
"It's less about students and more about teachers showing off."
A small sigh escaped her.
"Especially among noble families."
"It's like a quiet power game."
"Exactly!"
Ronan threw both hands upward.
"It's another excuse for nobles to wave influence around."
Kairos leaned back lazily.
Arms folded behind his head.
"Can't argue with that."
He smirked.
"But it's still a good opportunity to test ourselves."
Samantha smiled faintly.
"Enough about that."
She turned toward Ronan.
"Where exactly did you and Orin hunt?"
Ronan's eyes lit up.
Immediately.
Excitement practically spilt from him.
He launched into the story.
Grey fog.
Strange monsters.
Dangerous encounters.
Close calls.
Valuable discoveries.
His hands moved wildly as he spoke.
Kairos and Samantha laughed repeatedly at his dramatic reenactments.
Hours slipped by unnoticed.
Eventually, Kairos stood.
"Alright."
He stretched.
"You two continue talking."
"Sir Felix wants to brief us for tomorrow."
"Good luck!"
Ronan and Samantha waved together.
Kairos waved back before disappearing down the path.
Silence settled briefly.
Then Ronan looked toward Samantha.
"There's something I don't understand."
"Hm?"
"If noble families have so many powerful people..." he said, "...why are there so few noble-born teachers here?"
Samantha's expression softened.
"Because Serenwyn Academy doesn't belong to any faction."
"It existed long before current power structures."
She looked toward the distant academy buildings.
"There's a law preventing academy authorities from interfering with clan affairs."
She paused.
"Unless the conflict threatens the kingdom itself."
Ronan looked thoughtful.
"But the influence still exists."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You can feel it."
Samantha nodded.
"Because over time..."
Her gaze lowered.
"...the clans became stronger."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Ronan suddenly grinned.
"You know a lot."
Samantha blinked.
"I should just ask you everything."
She laughed softly.
"Thanks."
Ronan raised an eyebrow.
"You look really pretty when you smile."
For a second—
Samantha froze.
Then she flicked him lightly on the forehead.
"Cheeky brat."
She looked away immediately.
The tips of her ears had already turned red.
Ronan rubbed his forehead dramatically.
"Violence! Unprovoked violence!"
Samantha failed to suppress her smile.
They talked a little longer.
Eventually, Ronan stretched and stood.
"Alright."
"I need to visit the Mindward Tower."
Samantha looked up.
"Mind if I come along?"
Ronan smiled.
Warm and immediate.
"I'd like that."
Together, they walked beneath the afternoon sun.