As soon as I entered, I was greeted by the glare of the lead professor's eyes. I recalled from the data Michael had given me that his name was Arthur Valentine—a half-breed, half-vampire and half-human.
He looked at me with such killing intent that I had to be careful. Every professor in this academy was at least in the Light Gold Core category.
"…Why did you call me immediately after the exam was over, professor?" I asked cautiously, aware that I was currently in the eye of the storm.
"Hm, I'll get things straight—what are you?" The murderous intent only grew stronger. A feeling washed over my body—an unfamiliar feeling—the sensation of fear.
"…I do not know," I answered, grunting as I struggled to remain standing on my two feet.
I felt small in front of him, but why? I was sure none of the professors were past Light Gold Core, so why was I being pressured by just his sheer intent?
He looked at me with his bloody red eyes before letting out an exasperated sigh.
"At least you're honest," he said, before withdrawing the intense killing intent. "I'm sure you're wondering why I did that."
I knelt, feeling like puking blood, but I held it in. With a ragged breath, I asked,
"Yes…" I said weakly, "do you perhaps know what I am… or who I am?"
He looked at me silently before shaking his head, a simple gesture of saying 'No.'
I nodded once and slowly took my leave. Trouble, sure—but I'd let it sit for a while. No need to rush. Not yet. The semester didn't start until tomorrow anyway. Plenty of time.
I wandered the campus grounds instead, boots quiet on the stone paths. The place was massive—tall spires of white stone, arched walkways draped in ivy, mana-lamps already flickering to life as dusk crept in. Students milled around in clusters, some laughing too loud, others whispering in corners, eyes darting like they already knew the pecking order.
Nobles in embroidered cloaks. Commoners in plain uniforms trying not to look small.
A few glanced my way—quick, then away.
They didn't know me yet.
Good.
I kept walking, hands in pockets, eyes scanning without hurry. The central fountain bubbled, surrounded by benches where groups sat. A training field in the distance—wooden dummies splintered, scorch marks on the dirt. A library tower rose higher than the rest, windows glowing warm against the cooling sky.
None of it mattered.
Not really.
It was just scenery.
A stage.
Another place to watch people pretend they weren't already rotting from the inside.
I stopped near a low wall, leaned against it, and stared at nothing in particular.
Tomorrow the semester would begin.
Classes.
Tests.
Rallies.
Rivals.
More annoying things to handle.
Boring annoying little things.
But there are more chances to learn.
More chances to take.
The yellow vow-mark on my palm always pulsed once—soft, patient. I exhaled slowly, the boredom settled deeper, comfortable as an old coat.
Let them play their games.
I'd play mine.
And when the time came, they'd learn the difference between pretending to be strong and simply being inevitable.
I walked around a bit more, letting the campus layout settle in my mind—paths, buildings, blind spots, escape routes. Nothing special. Just data. But, eventually I decided to end the day with simple meditation. The Mana Circulation Michael taught me was useful. It fit perfectly with the one I'd created—Empty Flow. Together they made the cycle twice as efficient as either alone. No waste. No friction. Just clean, reversed pull.
I returned to the private dorm, sat cross-legged on the floor, and let the mana loop through me until sleep took over.
...
Morning came with noise down the hall. I opened my eyes, still seated. The sound was unmistakable—flesh hitting flesh, laughter, a choked plea.
I stood and walked to the door, cracked it open just enough.
A commoner—scholarship kid, lucky enough to be here—lay curled on the marble. Three nobles stood over him. High families. Expensive cloaks. One boot pressed on the boy's back while another kicked his ribs like testing a sack of grain.
"Think you belong here, rat?"
"Scholarship trash—should've stayed in the gutter."
The boy wheezed apologies. They laughed harder, as I watched.
No urge to step in.
No pity.
Just observation.
As I observed a thought formed, cold and clear:
Kindness is not virtue—it is currency.
They spend it on the weak only when it buys status.
When the weak have no value left to give, kindness dries up. And the boot comes down.
The boy sobbed once more.
The nobles moved on, still laughing.
But as they walked and laugh, one of the nobles spotted me by my door. Long black hair, plain uniform—he must've mistaken me for another commoner.
He smirked, cracked his knuckles. "Hey, long-hair. You look like you belong down there with the trash."
His two friends flanked him, one shoved my shoulder, as another swung a lazy punch toward my jaw.
I tilted my head—barely, the fist passed an inch from my cheek.
Another kick—straight at my stomach, I stepped aside and it hit nothing but air.
They tried again, faster, harder and frustrated. But every strike missed. I didn't counter. I just moved—small shifts, minimal effort, like avoiding raindrops.
The noble's face reddened. "You dodging like a coward, huh? Stand still!"
I looked at him—gray eyes calm, almost polite. "You can't land a hit on a commoner like me?" The words landed harder than any punch.
His friends froze. His face twisted—shame, rage, humiliation. He snarled, mana flaring around his fist—unauthorized spell, forbidden in the halls, especially for harm.
A basic fire spark—1-star at best—shot toward my chest.
I raised one hand, and the flame snuffed out mid-air, eaten by nothing.
No sound.
No smoke.
Just gone.
He staggered back, eyes wide before slowly lowering my hand. The hall had gone quiet as students stares back and forth. But I simply turned away without another word. I don't wantvany attention.
I turned my head and saw the noble stood there, fist still raised, trembling. And soon enough, I kept walking.
The boredom hadn't lifted. But the amusement beneath it had sharpened just a little.
They thought they were predators but they were wrong. They were prey that hadn't realized the cage was already open.
Sigh… that was boring. But the technique Michael taught me was pretty useful. Nullify—simple name for a simple block.
It can stop 1-3 star magic spells, the basics. It's nothing impressive on its own but it's still… useful. It has great potential.
Time to head towards the first semester. Religion... was it? Interesting.
I made my way towards lecture hall unaware that after that incident I was already in the eye of the storm—and the wind would only grow stronger and stronger, the rain heavier and the thunder louder than ever.