Silius was very calm.
The fact that one of the candidates had turned up dead didn't surprise him in the slightest.
Did he know something?
I searched his cold, unreadable face for even the smallest hint—
and found nothing.
They came for me two hours after Andrew left.
"Why am I here? I don't need treatment," I said, frowning at my escort when I realized I'd been brought to a temporary hospital ward.
"Orders from above," he replied dryly, not giving me a chance to speak further. "They don't want any… unforeseen circumstances interfering with the final ceremony."
Despite being led into a medical room, no one even attempted to examine me.
Instead of a doctor, the head of Gordinstreet stepped into the single room, Pavel following silently behind her.
"Director," I said, bowing my head.
"Alan Holivan," she said thoughtfully as she took a seat, "from the moment you enrolled in my academy, events have become… excessively unpredictable."
"I'm sorry," I said, lowering my gaze.
I didn't understand what I was apologizing for—or what she was getting at. Was she going to expel me? Punish me?
She said nothing.
Her gaze remained fixed somewhere behind me.
The silence stretched.
I was about to say something—anything to break it—when she finally spoke again, slow and precise:
"Our academy has always protected its students, regardless of status or class. You chose Gordinstreet. I trust you do not regret that decision."
"Of course not!" I blurted out. "I'm grateful. You saved my life. You gave me a purpose. You made me stronger."
"Then why?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning.
She wasn't angry. She wasn't pressuring me.
She spoke as if we were discussing the weather.
"Blocking. You've decided to transfer to him."
Not a question.
"…Yes." My shoulders sank as I remembered what was waiting for me after today.
"I know everything," she said just as calmly.
My eyes widened.
"Alan, the secrets of my students remain theirs. I have many… complicated cases. Yours is simply more troublesome than most," she added with a faint, almost absent smile. "I understand why Blocking's offer would benefit you."
A pause.
"He is a demon."
Not an assumption.
A statement.
So she knew.
"I didn't—"
"No." She cut me off gently, but firmly. "You don't need to explain. I know you had no idea. And I can imagine how difficult that truth must have been to accept."
She let the words settle.
"Before we continue, answer me one question. Honestly."
I nodded, tense.
"Do you still intend to become Clyde Silius's personal bodyguard? Does your new status change your goal?"
I hesitated, forcing my thoughts into something coherent.
"I never wanted to serve anyone," I said slowly. "From the beginning, my goal was to gain strength—and use it to protect the weak. Becoming Clyde Silius's bodyguard… is simply a way to follow that goal within the rules of the hidden world."
I met her gaze.
"If you're asking whether I'll use my power to influence those at the top… then maybe, yes. But if you're asking whether I'll use it to harm or oppress the people who actually need protection—then no."
"Excellent," she said with a small nod, clearly satisfied. "After the ceremony, you will leave immediately with Blocking and transfer to his academy. I will handle Clyde myself."
She turned slightly.
"And Pavel…"
Without a word, he handed me a small, pale-colored card.
"What is this?" I asked cautiously, taking it.
"Demons are dangerous and unpredictable," Pavel said. "Especially ones like Blocking. That card will allow you to return under Gordinstreet's protection if you realize his training is too much for you—or if you feel yourself starting to lose who you are. Fix the image of the academy in your mind… and swallow it."
I looked down at the card again.
It wasn't exactly small.
"You can crumple it," Pavel sighed, already sounding tired of me.
"Thank you, Director," I said sincerely. "And… for accepting me."
"Demon, human, Special, elite," she said calmly. "My father, my grandfather, and his before him all believed the same thing: anyone who crosses Gordinstreet's threshold and follows its ideals is our ally. Anyone who stands against them is our enemy."
The ceremony was held in the same stadium as the first trial.
I stood among the perimeter guards, but I could see everything happening in the arena.
Everything had been cleared and restored after the destruction of the matches.
Silius had been invited to the upper stands and seated beside the Director.
All the surviving participants—those still able to stand—were lined up at the center, waiting for the most important person of all.
The winner.
Who still hadn't appeared.
"Hey, Storik, you look so nervous it's like they're about to award your son," the guy next to me laughed.
"Son? More like a little brother," I snorted.
"Still can't believe you took some noble brat as a personal student."
"What's even harder to believe is that he actually won! No, seriously—that's insane."
My colleagues kept talking, but I stopped listening.
He'd arrived.
Alan stepped forward, dressed in our academy's uniform.
The bandages were gone.
His face looked as if the burns had never even existed.
Blocking had done his job well.
Even Samantha wouldn't have managed something this flawless.
"And here he is—the one who proved with his own strength that origin means nothing!" Marta's voice rang across the stadium as Alan took his place and lifted his head toward the upper stands.
"I didn't expect this outcome either," the second host added, "but I have to admit—these were the best matches I've ever seen!"
"It's unfortunate that Riki Moss died of sudden cardiac arrest, depriving us of the final round," Samir continued, without a trace of sympathy.
"But that doesn't diminish Alan Holivan's victory in the slightest. It was a truly spectacular, grueling, and hard-earned victory. And now—we give the floor to the Head of the Administration!"
Nikolos Sokrati rose from his seat and stepped closer to the glass, taking the microphone.
Even now, these arrogant elites couldn't help but flaunt their superiority.
It made my teeth grind.
"Alan Holivan," he began, his voice carrying across the stadium. "An aristocrat who abandoned his name and status to become a protector. Such cases are exceedingly rare."
He paused.
"Therefore, as a special exception, we are willing to overlook the fact that you have already entered a preliminary contract for the position of personal bodyguard… and grant you the right to reclaim your status and your name."
Silence.
Whispers.
Then an explosion of noise.
The audience couldn't believe it.
Neither could I.
"You will regain everything you lost," he continued. "You will be granted the right to establish a new noble branch of the Holivan name—independent from your father."
I couldn't make sense of what I was feeling.
I was glad.
Glad he could leave all of this behind.
Live safely.
But at the same time—
it hurt.
Because the distance between us would become impossible to cross.
"You're willing to grant me a new noble lineage… for my victory?" Alan's voice echoed across the arena.
A smile slowly spread across his face.
"That's even better than I imagined."