The September air in the royal capital, Ikrit, was beginning to cool, shedding the last remnants of sumr heat.
A light morning breeze swept through the first-floor dormitory of Ikrit Academy of Magic, making Lance, still half-asleep, yawn as he stirred.
Today was the first day of school—no ti for lazing in bed.
Rolling out of bed and stepping out of his bedroom, Lance, still groggy and brushing his teeth, glanced out through the floor-to-ceiling window of the living area. Beyond the balcony of his dormitory, a small garden-like courtyard stretched out, with a few chirping birds resting along its edge.
As he pulled open the curtains and walked slowly toward them, the birds continued hopping about, showing no sign of fear.
Before long, more birds gathered around him, as if drawn to him, eager to stay close.
“I’m not a druid… why are you guys so fond of ?”
Lance muttered through his toothbrush, his words muffled.
He had noticed this peculiar phenonon before—whether back in the border town where stray cats would approach him on the streets or now at Ikrit Academy, where birds treated him like an old friend.
Small animals had absolutely no guard against him.
Maybe it was his naturally gentle erald-green eyes, or perhaps his presence had the serene charm of poetry and painting.
Either way, he didn’t mind being surrounded by these tiny creatures.
After freshening up, Lance put on the Sage Institute’s student uniform, which had been delivered to him by the student services center.
Then, he stood before the mirror.
The reflection staring back at him was a young man with refined features. The strands of hair near his left ear were neatly brushed back, and his soft black hair glead subtly under the sunlight. His slender, well-shaped eyebrows frad those warm, erald-green eyes, exuding both kindness and grace.
The deep blue long coat of the Sage Institute draped elegantly over his lean fra. Designed in the style of Hetton fashion, it bore an air of mystery and depth, like the midnight sky. Golden embroidery traced the coat’s loose sleeves and hem, forming intricate patterns of ancient South Continent script.
Underneath, the folded collar of his vintage white shirt was adorned with a small golden emblem—engraved with the insignia of Ikrit Academy and the protective sigil of the Sage Institute—glistening like tiny stars under the light.
His dark trousers and polished boots completed the look.
Lance stomped his feet lightly. The boots were sturdy yet comfortable—perfectly suited for an adventurer’s needs.
“Perfect. Let’s go.”
Today marked the beginning of Lance’s legendary journey!
——
Ikrit Academy, Sage Institute Main Building.
Compared to the other classical structures on campus, this building was far more modern and distinctive. The rooftop featured a series of foldable, light-sensitive magical devices, allowing natural sunlight to filter in while shielding against low-angle glare.
This year, the Sage Institute had over a hundred first-year students, randomly divided into three classes.
Elective courses didn’t have fixed classrooms; students had to follow the schedule and attend classes in different buildings. Sotis, they even had to visit multifunctional lecture halls or experintal labs in other departnts.
However, core subjects were mandatory for everyone, aning students of the sa class would always gather in a designated classroom for these sessions.
For first-year students at the Sage Institute, practical opportunities to challenge real Shadow Realms were rare in the first sester, so their schedule was packed with foundational core courses.
Take today, for example—four straight core classes: Introduction to Mana Control, Practical Spellcasting, Principles of Chantless Casting, and Mana Detection & Concealnt.
“Alright, ti for class.”
Using the campus map, Lance quickly found his classroom.
Upon stepping inside, he saw that several students had already arrived.
He was supposed to be early, but feeding his feathered friends on the balcony had taken a few extra minutes.
The tiered lecture hall had a wooden floor and was spacious, giving each student ample room to sit comfortably at their desks.
To the side, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a lush green lawn, with sunlight streaming in, making the classroom bright and inviting. The lighting combined natural and artificial sources, adjustable as needed.
As Lance entered, the students inside all reacted the sa way—giving him the “Oh look, a rare specin” kind of stare.
A black-haired, green-eyed noble? No doubt, this was him—the first-place scorer in the Sage Institute’s entrance exams.
The so-called Dark Grand Judge.
It was a nickna that so students had given him, a new classification within the Sage Institute’s arcane disciplines.
Although Lance’s performance in the second round of the entrance exams had made him quite famous, no one truly understood his combat ability.
One of the more widely circulated rumors was that “this guy had absurdly good luck—his examiner in the third round apparently suffered from so congenital cardiovascular disease, so he passed without lifting a finger.”
Naturally, many students were both envious and skeptical of him.
“Hmm.”
Glancing around at the scattered seating arrangent, Lance quickly noticed an outlier sitting alone in the back row—
Duchess Huberian.
She had been his reliable teammate during the third-round practical assessnt, Infinite Phantom Canyon.
She seed to have deliberately chosen a seat in the far back.
But more than that, the entire area around her was empty—almost as if people were avoiding her on purpose.
From the looks of it, Huberian was being socially isolated.
Lance didn’t think that was right.
So, he made his way up the steps and took a seat nearby.
“Good morning, Huberian.”
He greeted her with a smile.
“Mm.”
Huberian glanced at him, slightly surprised, then quickly turned away without responding further.
Her conflicted expression made it clear—she wasn’t intentionally ignoring him. She was distancing herself for his sake.
Lance didn’t press the conversation.
To him, where he sat didn’t matter. Huberian was simply the only person here he knew.
So, he pulled out his copy of Hetton Kingdom Judicial Exam: Real Case Studies and started reading.
Having this book as his morning companion? Absolutely perfect.
——
The day’s monotonous core classes passed exactly as expected, with no surprises.
By 4 PM, the sky had turned a warm orange-red, and the sun was beginning its slow descent. Outside the classroom, trees cast long shadows over the lawn, their leaves rustling softly in the wind.
Huberian remained in her back-row seat. Lance, too, had not moved from his spot nearby.
But their states were vastly different from the morning.
Huberian had breezed through the lessons with ease, excelling in every subject.
Lance?
He was now slumped over his desk, fast asleep.
It seed that the first three classes had taken a serious toll on him, and this half-hour break before the final lesson was his only chance to recover.
This classroom was located in one of the Sage Institute’s historic renovated buildings. The wooden fras of the doors and windows blended seamlessly with the red brick walls outside.
Inside, the high ceiling was made of plaster, retaining intricate details in the classical Hetton Kingdom style. Several magically adjustable lamps on the dod ceiling cast a soft light, making the students feel especially at ease.
Even though this was an unoccupied period between classes, the room was livelier than in the morning.
So students, already seated, quietly studied their materials while waiting for the next class to begin. Occasionally, upperclassn or students from other institutes would wander over to the Sage Institute’s hallways and classrooms, chatting with familiar faces who were starting their first day today.
In stark contrast to this lively atmosphere, the back rows of the classroom felt oddly vacant, as if so invisible barrier had isolated them from the rest of the room.
Huberian sat there quietly, her amber eyes gazing out the window at the distant sky. Her expression was blank, but her eyes carried many thoughts.
Among the visitors were upperclassn who had friendships with the new students before enrollnt, as well as prominent figures like Princess Vivian, a star freshman who had been pre-selected by teams even before arriving at the academy.
But none of that had anything to do with Huberian.
Even though she ranked second among this year’s Sage Institute freshn, no team would co recruiting her.
In the past, as long as her father was around, no one dared to mistreat her because of her Demon Clan blood. Everyone around her had seed so friendly. But now that she was alone and powerless, she was finally experiencing the hostility and suspicion directed at demons in this country.
Just making it through the day peacefully had already been a stroke of luck.
Unlike most people, she had no desire for anyone to approach her.
If any upperclassn actively sought her out, they would most certainly be troublemakers from the royal capital. It would never be a blessing—only a curse.
That said, there was one small thing she could consider fortunate:
At least there was one person—a warm and kind one—who did not despise her as a harbinger of disaster. From the mont they t, he had never harbored even the slightest malice toward her.
Huberian couldn’t help but glance at the gifted yet sowhat reckless boy sleeping beside her.
Earlier, a few students from other classes had co by, clearly intending to size up Lance. But when they saw him sitting next to her, their expressions imdiately shifted, and they made excuses to leave.
And now, Huberian had finally realized sothing.
Lance, despite looking exceptionally intelligent, was actually an idiot when it ca to spellcasting.
Aside from using magic cards, he had absolutely no grasp of spells. He was nothing like a proper magic-based combatant.
Yet, he was incredibly stubborn. Even though he was struggling, he refused to skip class or slack off.
Huberian let out a quiet sigh.
She had always thought Lance was a perfect all-rounder, but it turned out he had his own weaknesses too.
The classroom remained filled with students chatting, and the hallways outside were bustling with noise.
But Huberian continued flipping through her book in silence, turning the pages carefully to avoid disturbing Lance’s sleep.
She always repaid kindness in kind. She was soone who never forgot a grudge, but she also never forgot goodwill.
Besides, for so reason, Lance’s presence seed to have a natural calming effect on the beings around him. Even when he was just lying there asleep, his presence alone made the atmosphere more peaceful.
Without realizing it, she beca fully imrsed in her reading.
——
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sky subtly shifted with each passing minute. Heavy clouds drifted in, montarily obscuring the warm afternoon sun. The natural light in the classroom dimd intermittently, casting a soft veil over the floor’s shadows.
But this didn’t hinder Huberian’s reading in the slightest.
If anything, she only felt a strange sense of security—sothing she hadn’t experienced in a long ti.
“Huberian, I never thought you’d actually manage to enroll.”
A soft yet abrupt voice sent a chill down her spine.
She imdiately turned her head.
Standing in the aisle beside her seat was a young man with pale skin, his hands casually clasped behind his back. His expression was calm, exuding a composed yet arrogant deanor.
“……”
Though Huberian’s face remained impassive, her very presence grew visibly tense.
“Mordan… What do you want?”
It was obvious.
This was not soone she wanted to see.
Mordan Gassigus.
The second son of the Gassigus Marquis family. A powerful, exceptionally talented third-year student at the Sage Institute and an elite Shadow Realm challenger.
Compared to the nobles who openly opposed her father, Duke Aransal, it was the Gassigus family—who had once allied with the duke—that she despised the most.
Ever since Duke Aransal’s disappearance, Marquis Gassigus had shown no intention of helping her. Instead, he had been circling her like a predator, attempting to force her into marriage to bring her under the control of his family.
“Huberian, if you’re serious about challenging the Shadow Realm in your first year, you should consider joining my team. Or rather, you have to join my team, because I’m the only one who would be willing to take you through it.”
Mordan’s tone was polite, like an older brother speaking to a younger sister. But his gaze carried no disguise—his eyes reflected nothing but raw possessiveness, the hunger to claim her.
“I don’t need it.”
Huberian’s response was cold and simple.
She knew that, like Lance, she had earned an automatic promotion to Iron-tier Adventurer due to her high entrance exam scores.
But because first-year students were prohibited from challenging the Shadow Realm solo, she was dood to waste precious ti that could have been spent growing stronger.
Because—
Mordan was right.
No team in this academy would ever be willing to take in a Demon.
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