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That the Academy deliberately manipulated the scores.

...Yeah. And what the hell am I supposed to do about that?

"Ha," a dry laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "This is ridiculous."

"Louis?"

I could hear the uncertainty in Elena’s voice behind , but right now, I didn’t have the luxury to reassure anyone.

So this is how they see .

Because I stayed quiet.

Because I didn’t flaunt my abilities.

Because I didn’t make noise like the others.

They must’ve decided I was an easy target.

I took a step forward, eting their gazes head-on. The murmurs around us grew louder, curious eyes gathering like vultures.

"I won’t accept being accused of cheating," I said calmly—but there was an edge to my voice now. "Especially over sothing I didn’t do."

They were treating like a criminal. Like soone who’d crossed a line.

I clenched my fist.

I might not be exceptional. I might not stand out.

But I do have principles.

I had deliberately adjusted my written exam score to stay just below the scholarship threshold. I did it to avoid attention. To keep things simple.

And now?

Now they were dragging into the spotlight anyway.

"So," I continued, my gaze locking onto Edin, "you want proof. Fine. How do you want to do this?"

Edin’s lips curled upward, as if he’d been waiting for that exact question.

"Simple," he said. "Prove your skill. If you win a duel against this student, we’ll acknowledge that the suspicions surrounding you are unfounded."

He gestured to the side.

A student stepped forward.

The boy wore a bright red bandana wrapped tightly around his head, his uniform slightly loosened, posture relaxed but confident. His stance alone told everything—I wasn’t dealing with an amateur.

"Edmund," soone whispered nearby.

Yeah. That Edmund.

But....

This is ridiculous.

Whether I co from a noble family or not, there are limits.

I don’t particularly care about authority, titles, or hierarchy—but being looked down on like this is another matter entirely.

I have my pride, too.

And I’m not about to let this slide.

"Do you doubt as well?"

My voice ca out calr than I felt.

"...I’m sorry," Edmund replied, though his tone carried little sincerity. "But I’d like you to prove it."

I clicked my tongue.

"This is such bullshit."

So he was doubting . Of course he was.

Edmund raised his sword quietly, his expression stiff and unreadable. There wasn’t a hint of apology on his face—only wariness, mixed with sothing close to irritation.

I honestly couldn’t understand what he found so hard to believe.

Was it really that unacceptable that I was stronger than him?

There’s arrogance—and then there’s this.

For a brief mont, a bitter thought crossed my mind.

I’d seriously tried to help this guy. Tried to set him up with Elena, to push the story back on track.

What a joke.

I stepped forward, planting my foot firmly against the training ground floor, and let my breathing steady. There was no need to rush. No need to overdo it.

I simply reached inward.

Mana flowed naturally—smooth, familiar—and wrapped itself around my grip.

Then—

A bright yellow aura blood around my sword, flickering like restrained lightning.

The air shifted.

Gasps rippled through the surrounding students.

"An aura...!" soone whispered.

Edmund’s eyes widened. "You were a sword user... all along?"

"Yes," I replied flatly. "Are you finally realizing sothing’s wrong?"

A cold smile tugged at my lips.

Aura wasn’t sothing you could fake.

It was the proof of countless hours of training, of complete harmony between body, mana, and weapon.

And Edmund knew it.

His grip tightened. I could see the tension creep into his shoulders, the confidence he’d worn so casually cracking at the edges.

"...I didn’t think—"

"No," I cut him off. "You didn’t want to think."

I raised my sword slightly, the aura flaring in response, humming softly like a living thing.

"I’m not here to show off," I continued. "And I’m not interested in proving myself to everyone who feels insecure."

My gaze locked onto his.

"But if you’re going to challenge —then don’t do it half-heartedly."

Edmund swallowed hard and shifted his footing, this ti abandoning the stiffness he’d worn earlier. His grip tightened, knuckles paling around the hilt.

If he wanted to see the difference between us—

Then I’d make sure he understood it clearly.

A faint but unmistakable sword aura began to coil around Edmund’s blade, thin and unstable, like mist trying to take shape. It was enough to draw a few gasps from the surrounding students.

But compared to mine—

I exhaled slowly.

My aura flowed naturally, wrapping around my sword like a second skin. It wasn’t violent or explosive; it was calm, refined, and dense. The kind that ca from countless repetitions, from understanding rather than brute force.

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"Wait... that aura—"

"Then the rumors really were exaggerated?"

"So they were just picking on him for nothing?"

I didn’t even need to look to know what was happening. I could feel it—the shift in atmosphere, the subtle change in how people looked at . Doubt turning into hesitation. Hesitation turning into belief.

First-year students capable of manifesting aura were rare to begin with.

First-years who could control it this cleanly were rarer still.

And among them, my level stood clearly apart.

If my written grades hadn’t been diocre, that alone would’ve raised eyebrows. A sword without flaws always invited suspicion.

"Are you backing down and running away?" I asked flatly.

The words weren’t loud, but they cut cleanly.

Edmund flinched.

"...Of course not."

Yet his sword had dipped. Just slightly—but enough. His fighting spirit wavered, flickering like a candle in the wind.

I stepped forward.

Not fast. Not slow. Just enough to close the distance and remind him I was there.

Edmund’s jaw tightened. Whether it was pride or frustration, sothing finally snapped back into place. He sucked in a breath and raised his sword again, aura trembling but present.

That’s better.

The mont stretched.

Aura pressed against aura. The air between us grew heavy, charged, like the calm before a storm. A few students unconsciously stepped back.

Then—

"Subdue them all!"

Anna’s sharp command sliced through the tension.

Before either of us could move, the sound of armored boots thundered across the training grounds. Knights poured in from every direction, swords already drawn, movents precise and practiced.

"What—?!"

"Hey, wait—!"

Students barely had ti to react.

In seconds, the knights were among us.

One knocked a sword aside with the flat of his blade. Another pinned a student to the ground with ruthless efficiency. Magic restraints snapped into place, glowing briefly before fading.

Edmund turned his head in shock. "W-What is this?!"

I clicked my tongue softly.

So this is how they’re ending it.

A knight stepped between us, his presence oppressive, sword held low but ready. I felt no killing intent—but the pressure alone was enough to make the ssage clear.

This wasn’t a request.

"Ugh...! So it was all lies after all, Anna!"

"I’m only doing what needs to be done," Anna replied coldly. "You were the ones who broke the rules first."

"Damn it...!"

With that, the last of the rioters were finally subdued. Groans echoed across the courtyard as students lay scattered on the ground, weapons knocked aside, resistance completely crushed.

I let out a slow breath, watching the scene with mixed feelings.

...Honestly, it’s a little disappointing.

That loudmouthed guy who kept shouting about justice—I should’ve at least landed one punch on his smug face. Just one.

Still, all things considered, this was the best possible outco. No deaths. No irreversible damage. The situation, while ssy, was more or less under control.

Thinking that, I began to relax and moved to sheathe my sword.

That was when—

"We have a big problem!"

"...Sigh. What is it now?"

Before I could even finish putting my weapon away, a student council mber ca sprinting toward Anna, his face pale and drenched in sweat. He looked like soone who’d just seen the end of the world.

"Huff... huff... It—it was being broadcast externally!"

"...What?"

Anna’s expression hardened instantly.

"What do you an by that?" she asked, her voice sharp. "Explain. Slowly."

The student swallowed hard.

"Every citizen in the Empire saw it," he said. "The suppression. The students being subdued. It was stread in real ti."

"...What did you just say?"

The words didn’t sink in imdiately.

Broadcast.

Externally.

In real ti.

My mind replayed the scene just monts ago—students shouting about discrimination, about inequality, about injustice... and then being forcefully crushed by the Academy’s authority.

Not behind closed doors.

Not buried in reports.

But shown to everyone.

"...We’re screwed," I muttered under my breath.

Anna fell silent, her lips pressed into a thin line. For the first ti since this whole incident began, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face.

This wasn’t just an Academy problem anymore.

The Empire’s citizens had seen nobles—future leaders—being violently suppressed for demanding equality. So would see it as necessary order. Others would see it as tyranny.

Either way, opinions would split.

And once public sentint starts moving... no one can stop it.

"The nobles will be furious," soone whispered nearby.

"And the commoners won’t stay quiet about this," another voice followed.

I clenched my jaw.

This incident was supposed to be a contained spark—sothing that burned out before it could spread. Instead, it had just been thrown into a barrel of oil and lit in front of the entire Empire.

So this is what the Sage’s Bookmark ant.

Several weak possibilities.

None strong enough to destroy the world on their own—but together? Intertwining like cracks spreading through glass?

I slowly exhaled.

"It seems," I thought grimly, "the story’s entered a phase even the original webtoon never showed."

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