It was barely an hour since the duel ended, yet word had already spread across the capital like wildfire.
Inside The Mcronald, the once-rowdy chatter of the lunchti crowd had turned into a low, reverent buzz. The restaurant no longer felt like a place to just eat—it felt like a battlefield’s aftermath. Cernan Vellmont’s blood had been cleaned off the cobbles outside, but the mark he left—both taphorically and literally—lingered in the air.
Inigo wiped down the counter, the sll of seared beef clinging to the air as grease popped on the skillet. Lyra passed him a fresh tray of buns.
"They’re still talking about it," she murmured, eyes flicking to a group of students seated by the windows. "Every new batch that walks in has that sa look—like they’re expecting you to explode into another duel at any second."
Inigo snorted. "If they behave, there won’t be a problem."
Lyra leaned closer, lowering her voice. "I hope that’s the case. We just opened, and I don’t want us closing so soon."
"They won’t, I promise," Inigo replied.
Just then, the door swung open again—not to the usual ring of custors, but to the heavy steps of armored boots. Three figures walked in, all dressed in dark blue and gold-trimd robes bearing the seal of the Royal Ministry. The man in the lead had a chiseled face, a heavy brow, and a scowl that seed permanently etched onto his features.
"Inigo Velasquez," the man barked.
He stopped mid-flip.
"That’s ."
"I am Magistrate Halbron, under the authority of Trade and Industrial Regulation," the man declared. "This establishnt is to be reviewed and may face imdiate closure for violation of noble protection statutes and public endangernt."
Gasps erupted in the dining hall. Students shrank back, eyes wide. Lyra stepped between them instinctively.
"Violation?" Inigo repeated, his tone neutral.
"By order of Lord Albrecht Vellmont, acting head of the Ministry and father to the injured, you are to apologize in public—kneel, kiss the boots of the injured noble, and submit to a week-long ban on business while reparations are calculated."
A vein pulsed at Inigo’s temple.
He wiped his hands on his apron, calmly placed his spatula down, and stepped around the counter.
"You’re threatening to close my shop," he said, "because I defended it from a noble who was harassing a custor, then challenged to a public duel, which he lost?"
"It is the prerogative of noble law—"
"It’s also the prerogative of common law," Inigo snapped, "to file for harassnt, grave threat, and abuse of authority. Which I will, unless this farce stops right now."
Gasps again.
The magistrate stepped forward. "Watch your tongue, lowborn."
"No, you watch who you’re siding with. That duel was witnessed by two dozen students, and I assu several enchanted recording devices. He lost. I didn’t provoke him. And if you want to kiss his boots, he’ll have to be conscious enough to lift them."
The magistrate’s glare tightened.
Before either could speak further, a heavy knock echoed from the door. It didn’t open. It just bood, once, like a judge’s gavel.
Everyone turned.
The door then opened—on its own—and in stepped a tall, thin man with snow-white hair tied neatly at his nape. His cloak was a deep violet trimd in tallic silver. Arcane runes shimred along the lining of his robes. Around his collar hung a crystalline emblem shaped like a sun with seven rays.
The room went dead silent.
Lyra gasped. "That’s..."
"Headmaster Elowen," a student whispered. "One of the High Council Mages."
The principal of the Royal Magic Academy of Eldrath stepped into The Mcronald like he owned the air itself. He ignored the magistrate entirely, his gaze fixed on Inigo.
"You’re the one who bested Cernan Vellmont in a sanctioned duel?" he asked.
Inigo tilted his head slightly. "Yeah."
Elowen took a long step forward, hands clasped behind his back. "Your technique, your weapon, your mana signature—it doesn’t match any known registry. No staff, no incantation. And yet, instantaneous projection of force with high kinetic yield... And no ambient elental disruption. You didn’t cast magic."
"I didn’t."
"But you used sothing. And it’s clear you didn’t rely on brute force or luck."
Inigo gave a lazy shrug. "I use what works."
The headmaster’s eyes glead with interest.
"The Academy would like to invite you," Elowen said, "to join as a special student under independent research designation. You’d retain your business, your identity, and status as an adventurer, but you’d have full access to our resources, facilities, and curriculum."
The room gasped again.
Even the magistrate looked stunned.
"You want him?" Halbron said incredulously. "After he injured your top student?"
Elowen didn’t even glance at him. "Cernan was a fool and acted like one. Magic is not a crutch for privilege. That duel was justified, recorded, and legal. And the victor just might be the most interesting anomaly we’ve seen in decades."
Inigo took a mont to think.
He folded his arms. "You are admitting to your school?"
"Yes."
Lyra nudged him gently. "It’s a rare opportunity, Inigo. Besides, nothing will be lost."
He sighed. "I’ll think about it."
"That’s fair," Elowen replied. "But don’t take too long. Opportunity often knocks only once. Unlike ."
He turned, robes billowing as he exited the store as quietly as he’d entered.
The silence he left behind was suffocating.
Halbron, red-faced and defeated, cleared his throat and barked, "We’ll be... reviewing this establishnt at a later date."
He spun and stord out, his guards scrambling to follow.
Lyra finally let out the breath she’d been holding.
"...That was the most intense lunch shift I’ve ever had."
Inigo picked up his spatula again. "And I thought the lunch rush was bad."
She leaned on the counter, grinning. "So... magic academy student, huh?"
He shook his head, flipping another patty. "Magic academy huh? I will love to try it."
Of course, in every isekai ani or light novels, a magic academy is one that should experience.
The students still in the restaurant slowly resud their als—though now their eyes glimred not just with curiosity, but awe. Many of them whispered, others wrote in enchanted notebooks, but all had one thing in common:
They had just witnessed sothing shift in the world of Eldrath.
And the man at the center of it?
Was still grilling burgers like nothing happened.
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