Khael's POV

The academy's medical room smelled faintly of antiseptic and dried herbs. Sunlight spilled through the tall, narrow windows, cutting warm lines across the tile floor. On the padded cot in the center of the room, the dog lay still its injuries cleaned and bandaged, its breathing steady now.

Ceyla stood with her arms crossed, jaw tight.

"Tsk… if I find out who did this, I'll kill him."

Kaen, leaning against the wall, arched a brow.

"Why would you assume it's a him? What if it's a girl?"

I glanced at him, then shook my head slowly.

"Tsk, if I say it's a boy, it's a boy!" Ceyla snapped, not even looking at him.

Kaen sighed.

"Again—how do you just assume it's a boy?"

(Shit… I'm getting too old for this. They bicker like little kids.)

Ceyla's gaze flicked to Kaen.

"You must be Kaen."

"Yeah. And you… you're Ceyla Nox."

I stepped forward. "Alright, everyone, just calm down, okay?"

Before either could throw another jab, a slow, almost lazy voice drifted from the doorway.

"What a complicated world."

I turned toward the voice.

Shigeo Motome leaned against the frame, one hand in his pocket. Dark blue curls framed his face, his matching eyes half-lidded. Lightning affinity, with a Storm sub-affinity. Nicknamed Static not because of his element, but because his energy level barely registered most days.

He exhaled, bored.

"What a complicated world…"

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"To visit—" he started, but was cut off by a voice from down the hall.

"You're here, Shigeo!"

A girl stepped into view—blonde hair neatly braided, a faint bruise coloring her cheek. Saya Kurenai. Bloom affinity, Blight variant.

Shigeo's gaze sharpened just a fraction.

"You…" he sighed again. "What a complicated world."

Saya only smiled, as if his monotone was a familiar comfort.

"I told you not to overdo it," he said, eyes narrowing slightly at the bruise.

Saya pouted.

"I couldn't help it. In the last mission, we almost failed because of me."

"It's not your fault," Shigeo replied, voice flat but certain.

I watched them quietly. (They're really close, huh…)

Then Shigeo's gaze slid toward Ceyla.

"Ceyla Nox…"

Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Nothing." His expression didn't change, but I caught the flicker of thought behind his eyes—

(What a complicated world.)

Saya stepped forward, glancing toward the cot.

"Anyway… what happened to that dog?"

I glanced toward Saya, her gaze soft and curious, then shifted my eyes to Ceyla. She was crouched down beside a small bundle of fur resting on a folded cloth. The little dog's sides rose and fell slowly, its paw wrapped neatly in clean bandages.

"Someone abandoned their dog… and Ceyla found it," I said, my voice low but edged with a simmering frustration. "This dog was injured… luckily Andromeda Ban helped it."

Shigeo, sitting cross-legged near the fire, tilted his head slightly. The firelight caught the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Ban, huh…" he murmured, as though tasting the name and weighing its weight.

I gave a firm nod in reply. My fingers unconsciously curled into my palm as I glanced back at the little creature, its breathing shallow but steady.

Beside me, Kaen had been silent until now. His shoulders shifted, muscles tightening beneath his cloak. His hand curled into a fist so hard the leather of his glove creaked. "If I find out who did this to her," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble, "I will beat them to a pulp."

The fire popped, sending a small shower of sparks into the air. No one spoke for a moment. Only the steady crackle of burning wood filled the silence, each ember seeming to carry Kaen's anger with it.

….

Meanwhile — Rael Eluron.

The golden boy of Veyl Academy.

Top student. Bloom Affinity. Duelist and Healer. Kaen's main rival in the manga.

Thirteen years old, yet he stood with the quiet authority of a war-seasoned commander. His platinum hair caught the pale Umbraen light, tied back with a noble's ribbon that gleamed faintly in motion. Emerald-green eyes stayed cold not cruel focused in the way only those raised in the shadow of a great legacy could be.

His pristine white uniform carried golden embroidery in intricate Lunar Sage Candidate patterns, each stitch a mark of status and expectation. At his hip hung a sealed Shinrei scabbard slender, elegant, and dangerous. Few dared to carry such a thing unless they could truly call forth the blade inside.

Steel rang in the courtyard as he trained alone, every movement precise, every step calculated. Yet his mind kept drifting to that last mission—Team 3, Kaen Suro, Lira Valenne… and their enigmatic sensei, Raiden Kurogami.

The memory of Kaen's power replayed like an unwanted echo.

(Tsk… Kaen… when did you become that strong? No… you still can't beat me.)

He moved faster, sharper, driving the thought out through repetition.

Somewhere nearby, voices broke the rhythm.

"I abandoned that dog already… weak Echobeast anyway," a gray-haired boy said casually, his hair falling into a sharp side fringe.

His companion chuckled.

Rael didn't turn. Didn't even blink. To him, words were nothing. Power was everything.

And he would need all the power in the world if he wanted to kill the bastard who murdered his mother.

…

Meanwhile The afternoon sun hung high in a clear blue sky, casting sharp shadows across the sprawling academy grounds. The stone paths were lined with flowering shrubs, their petals fluttering softly in a gentle breeze. Students moved about in clusters, their chatter weaving through the warm air like a soft hum.

In a quieter corner near the training grounds, Andromeda Ban stood tense, eyes sharp beneath his furrowed brow. His lean frame coiled like a spring ready to snap, every muscle primed for action.

He suddenly lunged forward, fist shooting out with precision and force, striking the nose of a wiry, sneering bully squarely.

"Is it you?!" Andromeda demanded, voice low but cutting through the murmurs around them.

The bully staggered back, clutching his nose, eyes wide with surprise and pain.

"It's not me… it's… Matthew," he gasped, wincing.

Andromeda's gaze hardened. The name hit like a cold blade.

"Tsk… Matthew…" he muttered under his breath, recognizing the weight behind the name instantly.

He knew Matthew well enough Lomwel Matthew, scion of the notorious Lomwel family, known across the academy for their ruthless reputation and unchecked influence.

Andromeda's mind churned with a low growl of frustration.

(Tsk… things just got troublesome.)

The breeze lifted stray strands of his dark hair as he squared his shoulders, already plotting his next move.

To be continue