Next day arrived, and Ethan rolled out of bed with the rising sun, already halfway through tying his sash when he paused.

  Mana Manipution css.

  Then it hit him—he’d been dismissed from attending this week.

  He blinked.

  “That’s right… I’m free this morning.”

  A rare gift.

  Which meant he had until the afternoon’s Potion Crafting css to do whatever he wanted.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall like it might suggest something worthwhile.

  “I could try training the Memory Circution Technique…” he muttered.

  But his motivation didn’t show up.

  To properly train it, he’d need to burn a full spell into his heart, but all he knew were zero-grade spells. Burning one of those would feel like carving a stick figure into a temple wall. He needed something stronger. Something worthy.

  He sighed.

  “Misha…?”

  He considered going to help her train again. The memory of her flustered face and that dramatic bite fshed through his mind.

  He shivered. “...Yeah, no. Better not push my luck.”

  What he really needed was to dig deeper into Dark Magic. Every step he took there brought him closer to breaking the curses in his body.

  And for that, there was only one person he could turn to: Lilith.

  “She won’t kill me for showing up unannounced... right?”

  He left his dorm and made his way toward the infirmary.

  Inside, the usual scent of herbs and alchemical reagents hit him like a welcome mat soaked in menthol. Professor Alric sat behind his desk, eyebrows furrowed as he scribbled through what looked like a mountain of paperwork.

  Without gncing up, the old man said, “If you’re not dying, I’m busy.”

  “I’m not dying,” Ethan replied with a half-smile. “I was actually looking for Lilith. I’ve got some free time this morning and wanted to ask if she’s avaible for an extra Dark Magic lesson.”

  At that, Alric finally looked up, snorting through his nose.

  “Young fool, do you think I keep that girl locked in a closet somewhere?”

  Ethan blinked. “I… didn’t say that?”

  “Lilith’s a Royal Academy student,” the professor said, already returning to his paperwork. “She only comes here on weekends to help me. Some part-time family bonding, some unofficial tutoring, and a whole lot of pestering. She left st night.”

  “Oh. She’s from there?”

  Alric grunted. “You thought a girl that sharp came from here?”

  “…That stings a little.”

  “Should sting more. Maybe then you’d study harder.”

  Ethan hesitated. “Well… if Lilith’s not here, maybe you could—”

  “Do I look free?” Alric thundered, waving a hand over the mountain of papers. “Go juggle knives or read a book. Just don’t loiter here unless you’re bleeding out.”

  And with that, he returned to scribbling furiously, muttering something about “useless brats with too much time.”

  Ethan was politely—but firmly—escorted out by the closing door.

  Standing outside, he sighed. “Alright, pn A failed.”

  He turned toward the courtyard, wondering what to do next, when he spotted a familiar shape sitting beneath one of the trees.

  Long silver-white hair. A thick book resting on her p.

  Eliza Frost.

  She looked like she was trying to intimidate the book into submission.

  Ethan raised a brow, considered his options… and smirked.

  “Okay then, Pn B…” he muttered, and started walking toward her.

  “Hey, Eliza. What’s up?” Ethan greeted, waving casually as he strolled toward her.

  Eliza looked up slowly from the thick book resting on her p, her frown forming the instant she heard her name.

  “Ethan,” she said coolly. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing much,” he shrugged. “Just noticed we’re both free this morning and—oh!” His eyes lit up. “Is that the Rune Compendium?”

  Eliza shifted slightly, pulling the book closer to her chest. “Maybe. Why?”

  “Can I see it for a sec?” he asked, already leaning in to get a better look.

  Recognizing it as the same book Lilith had used to teach him, an idea sparked in his mind. He straightened with a grin.

  “Hey, Eliza, want help memorizing the runes?”

  “I’m fine,” she said ftly.

  Ethan grinned wider. “Come on. I’m not trying to bother you. Let’s make a game out of it. We can py and memorize at the same time.”

  “A game?” she repeated, unimpressed.

  “Yeah. Just wait here, I’ll be right back!” Without giving her time to protest, Ethan turned on his heel and jogged off toward the marketpce.

  A short while ter, he returned with a small sack of square-cut wood tiles clunking at his side. Dropping them down beside her, he opened the bag with a dramatic flourish.

  “Ta-da! Wood tiles. Perfect for a rune matching game.”

  “What even is this?” Eliza asked, blinking.

  “It’s called Memory. Ever heard of it?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it’s simple,” he said, already sorting the tiles. “We make pairs. One tile has a rune; the other has its meaning. Mix them up face down. Each turn you flip two tiles. If they match, you keep the pair and go again. If not, next pyer. Easy.”

  Eliza raised a brow. “This… is how you study?”

  “It works, I swear! You remember better when you’re engaged—and let’s be honest, you were going to memorize them the boring way, weren’t you?”

  Eliza stared at him, then sighed with dramatic resignation. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

  They had only just begun preparing the first few rune tiles when voices echoed faintly around the corner.

  “…Wait. Is that Ethan?” Celica asked, peeking around the corridor.

  Anya leaned in as well. “With… Eliza?”

  Misha took one gnce and stopped cold in her tracks. There he was—Ethan—sitting next to Eliza in the courtyard, heads bent close together, wood tiles spread out between them like some kind of shared secret. Misha’s stomach twisted.

  “They’re… really close,” she muttered.

  “It looks like a date,” Celica whispered.

  Anya looked at Misha. “What do you want to do?”

  Misha shook her head, stepping back. “Forget it. I’m going back.”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Celica said, grabbing her by the wrist before she could retreat. “You’ll regret it if you just walk away.”

  “I won’t,” Misha insisted, looking away. “It’s none of my business anyway.”

  “Yes, it is,” Anya said, stepping in front of her. “You’ve been pouting about this for days. If you just leave now, it’s going to eat at you all weekend.”

  “And besides,” Celica added, “what if it’s not even what it looks like? You’ll just spend the next week imagining the worst.”

  Misha bit her lip, her eyes flicking once more toward the courtyard. Ethan was smiling, talking animatedly, while Eliza sat calm and composed beside him.

  “…It still looks like a date,” she mumbled.

  “Then go crash it,” Celica said, grinning. “Worst-case scenario? We embarrass him.”

  Anya elbowed her. “Don’t crash it. Just… go ask what they’re doing. If it’s innocent, then you’ll know. If it’s not—”

  “—we burn the tiles,” Celica finished.

  Misha exhaled shakily. Her friends were right—if she didn’t go now, she’d never stop wondering.

  “…Fine,” she said quietly. “Let’s go.”

  Together, the trio stepped out from behind the wall and made their way across the courtyard.

  Ethan noticed them first.

  “Eliza, that rune’s upside down—oh!” His face lit up. “Hey, girls! Want to join in?”

  Misha froze again, but Anya gently nudged her forward.

  “It’s a rune memorization game,” Ethan expined, gesturing at the spread of tiles. “We’re turning study into something fun. Helps for Monday’s css. Want to try?”

  The warm welcome caught them off guard.

  Misha hesitated… then slowly sat down.

  Anya and Celica followed, exchanging silent victory grins behind her back.

  As they took their pces, the tension in Misha’s chest began to ease—just a little.

  With three extra pairs of hands, the rune memory game pieces were finished in record time. Once everything was set and spread across the courtyard bench and floor, the group began their first round.

  It didn’t take long before Celica leaned toward Ethan, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “So,” she said casually, flipping over a tile. “Do you and Eliza hang out often?”

  Ethan, focused on matching runes, answered without a second thought. “Nope. First time.”

  Anya arched a brow. “Really? You two seem… unusually close.”

  “We’re not,” Ethan and Eliza replied at the same time—perfectly in sync.

  Which, of course, made it feel anything but innocent.

  Misha fidgeted in pce, staring extra hard at the tiles in front of her.

  “Are you two going out?” Celica asked bluntly, dropping all subtlety.

  Misha nearly choked on air, her eyes widening, while Anya’s hand twitched toward her cup as if bracing for impact.

  Ethan frowned, clearly caught off guard. “Of course not! Where the hell did you hear such stupid rumors?”

  Eliza’s brow twitched. She leaned back, arms crossed, feigning indifference—but her tone was anything but casual. “Stupid, huh? So what, I’m not good enough for you?”

  Ethan looked at her, confused. “What? No, I mean—you’re way too good for me! That’s why there’s no way I’d stand a chance.”

  “THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Misha blurted, face red as her hair ribbon.

  Everyone turned to stare.

  Realizing what she just yelled, Misha shrunk back in her seat, practically hiding behind Anya. “I-I mean, that’s not… I wasn’t…”

  Anya coughed, trying to rescue her. “S-So, just to be clear… nothing’s going on between the two of you?”

  “Nope,” Ethan said.

  “Absolutely not,” Eliza added, more quietly.

  “Good,” Celica said with a smile—before sneakily reaching for another tile after failing to make a pair.

  “Hey!” Ethan caught her hand mid-way. “You already finished your turn!”

  She stuck out her tongue. “Oops. Honest mistake.”

  Misha, still red-faced, peeked across the circle. Despite everything, her lips curved into the tiniest smile. Maybe it was a misunderstanding after all.

  The game went on for quite some time, ughter and the occasional groan of defeat breaking the stillness of the courtyard. Ethan won a few rounds, Eliza won a few more, and on rare, glorious occasions, one of the other girls would cim victory, usually with a mix of sharp memory and sheer luck.

  As the turns went on, the topics of conversation shifted—grades, css gossip, compints about professors, and other random bits of nonsense. Eliza rolled her eyes when someone brought up Potion Crafting. Misha shyly asked how everyone did on their Geography test. Anya went on a small tangent about the weird fvors the cafeteria kept trying out for soup. It was easygoing. Comfortable. Almost like they were just a group of normal students, not healers-in-training with the weight of the future on their shoulders.

  Then Celica leaned back on her hands and tilted her head toward Ethan. “So, about the tournament,” she asked, a spark of curiosity lighting up her eyes. “Were you able to recruit Christopher?”

  “Don’t you mean Lord Christopher?” Anya teased, nudging her side with a pyful grin.

  Celica blushed and shot her a look. “Shut up.”

  Ethan smirked but let it slide. “We did find him, yeah.”

  “Oh!? So what happened?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, he was sparring with a third-year when we showed up. Looked like a real fight at first. We thought something was wrong and… long story short, we jumped in and accidentally helped him knock the guy out.”

  “You what?” Eliza blinked, eyebrows rising.

  “I know, I know.” Ethan held up his hands in surrender. “It was a misunderstanding, alright? We dragged the guy to the infirmary and got thoroughly scolded by both Professor Alric and Christopher.”

  Celica groaned, pressing her palm to her face. “Ugh! I knew I should’ve followed you two. Something exciting always happens when I’m not around!”

  Ethan gave her a sly grin. “You’d have loved it.”

  “Anyway,” he continued, “turns out Christopher already had a team pretty much formed, so he turned us down.”

  Celica’s eyes dimmed. “Oh.”

  “But…” Ethan’s voice shifted, and he gnced at Eliza. “He did have one spot left—thanks to someone.”

  Eliza gave him a sidelong gnce. “I told you, I’m going to be too busy to waste time on some foolish tournament that leads nowhere.”

  Misha looked at her, surprised. “You’re not joining? But you’re like… the best in our year.”

  Eliza gave a small, dismissive shrug. “Exactly why I don’t need to prove anything.”

  Ethan chuckled. “Right, right. Well, anyway, since Eliza turned him down, Christopher needed someone to fill that st spot. And I thought, hey—Daniel could use some exercise.”

  “You what?” Misha gasped.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Ethan said, waving it off. “He resisted at first, but when he found out who the others were, he practically signed in blood.”

  Celica leaned in eagerly. “Who else is on the team?”

  “Let’s see…” Ethan ticked them off with his fingers. “Top mage—Ravyn Albright. Top ranger—Kael Varn. Top warrior—Christopher Lightwatch. And now… top skirt chaser—Daniel Rooks.”

  “Top what!?” Anya burst out, ughing.

  “What else do you want me to say?” Ethan grinned. “It’s not like he’s top in anything else.”

  Even Eliza let out a small ugh, and Misha struggled not to join in, her lips curling into a reluctant smile.

  “So Christopher just let him join, just like that?” Celica asked, raising a skeptical brow.

  Ethan grinned. “Nope. It wasn’t that simple.”

  “Then what happened?” Misha leaned in, curious despite herself.

  “To prove he could carry his own weight,” Ethan said, his voice dropping into storyteller mode, “Christopher challenged Daniel to a sparring match.”

  “Ooooh,” Anya whispered. “Now this I wanna hear.”

  “Picture it,” Ethan began, his eyes glittering with dramatic fir. “The sun was already beginning to set behind the mountains, casting this golden-orange glow across the training arena. The wind rustled through the trees, and the stone floor shimmered like it was holding its breath.”

  “Daniel stepped forward, grabbing a massive two-handed longsword from the rack—one of those heavy ones that takes both arms just to lift. Christopher, on the other hand, went for a single-handed bde and a shield, looking like a knight stepping out of a storybook.”

  Celica blinked. “He uses a shield?”

  “Oh yeah,” Ethan nodded. “And not just for show. When they stepped into the ring, it was like watching two storms collide. Daniel opened with this massive overhead ssh—bam!—and Christopher blocked it clean, the cng echoing across the empty arena like thunder.”

  Ethan stood and mimed the scene with his hands, swiping down in slow motion. “Then Daniel followed up with a whirlwind of attacks. I’m talking non-stop—left, right, a spinning ssh—like he was trying to cut through a forest.”

  Misha’s eyes widened.

  “But Christopher? He was calm. Focused. Blocking every blow, dodging just enough. It looked like he was getting pushed back—but the guy was just reading Daniel’s moves, learning his rhythm. Like a chess master baiting his opponent.”

  “Ohhh, I love this,” Anya whispered.

  “Then—” Ethan smacked his fist into his palm. “—Christopher changed pace. ‘Good attacks,’ he said, all calm and knightly. ‘Now let’s see how you defend.’ And bam, the roles flipped!”

  He made a flurry of motions with his hands. “Shield bash. Side ssh. Low sweep. He was all over Daniel. I could barely keep up with my eyes. Daniel blocked what he could, but you could see the pressure wearing him down.”

  Celica was completely caught up. “Then what?”

  “In the final exchange,” Ethan said dramatically, “Christopher smmed his shield forward, knocking Daniel off bance, then flicked Daniel’s sword right out of his hands with one clean strike. Before Daniel could even react, Christopher had his bde pointed right at his throat.”

  “Whoa…” Misha breathed.

  “And then?” Anya prompted.

  Ethan smirked. “Then Christopher helped him up and said, ‘Not bad. You’ve got potential—but if you want to be part of this team, you’re training with me. Every day.’”

  Celica whistled. “That’s like… some story you can only read in fiction books.”

  “Exactly!” Ethan sat back down, satisfied. “So Daniel’s in. Whether he survives the training, though? That’s what you will find out in volume 2!”

  The girls burst into ughter again—except Eliza, who only rolled her eyes and muttered, “Boys and their dramatics.” But even she was smiling slightly.

  “I wish I’d seen that match,” Misha said softly.

  “Don’t worry,” Ethan said with a wink. “The Tournament might be even better.”

  “What about you, Ethan?” Misha asked, eyes flicking toward him. “Not entering the tournament?”

  “Me?” Ethan scoffed, leaning back and spreading his arms wide. “What the hell am I supposed to do there? Run away from the other team’s warrior to buy time?”

  The group burst into ughter.

  “If I had the stamina, maybe I could even try that,” he added with a grin. “But you all know how well I do in Physical Education, right? My case is simply hopeless!”

  “That’s not true,” Misha said suddenly, her voice a bit louder than expected.

  Everyone turned.

  Misha blinked, then continued, quieter but firm, “Despite not having a lot of stamina, the way you swing the sword is... beautiful. Precise. It’s clear you’ve trained really hard.”

  Ethan paused, caught off guard. A small, appreciative smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  “Well… thanks for the encouragement, Misha.”

  Celica tapped her chin thoughtfully, gncing at Ethan. “You know… now that I think about it, your sword swings are weirdly clean. Like, too clean for a beginner. For that kind of form, you’d need at least two years of training, maybe more. But if that’s true…” she narrowed her eyes, “how come your stamina’s so low?”

  Ethan gave a strained smile. “Because my body’s not exactly in its best shape,” he admitted. “I’ve got a few… problems holding me back. Until I solve them, I can’t really improve anything but the technique.”

  “So you have trained before?” Misha asked, curious.

  “Yeah,” Ethan nodded. “I’m from a frontier vilge—one of the three we studied st month. Over there, training starts at twelve for everyone, boys and girls. It’s just part of life.”

  “Twelve?” Anya’s eyes widened. “Then that means you’ve got four years of training already?”

  “And your body’s still that pathetic?” Eliza added ftly, folding her arms. “Hmph. Talk about waste of time!"

  “Yeah, well…” Ethan scratched the back of his head. “As I said, it’s a problem with my body. But…” He smiled faintly. “After coming to this Academy, I finally got a clue on how to fix it. If not for that, I’d probably be a lost case for life.”

  There was a short silence, then Misha leaned in. “Is there anything we can help with?”

  Ethan blinked, then shook his head gently. “No… but thanks for asking.”

  At that moment, Daniel dashed past in pursuit of two unfamiliar girls, dramatically calling out, “Ladies, beauties, wait for me!”

  But mid-sprint, he caught a glimpse of Ethan sitting calmly among five girls, ughing and chatting.

  He skidded to a halt, blinked, then broke into a wide, exaggerated grin. With both hands, he pointed at Ethan like he was witnessing a living legend, mouthing, “You’re my idol!” before taking off again after his prey.

  Ethan’s face flushed red in an instant.

  Daniel! Wait! I swear it’s not a harem! he wanted to scream—but of course, there was no universe in which he could actually say that out loud.

  Instead, he just slumped forward with a sigh, then straightened up and cleared his throat.

  “So…” he smiled weakly. “How about another round?”