The courtyard fell silent for several seconds after the introduction.
Not a peaceful silence—a cautious one.
Students pretended to resume their conversations, but every gaze lingered on the group near the central platform. More specifically, on Darian.
Rumors of his collapse during the combat assessment had already poisoned the academy. Some claimed his mana core was permanently damaged. Others said the Ashthorn prince had nearly died challenging someone far beyond his level.
And yet here he stood, calm and composed before the Headmaster as if nothing had happened.
Professor Selena watched him closely. The instability in his mana still unsettled her. It wasn't simply weakened. It felt foreign—as though something fundamental had shifted inside him.
"Your recovery is remarkable," she said, suspicion threading beneath the polite tone. "Most students would have remained bedridden for weeks after damage of that extent."
Darian met her eyes evenly. "I've always recovered quickly."
A smooth lie.
Selena clearly didn't believe it.
Before she could press further, Headmaster Alaric intervened. "That matter can wait." His sharp amber eyes swept across the watching students, the pressure in his gaze enough to make several immediately look away. "This is still an academy courtyard, not an interrogation chamber."
Selena clicked her tongue but stepped back.
Ethan remained unusually quiet beside them. His blue eyes studied Darian with open curiosity. The prince before him felt nothing like the arrogant, insecure noble he vaguely remembered. This Darian carried himself with unsettling calm—like someone observing the world rather than reacting to it.
Darian noticed the stare. "You keep staring."
Ethan scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Sorry. You just seem… different from the rumors."
Marie glanced at Darian silently. Different. That word again.
"Rumors are usually disappointing," Darian replied.
A few nearby students coughed and looked away the moment his gaze shifted toward them.
Ethan let out a small, genuine laugh.
For the first time, Darian realized the protagonist wasn't performing. At least not right now.
Refreshingly—or dangerously—straightforward.
Headmaster Alaric turned to Ethan. "Since you're already familiar with the grounds, guide Prince Darian to the first-year dormitories."
Ethan blinked. "Me?"
Professor Selena raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Several students nearby exchanged confused glances. Pairing the academy's most discussed scholarship student with the infamous Ashthorn prince felt entirely too deliberate.
Darian recognized it immediately: a test.
Ethan nodded after a brief hesitation.
"Understood."
Marie stepped forward. "Your Highness, shall I accompany you?"
"There's no need."
She bowed, expression composed, but Darian caught the unease in her eyes. The new Darian unsettled her in ways the old one never had. And that unease, he noted, felt far more dangerous.
Headmaster Alaric and Professor Selena departed. Soon only Ethan and Darian remained in the courtyard.
Ethan sighed. "You know, people here are terrified of you."
"Should I feel honored?"
"No," Ethan said immediately. "You should probably reflect on your personality."
Silence stretched for a beat. Then Darian laughed—quiet, but real.
Several students nearby stared in shock. Even Ethan looked startled. According to every rumor, Darian Ashthorne rarely laughed.
"You're surprisingly bold," Darian said.
Ethan shrugged. "You're surprisingly normal."
Normal. If only.
"Come on," Ethan said, starting forward.
"Dormitories are this way."
The academy pathways stretched beneath the afternoon sun, ancient enchantments humming through towering buildings. Floating crystal lanterns drifted lazily overhead.
Students parted instinctively as they walked. Some bowed. Others avoided eye contact. A few whispered.
"You know, people really don't know how to act around nobles," Ethan muttered.
Darian glanced at him. "And you do?"
"Not really. I just don't care enough."
Straightforward to a fault.
"So," Ethan continued, "how much do you actually remember? About before you collapsed."
"Enough."
"You challenged someone you couldn't beat," Ethan said, tone growing serious. "You nearly destroyed your mana core."
Darian stayed silent. Of course the protagonist had noticed.
"You sound concerned," Darian observed.
Ethan scratched his cheek. "Watching someone self-destruct in front of half the academy leaves an impression."
They continued walking until the grand courtyards gave way to quieter paths lined with silver-leafed trees. The first-year noble dormitory rose ahead like a miniature palace—tall arched windows, enchanted ivy, glowing crests.
Farther away stood the scholarship dormitories: smaller, simpler, unadorned.
"How efficient," Darian murmured.
Ethan snorted. "That's one way to put it."
The moment they entered the noble dormitory hall, conversation died. Whispers rippled through the lounge.
"The Ashthorn prince…"
"He actually returned…"
"I heard his mana is unstable…"
Darian ignored them. Beneath the stares he sensed something sharper: expectation. They were waiting for weakness. For the old Darian to reappear.
Ethan leaned closer. "They're trying to figure out if you're broken."
"Then disappointing them would be rude."
Before Ethan could reply, a loud voice cut through the hall.
"Well, well."
The atmosphere shifted. Students straightened.
A tall young man with neatly combed silver hair and sharp green eyes descended the staircase. His uniform was immaculate, his noble crest ostentatious. Confidence—or arrogance—radiated from him.
Cedric Valeheart.
"So the crippled prince finally returned," Cedric said with a faint smile, clearly enjoying the audience. "Surviving after humiliating yourself that badly is rather impressive."
Ethan frowned, ready to intervene.
But Darian smiled—genuinely amused.
"Interesting," he said, stepping closer. "The confidence."
Cedric's brow twitched. "What is?"
"You insult someone publicly the moment he returns from near death." Darian's gray eyes locked onto his. "And yet you still believe yourself intelligent."
The hall went deathly silent.
Darian tilted his head slightly. "Should I congratulate your bravery…"
A pause.
"…or your stupidity?"
Cedric's expression darkened completely.