Professor Selena stared silently at the floating documents surrounding her office.
Dozens of magical inscriptions rotated slowly through the dim room, illuminating the walls with crimson light while pages turned themselves one after another beneath invisible mana currents.
Yet her attention remained fixed on a single report.
Darian Ashthorne.
Her fingers tapped lightly against the desk.
"…Impossible."
Mana signatures did not simply change overnight.
Not naturally.
Every mage possessed a unique mana pattern shaped by their body, emotions, and soul itself. Minor fluctuations were normal after severe injury or emotional trauma—
But Darian's case was different.
Fundamentally different.
It was as though the person she sensed now wasn't the same one recorded in previous academy evaluations.
Selena narrowed her eyes slightly.
His behavior had changed.
His speech patterns had changed.
Even the way he controlled his mana felt strangely refined compared to before.
Too controlled.
Too deliberate.
And perhaps most concerning of all—
He no longer behaved like an emotional noble child.
That alone unsettled her instincts.
A soft knock echoed through the office.
"Enter."
The door opened moments later.
Headmaster Alaric Vayne stepped inside calmly, his silver-lined robes swaying lightly behind him.
Selena frowned faintly.
"You're here late."
Alaric smiled mildly. "So are you."
His gaze drifted toward the floating reports.
"…Still thinking about the prince?"
Selena crossed her arms. "You sensed it too."
Not a question.
A statement.
Alaric remained silent briefly before answering calmly.
"Yes."
That single response deepened the tension inside the room.
Selena exhaled quietly.
"Something happened to him during that incident."
"Most likely."
"And you're strangely calm about it."
Alaric walked slowly toward the nearby window overlooking the academy grounds below.
Night had already settled across Virecan.
Students moved through illuminated pathways beneath magical lanterns while the towering central spire pulsed faintly against the darkness.
"The academy receives many unusual individuals," Alaric said calmly.
"But very few become truly dangerous."
Selena's crimson eyes narrowed slightly.
"And what do you think Darian Ashthorne is?"
The old headmaster remained silent for several moments.
Then—
"…Undecided."
That answer surprised her slightly.
Alaric rarely withheld judgment so openly.
Which meant he genuinely hadn't figured Darian out yet either.
Meanwhile—
Far across the academy grounds, Darian stood quietly near the large dormitory window while moonlight spilled across the room.
His gaze rested on the folded letter still sitting upon the desk.
House Reinhardt.
Celia's invitation lingered in his thoughts.
An invitation to a private meeting from one of the empire's most influential noble factions wasn't something trivial.
Especially not after today's events.
Darian already understood one thing clearly—
Celia Reinhardt wasn't approaching him out of curiosity alone.
People like her never acted without purpose.
Which meant this meeting would reveal something important.
The question was whether that something would become useful…
Or dangerous.
A soft sigh escaped Marie from nearby.
"You're definitely going."
Darian glanced toward her.
"You sound disappointed."
"I sound realistic."
Marie crossed her arms lightly.
"Private meetings with noble heirs rarely end well."
"That's what makes them interesting."
Marie looked entirely unconvinced by that logic.
"You realize this could be a political trap."
"It probably is."
"And you're still going?"
Darian's faint smile returned slightly.
"Now I'm even more interested."
Marie stared at him silently before rubbing her temple.
"You've become troublesome."
"That's an improvement from being useless."
That immediately silenced her.
Because unfortunately—
He wasn't wrong.
The current Darian was undeniably more capable than the previous one.
Even if that change remained deeply unsettling.
Darian shifted his attention back toward the academy grounds below.
Students still wandered through pathways beneath the night sky.
Some laughed carelessly.
Others trained despite the late hour.
And somewhere within these walls—
Future kings, generals, scholars, and monsters quietly prepared for the roles they would one day play.
Virecan Academy truly was dangerous.
Not because of strength alone—
But because ambition gathered here more densely than mana itself.
A knock suddenly interrupted the silence again.
Marie frowned immediately. "Another one?"
"This room is becoming popular."
Darian opened the door casually.
A different academy attendant stood outside this time.
Unlike the previous one, this young woman appeared visibly nervous.
"Y-Your Highness…"
She bowed quickly before extending a small black card toward him.
Darian accepted it silently.
No seal.
No name.
Only a single sentence written across the surface in silver ink.
The eastern garden isn't the only place where people are watching you.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Marie's expression darkened immediately after reading it.
"…That wasn't sent by House Reinhardt."
"No."
Darian's eyes narrowed slightly.
The handwriting differed completely from Celia's elegant script.
This one felt sharper.
More hurried.
Almost cautionary.
Or threatening.
Marie looked toward him seriously now.
"You should report this."
"To whom?"
She hesitated.
Exactly.
The academy itself was already filled with factions and hidden agendas.
Reporting it would accomplish little besides revealing weakness.
Darian turned the black card between his fingers thoughtfully.
Someone had warned him intentionally.
Which meant one of two things—
Either somebody wanted to help him…
Or someone wanted him paranoid before tomorrow's meeting.
Both possibilities were useful.
Because both revealed interest.
And interest meant value.
A slow smile appeared on Darian's face.
Marie noticed immediately and sighed.
"You're enjoying this."
"A little."
"That is deeply concerning."
Probably.
But Darian couldn't deny it anymore.
For the first time since arriving in this world—
He genuinely felt engaged.
Every interaction carried hidden meaning.
Every conversation concealed motives.
Every person wore layers behind their smiles.
It reminded him less of a fantasy novel…
And more of a battlefield disguised as civilization.
His gray eyes drifted once more toward the moonlit academy outside.
Then quietly—
"Let's see what kind of game Virecan wants to play."