Morning had fully settled over Crownspire Academy.
The wide stone paths that ran through the academy grounds were alive with movement as students poured in from every direction, their white uniforms trimmed with gold catching the sunlight like scattered reflections of the towers around them. Laughter, chatter, and the restless excitement of young voices filled the air, creating a constant murmur that echoed between the ivory buildings.
Damon walked among them at an unhurried pace.
In his hand was a half-eaten hotdog, the paper wrapping crinkling slightly as he took another bite. The smell of grilled meat and bread mixed strangely with the refined atmosphere of the academy, yet the sight of students eating while walking seemed common enough that no one paid it any attention.
All around him, groups of teenagers talked animatedly as they headed toward the main academic halls.
"Did you hear? The combat trials are this week!"
"My brother said the professors here can sense mana fluctuations from across the hall…"
"I wonder which house I'll get placed in…"
The voices overlapped in bursts of excitement and nervous energy, the unmistakable sound of young students stepping into the next stage of their lives.
Damon listened to the chatter only distantly as he took another slow bite.
His gaze drifted across the passing faces—some confident, some anxious, some clearly trying too hard to look composed.
Children, he thought faintly.
His mind, however, wandered back to earlier that morning.
The memory surfaced vividly: the maid's panicked face, her brown eyes wide and flustered under his grip.
"Y–you… you just looked handsome…"
Damon grumbled under his breath as he chewed.
"She could have at least come up with a different excuse."
He swallowed, irritation lingering more from the memory than the taste.
Hmph.
His steps remained steady as he moved with the flow of students.
I am getting too comfortable around her.
The realization surfaced with quiet clarity.
Now that I think about it… why was she sent as my maid to the academy in the first place?
It was unusual. Noble families often sent attendants, yes, but the selection itself was rarely random.
And that night…
He frowned faintly.
Even then, I seemed to lose control in front of her.
That alone bothered him.
I should stay away from her as much as possible. It's good that in my past life, due to so much assasination attempts, I had dabbled through different fighting techniques. And this body…it's the best possible body for movement and power. Well back to the maid..
His mind began arranging the thought into something more practical.
If possible, I should send her back.
He took another bite of the hotdog.
I can manage living alone perfectly well.
In fact, it might be preferable.
Reliance was a weakness.
And House Valecrest—no matter how powerful—was not something he could trust indefinitely.
I should not depend on them too much.
The idea settled naturally into a larger plan.
If I am going to survive in this world, I will eventually need my own backing.
A business.
An independent source of power and influence.
Something that did not rely on family approval.
He finished the last bite of the hotdog and crumpled the paper wrapper in his hand thoughtfully.
At least the food in this world is not bad.
After swallowing, he glanced around at the sea of uniforms moving through the courtyard.
Then he muttered quietly to himself,
"By the way… where exactly is my classroom supposed to be?"
Damon had barely finished muttering to himself when a sudden movement caught his attention.
A young man in the academy uniform rushed forward from the crowd and dropped to one knee directly in front of him.
Damon stopped mid-step.
The first thing he noticed was the bright orange hair.
The second thing he noticed was the intensity.
The young man looked up at him with sparkling eyes that seemed to glow with excitement.
"Boss!!!" he exclaimed loudly, drawing a few curious glances from nearby students. "I knew you would come back one way or another! A small setback like that could never stop your rise!"
Damon instinctively took a step back.
For a moment, he simply stared at the young man.
The enthusiasm was so overwhelming that it almost felt like the man's eyes had literal stars in them.
…What is this?
His mind searched quickly for a category.
Is this one of those blind-worship characters who exist only to fuel the arrogance of villains?
He quickly composed himself, his expression returning to its usual calm neutrality.
"Do you know where my classroom is?" he asked.
The young man immediately jumped to his feet, his excitement not diminishing in the slightest.
"Huh? You don't know where the classroom is?" he asked in surprise.
Damon opened his mouth, already preparing a reasonable excuse.
Before he could speak, however, the young man suddenly snapped his fingers.
"Oh! That's right!" he said brightly. "You were expelled during the first practical lesson on the very first day! So you never actually got to find out where the classroom was!"
He burst into laughter.
"Hahahahaha! That's my boss for you!"
Damon's lips twitched faintly.
Is he insulting me… or praising me?
For a moment, he simply pressed his fingers against his forehead before lowering his hand again.
When he spoke, his tone carried noticeably more authority.
"Are you going to guide me," he asked flatly, "or not?"
The young man didn't appear flustered in the slightest.
Instead, he grinned widely and gestured ahead with theatrical enthusiasm.
"Hehehe… leave it to me! Let this Eric be your guide for today, Boss!"
He turned immediately and began walking through the crowd.
Damon followed behind him.
So his name is Eric.
He studied the young man's back for a moment.
Someone with a past connection to Damon…
His conclusion came quickly.
Probably some useless extra.
They passed through several corridors, the white-and-gold architecture repeating itself in elegant symmetry until Eric finally stopped in front of a large set of double doors.
A plaque beside the entrance read:
Auditorium A-1
Damon slowed his steps.
He glanced at the sign and then at Eric.
"Why," he asked calmly, "are we standing outside an auditorium instead of a classroom?"
Eric laughed as if the answer were obvious.
"That's because the class placement exam hasn't happened yet!" he explained enthusiastically. "All three hundred students attend the basic lectures together here for now. After the placement exam next week, everyone will be divided into their respective classes."
He puffed out his chest proudly.
"Of course, Boss will definitely be placed into Class S!"
Damon ignored the extended explanation.
Instead, he stepped forward and pushed open the door.
The moment the doors opened, the murmuring inside the auditorium collapsed.
What had been a lively mix of excited voices and restless conversation dissolved into an abrupt, almost unnatural silence.
Three hundred heads turned toward the entrance.
Three hundred pairs of eyes fixed on Damon Valecrest.
He stepped inside without hesitation.
The vast auditorium stretched before him in ascending rows, each seat occupied by students dressed in the same white-and-gold uniform. The room itself was built like a half-circle arena, with the lower stage area reserved for instructors and the seats rising gradually upward toward the back.
Damon did not slow under the sudden attention.
Children of nobles.
Future officers.
Political heirs.
Damon barely registered the expressions as he continued walking.
As his gaze swept across the room, he quickly assessed the social landscape forming inside.
Clusters had already emerged.
Groups of human students occupied several rows, young men gathered around confident-looking girls, small circles of laughter and rivalry forming naturally among them.
Elsewhere, a noticeably different presence sat together with quiet composure.
Elves.
Their posture was straighter, their expressions more reserved. Both men and women possessed the same regal calm, their sharp features illuminated by the auditorium lights as they sat in a loosely unified group, speaking little but observing everything.
In another section sat the beastmen.
Their presence was impossible to miss.
Broader frames, some with curved horns emerging from their temples, others with tails resting behind their chairs.
Their bodies carried a raw physicality—muscles built thick and dense, movements heavier, gazes sharper. Even sitting still, they radiated a wild energy that contrasted starkly with the more refined air of the elves.
Yet despite their differences, every one of them shared a common thread.
Their attention toward Damon.
And the emotions behind those stares were unmistakable.
Fear.
Disdain.
Resentment.
Some looked at him as though he were something unpleasant dragged back into the room, others looked as though they were measuring him.
Damon simply walked.
His steps echoed through the heavy silence of the auditorium floor as he moved row by row up the ascending seats.
Eventually, he reached the very last row.
Most of the seats there were empty.
Perfect.
He took a corner seat and leaned back slightly, folding his arms as he crossed one leg over the other.
A moment later, another figure dropped into the seat beside him.
Eric.
The orange-haired boy leaned toward him immediately, his eyes shining even brighter than before.
"Boss…" he whispered excitedly, barely containing himself. "This… this is the aura. Your aura manifested itself!"
Damon didn't even look at him.
Instead, he stared ahead calmly.
From the rows below, the murmurs slowly began to return.
"He—wasn't he expelled?"
"How did he come back?"
"Tch… perks of being the son of a duke, I guess."
But the whispers weren't directed solely at Damon.
Several students kept glancing toward the front row.
"Poor Lucian…"
"This always happens to commoners like us…"
Damon followed the direction of their gazes without turning his head fully.
Someone sat near the front.
Then suddenly—
A smooth, melodic voice drifted across the auditorium, effortlessly silencing the rising whispers.
"My, my… what is all this commotion?"
The voice carried amusement.
Authority.
And something else.
But before Damon could fully react, a small, frightened whisper reached his ear from beside him.
Eric had leaned closer, his voice trembling.
"W-why is that witch here?"
.