The academy grounds had already come alive under the morning light, students moving along the pathways in small groups, some discussing lessons with animated expressions while others hurried toward their respective classes, the soft hum of conversation blending with the distant sounds of training and instruction that echoed faintly across the vast campus.
Amidst all of it, Damon walked alone.
His steps were steady.
But his thoughts were not.
The poison used on that woman was not deadly…
His gaze remained forward, unfocused on the surroundings as his mind continued to piece things together.
But what was used on me was.
A faint tension settled into his jaw.
So their objective was clear…
Not to abduct me… not to torture me…
But to kill me.
The realization sat heavy.
I've become careless…
His fingers tightened slightly at his side.
How did I not think there might be poison on the dagger…
A quiet breath left him.
If that pink fluffy hadn't been there…
He didn't finish the thought.
Instead, another surfaced.
That woman has already recovered…
That confirmed it.
The maid had only been immobilized.
He had been the real target.
By the time Damon reached the administrative building, his expression had already settled into its usual calm, though the sharpness in his eyes had deepened, carrying a quiet resolve beneath the surface.
He stopped in front of the door.
"Knock!", "Knock!"
A moment passed.
"Come in."
The voice came from within, composed and steady.
Damon opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him as his gaze fell upon the figure seated behind the desk.
"Dean."
Adrielle Storme looked up from the documents in front of her, adjusting her glasses slightly as her eyes settled on him, her expression calm but observant.
"I don't seem to recall calling you here, Student Damon."
Damon didn't circle around the matter.
"I got attacked last night in my dorm."
The shift was immediate.
The atmosphere in the room tightened subtly as the dean's focus sharpened, her posture straightening just slightly as her full attention moved onto him.
Damon reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded cloth, placing it on the desk before opening it carefully to reveal two thin needles resting inside, their surfaces faintly reflecting the light.
"My maid was struck with one of these," he said evenly, "and I was targeted with the other after I caught the assassin in my grasp… before it escaped."
Adrielle's gaze moved to the needles.
Then returned to Damon.
"....Sit down."
Damon remained seated and briefly recounted the incident, summarizing the events of the previous night with calm precision, mentioning the attack, the assassin's escape, and the use of two different poisons, without dwelling on unnecessary detail, while across from him, Dean Adrielle Storme listened in silence, her gaze steady and thoughtful as she processed his words.
As he spoke, Damon watched her closely, not just waiting for a response but studying the subtle shifts in her expression, even as his own thoughts moved beneath the surface with quiet clarity.
I had two options.
The first was to inform the Duke…
A faint, cold realization followed.
…but I can already imagine his response.
"If you can't even handle one assassin… there's no need for you to live."
His expression didn't change.
The second… was this.
A brief silence settled between them once he finished, the weight of the matter lingering in the air before the dean finally spoke, her voice composed yet firm.
"I will handle this matter."
Damon nodded once and began to rise from his seat, but before he could take a step, her voice came again, halting him just as he turned.
"You should have informed the receptionist of your dorm," she said evenly, her fingers resting lightly against the desk, "he would have handled it from there."
Damon stopped, his posture still as he replied without hesitation.
"I don't want this matter to spread and alert the assassin."
The dean regarded him for a moment before continuing in the same calm tone.
"Then you could have simply remained quiet about it."
Damon turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting hers, and for a brief second his mind flickered elsewhere, fragments of past exchanges surfacing uninvited.
"You should go back to the duchy. It's dangerous."
"n-No, I won't."
"Don't you understand how dangerous it is—"
"Then it's dangerous for you as well—"
"If-If you force m-me to go back… I'll tell Master you slept with me—"
The echoes faded as quickly as they came.
Damon's voice followed, steady and deliberate.
"I don't live alone now, do I?"
The meaning was clear without needing to be spelled out..
Wasn't it you who allowed me to have only one attendant…
And the dean let out a soft, almost amused laugh at that, her eyes glinting faintly as she leaned back slightly in her chair.
"It seems you don't want the assassin to attack again… and yet you want them to attack again."
Damon turned fully this time, his hand already on the door as he answered without looking back.
"Oh… I definitely want them to take the chance again."
He paused for just a fraction of a second, then added in the same calm tone,
"By the way… I didn't know you could laugh."
Without waiting for a response, he opened the door and walked out.
The moment Damon left the room and the door clicked shut behind him, the quiet space did not remain empty for long, as several faintly glowing spheres of different colors began to materialize one by one around Adrielle, drifting lazily in the air as though they had always been present, merely choosing now to reveal themselves.
A burst of laughter broke the stillness.
"Hhahahahaahha… that boy is quite something…"
Another voice followed, calmer, more measured.
"You seem to have taken a liking to him."
Adrielle did not respond immediately, her gaze lingering on the closed door for a brief moment before she reached up and removed her glasses, placing them gently on the desk as her expression settled back into its usual composed calm.
"Not liking," she said at last, her voice quiet but clear, "it's just… refreshing to be treated as normal."
The faint glow of the spheres shifted subtly, as if acknowledging the statement, before the room fell back into a quieter rhythm once more.
***
By the time Damon stepped back into the main academic corridors, the usual flow of students had already resumed, conversations filling the air as classes moved from one session to another, yet he paid little attention to any of it as he made his way straight toward Class S without delay.
The rest of the day passed without anything particularly noteworthy, as the main instructors did not conduct any special lectures, leaving the sessions to assistant professors who covered foundational concepts and routine material, their voices blending into the background for Damon, who listened only enough to not fall behind, his mind occupied elsewhere.
And the moment the final session ended—
He didn't stay.
Without engaging in idle conversation or lingering like the others, Damon stood up, gathered his things, and exited the classroom almost immediately, his steps carrying him into the corridors with quiet urgency.
"Today is the first day of emotion control guidance from Professor Elowen…"
The words left him in a low mutter as he walked, his pace gradually increasing.
A faint focus settled into his eyes.
Actually… I'm looking forward to it.
The thought came without hesitation.
More than anything… I need to learn how to control the effects of this resonance.
Damon arrived in front of the door and raised his hand to knock, a faint, almost dry thought passing through his mind as his knuckles tapped against the surface.
I really am knocking on a lot of doors today…
A moment later, the door opened on its own.
He stepped inside.
And the door shut behind him with a soft click.
The change was immediate.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, his body lifted off the ground without warning, an invisible force pulling him upward as his balance vanished entirely, and before he could even react, the air around him thinned—no, it disappeared—leaving his lungs grasping at nothing as his breath caught in his throat.
His hand shot up instinctively to clutch his neck.
But it stopped.
Both of his arms froze where they were, as though something unseen had seized control of them, refusing to let him move even an inch, while the pressure around him shifted again, pressing inward as his vision blurred slightly and a burning sensation spread across his eyes, forcing them shut as though submerged in water.
His body trembled.
His chest heaved—
But no air came.
His legs kicked faintly, searching for ground that no longer existed beneath him, the instinct to survive clawing its way through his system as his senses screamed all at once.
Then—
Through the suffocating haze—
He saw her.
Standing ahead, completely at ease.
A woman with royal blue hair tied loosely into a low ponytail that draped over her shoulder, her posture relaxed as she held a cup of tea, taking a slow sip as if the scene unfolding before her was nothing more than a casual observation.
Miss Elowen.
Watching him ,smiling carelessly.
Damon's eyes snapped open despite the burning sensation, his pupils sharpening as something fierce ignited within them, cutting through the suffocation, through the restraint, through the overwhelming pressure pressing against him.
This woman—
Is she trying to kill me…?!
The thought surged through him, raw and furious, as every instinct in his body screamed in defiance.