Master Sylvan Marrick was a legend among the students, though not the inspiring kind. He handled four different subjects from the Ordinary World—Math, Science, Physics, and Chemistry all by himself. Rumor had it that he was so strictly disciplined that even the bravest seniors trembled in his presence. Because he punished everyone equally, regardless of their bloodline, he faced frequent petitions from Old-Bloods demanding his dismissal. However, since the Headmistress insisted on keeping him, Master Marrick remained a formidable fixture at the academy.
"The seniors said Master Marrick isn't exactly... easygoing. They called him terrifying,"
Kai muttered, glancing down at the four thick textbooks crammed into his bag. Following Lucas's cautious advice, they had packed everything, unsure which subject would be taught first.
"He's known for being incredibly strict," Simon noted, fixing Kai with a steady gaze.
"I think we really need to be careful with how we carry ourselves."
Kai understood exactly what Simon was hinting at.
"Alright, alright! I'll keep my mouth shut this time."
"I'm just worried you'll get yourself expelled," Simon replied sincerely. Kai let out a long sigh before wrapping an arm around Simon's shoulders with a grin.
"My little friend is just too sweet, always worrying about me!"
Simon looked momentarily startled by the sudden affection, then simply shook his head with a faint smile.
They were nearing Master Marrick's classroom, located at the southernmost tip of the castle. To get there, they had to traverse a narrow hallway, just wide enough for two people to walk comfortably. As they reached the door, a wave of noise hit them—the entire room was buzzing with chatter. Since there was still no sign of Master Marrick, the students were making the most of their temporary freedom.
Unlike Master Valandor's sunlit room on the upper floors, this classroom felt dimmer, shaded by the sprawling branches of a massive tree just outside the window. It lacked the starlit ceiling of Master Iris's chamber or the lush greenery of Master Kit's office. There were no portraits of historical figures or famous scholars like those in Master Hart's room.
Inside, the layout was strikingly minimal: a teacher's desk and chair, a single blackboard, a towering Grandfather clock ticking away in the corner, and a neatly organized bookshelf. Other than those essentials and the rows of two-seater desks for the students, the room was bare. From the sheer lack of decoration, Simon could sense that Master Marrick was a man who had no interest in aesthetics or unnecessary frills.
As the two of them entered, dozens of eyes snapped toward them. Simon, feeling the suffocating weight of the collective gaze, instinctively lowered his head to avoid their stares. Kai, however, walked with his chin held high—he couldn't care less. The students were staring for two main reasons: the fact that Simon was a Blackburn, and the fact that Kai's confrontation with Oliver had already spread through the halls exactly as Jack had predicted.
From across the room, Oliver shot Kai a look of pure, unadulterated loathing before sharply turning away. Kai didn't even notice him; his focus was entirely on Jack. He was practically vibrating with anticipation, waiting for Jack to look up just so he could deliver a retaliatory glare. The moment Jack peered over his book, Kai seized the opportunity and shot him the sharpest side-eye he could muster. Jack's face crumpled in a mixture of annoyance and disbelief, and he could only shake his head and look away.
While Kai was busy with his petty silent war against Jack, Simon's attention was captured by someone else in the room.
It was Henry. Seeing him sparked a strange, indefinable sensation in Simon's chest—was it joy or something more complicated? But then, his heart gave a small, uncomfortable jolt when he noticed the golden-haired boy sitting next to Henry. Logan Vermillion. Henry wasn't alone; he was leaning his chin on his hand, quietly listening to whatever Logan was saying. He spared only a fleeting, singular glance toward Simon before turning back to his companion.
Kai picked a spot near the window, and the two of them settled in. From their vantage point, Simon could still see where Henry was sitting, though he was only treated to a view of Henry's back. As Simon found himself staring, Logan Vermillion suddenly turned his head toward them.
Their eyes met instantly.
Logan's face remained characteristically harsh, radiating an air of immense pride. His piercing blue eyes bore into Simon with a gaze that was clearly filled with disdain and loathing. The intensity of it was so suffocating that Simon, feeling deeply uncomfortable, was forced to look away. At that moment, a mocking smirk played on Logan's lips before he finally turned back toward the front.
The hour was nearly upon them. While the upperclassmen would have known to fall into a deathly silence by now, the first-years, unaware of the unspoken rules, continued their chatter. Then the heavy doors swung open, and a man entered. The sudden sound cut through the noise like a blade, bringing an instant hush to the room. But instead of a steady stride, the figure made his way inside with the help of a single crutch, moving with a pronounced limp. His jet-black hair was slicked back with military precision, and one of his eyes was concealed behind a stark black eye patch.
Despite his physical disability, his face remained as cold as ice. There was a palpable weight to his presence—an aura of absolute authority that commanded the room. The only sound remaining was the rhythmic thud-clack of his crutch against the floorboards.
The silence became so profound that even a falling pin would have sounded like a thunderclap. Every student instinctively sat up straighter, their eyes locked on the formidable figure of Master Sylvan Marrick.
Master Marrick took his seat. Up close, he looked to be in his early forties, though the silver at his temples and the dark circles under his eyes hinted at a life of exhaustion. His gaze was like ice, sending a chill through the room as he stared at the students in a heavy, unnerving silence. He pulled out a heavy ledger and began the roll call with a quill. After Logan and Kai, the name everyone had been waiting for finally echoed through the room.
"Simon Blackburn."
He didn't even spare a single glance toward Simon's direction.
"Present... Sir," Simon managed to stammer out.
The Master slammed the ledger shut with a resounding thud. He stood up and began scratching a complex math problem onto the blackboard. When he finished, he turned to the class.
"Raise your hand if you can solve this."
Jack and Susan immediately raised their hands, but the Master's lone eye bypassed them entirely, settling directly on Simon.
"Blackburn. Step forward."
Simon felt a jolt of pure panic. Jack and Susan looked back in surprise, and soon every eye in the room was fixed on him. The weight of their scrutiny felt suffocating. Trembling, he slowly rose from his seat and made his way to the front. He caught Henry's eye for a fleeting moment, but Henry simply watched him with that same, unreadable coldness.
Simon reached the board and took the chalk from the Master's hand. He stared at the equations, his mind going completely blank. Having grown up in an orphanage, he knew only the most basic arithmetic. To a boy who had never stepped foot in a formal classroom, this twelve-year-old level math was an insurmountable wall. He didn't have the slightest clue where to begin.
Simon stood before the blackboard like a stone statue, his eyes fixed on the equations while his mind remained blank. Master Marrick watched him with an icy composure, his expression unreadable. From his seat, Kai was practically vibrating with anxiety for his friend, while Jack tried to whisper the solution under his breath, hoping Simon could somehow catch the instructions through the heavy silence.
Then, a voice cut through the tension from the Daven Chamber. It was an Old-Blood student who, unaware of Master Marrick's intolerance for disruptions, decided to take a casual jab at Simon.
"Can't even solve this? I would've thought your father taught you something before he was sent to Burgundian," the boy sneered, a mocking glint in his eyes.
Muffled snickers broke out among Logan and several other Old-Bloods. Simon's grip on the chalk tightened until his knuckles turned white. The insult stung, but the helplessness felt worse. Let them call him weak, let them call him stupid—he truly didn't know the answer. Master Marrick said nothing, his lone eye remains fixed solely on Simon.
Just as Kai was about to spring from his seat in a blind rage, Simon let the chalk slip from his fingers, the soft clack echoing in the silent room.
"I... I don't know how to solve it, Sir," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
Master Marrick continued to stare at him with that same unnerving, icy composure.
"If you cannot even solve a problem as elementary as this, Mr. Blackburn, then why on earth are you even attempting to master the complexities of magic?"
Simon's head dropped, his chin almost touching his chest. The Master's words cut deeper than any physical blow. He could feel the weight of a dozen different gazes—some pitying, others mocking—pressing in on him from every side. Simon wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth. He had endured the constant scolding of Mr. and Mrs. Grabby at the orphanage, but this was different. This was a sharp, piercing pain that felt altogether new. He didn't dare lift his head.
Master Marrick scanned the rest of the class, his voice as cold as a winter gale. "If any of you cannot handle a single subject from the Ordinary World, then you have no business being at Willowgate. Leave at once!"
Then, he looked back at Simon. "Return to your seat."
Simon kept his head bowed, his face burning with a mixture of shame and frustration. He couldn't bring himself to look at Henry; he didn't want Henry to see how pathetic he felt in this moment. But as he made his way down the aisle, the Daven student who had mocked him earlier suddenly stuck out his foot.
Simon tripped, losing his balance entirely. His face collided with the hard floor with a sickening thud.
The room plunged into a suffocating silence. Because Simon hadn't been able to brace himself, his face had taken the full force of the impact against the hard floor. Dark crimson blood began to pool from his nose, staining the cold stone.
"Simon!" Kai's voice cracked as he bolted from his desk and lunged toward his friend.
Simon was hunched over, clutching his face while blood seeped through his fingers, dripping steadily onto his lap. Seeing the mess, Kai whirled around, his eyes locking onto the Daven student with murderous intent. He surged forward, fist clenched tight.
"You little piece of—!"
Before his punch could connect, several nearby students scrambled to grab him, pinning his arms back. The classroom descended into absolute chaos. Even Oliver looked on with a pale, horrified expression at the sight of the blood, and even Henry's usually mask-like face finally fractured into a look of genuine shock.
Then, a thunderous sound echoed through the room.
THWACK!
Master Marrick slammed his crutch against the edge of his desk. "EVERYONE... BACK TO YOUR SEATS. NOW!"
The other students were still too terrified to let Kai go. Toad, who had been gripping Kai's arm tightly, only slowly released his hold after hearing the Master's command. Meanwhile, the Daven student scrambled behind a girl sitting nearby, using her as a human shield while he peered out with wide, fearful eyes. Master Marrick looked at the bloodied Simon, then shifted his gaze toward Kai.
"Take him to the infirmary immediately. Madam Celavan is there."
Kai nodded without a second thought and gently helped Simon to his feet. Before leaving, he shot the Daven student one last piercing glare—a silent promise of retribution and guided Simon out of the room. In that brief moment as they headed for the door, Simon's eyes met Henry's. But Simon was so consumed by shame that he couldn't hold the gaze for more than a second. Because he looked away so quickly, he completely missed the cracks in Henry's cold facade—the flicker of genuine worry that had momentarily surfaced on his face.
The room remained in a deathly hush as Master Marrick's gaze locked onto the Daven student.
"You. Leave this room immediately. I will be submitting a formal recommendation for your expulsion to the Headmistress today."
The boy's face paled, his eyes widening in pure shock.
"You can't do this! I'm an Old-Blood! My father holds a high-ranking position in the GFOC (Great Federation of Chosens)!"
"I don't care. Get out."
The Master's voice was devoid of emotion, yet it brooked no argument. The boy stood frozen for a moment, his eyes filling with tears of frustration and fear. Realizing that his status meant nothing in this room, he gathered his things and stumbled out of the classroom, trembling with suppressed rage.
Master Marrick then turned his chilling gaze toward the rest of the class.
"I don't care what you do outside of my classroom. But as long as you are under my instruction, I will not tolerate bullying or mockery of any kind. I don't care if you are an Old-Blood or if you have golden blood—it makes no difference to me. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Sir," the students echoed in unison, their voices tight with lingering tension. Logan leaned in toward Henry, his gaze fixed on the crimson stain left on the floor.
"Look at that... Blackburn basically sacrificed himself just to get his revenge.
Quite scary, isn't it?" he whispered with a mocking, crooked smirk. Henry remained silent, merely shifting his gaze from Logan back to the bloodstain, his expression an unreadable mask of cold indifference.
Meanwhile, Jack stared at the empty doorway where Kai and Simon had disappeared. He had planned to keep his distance from Simon to avoid any unnecessary complications, but seeing him broken and bleeding like that left a bitter taste in his mouth. A wave of genuine concern washed over him, and he found himself silently hoping that Simon's injury wasn't as severe as it looked.