Kael knew that look the look of someone running from something they couldn't control. He'd worn it himself not long ago. He gave Rhys a nod of understanding. "Don't worry about it," he said, then gestured to the rest of the empty chairs at the table. "Everyone, please, sit."
The group settled in. Rhys, looking relieved, took the seat next to Kael, while Jacob and Silas sat across from them.
Just as they were getting comfortable, Draven entered the cafeteria. After getting his breakfast, his eyes scanned the room and immediately found the group. A flush of embarrassment crept up his neck as the memory of his dream from the night before surfaced, vivid and intense. But the embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by a bright, undeniable light that ignited in his eyes at the sight of Silas.
He headed straight for them. Kael, ever the welcoming host, pointed to the empty seat beside Silas. Draven took it without hesitation.
Silas merely glanced at him for a single, fleeting second before turning his full attention back to his espresso. In the morning, his energy was a finite resource, and he had none to spare for social pleasantries. He simply ignored everyone.
Draven's brow furrowed in concern. "Are you okay, Silas?" he asked, his voice low.
Silas gave a slight nod in response, not bothering to look up. "I just don't have any energy in the morning," he said, his voice flat. "I was sick a lot as a kid. I only got better a few days ago, and now I'm here. Maybe I need an energy drink or something."
From across the table, Rhys sneered. "You need rest, you dimwit!"
Draven didn't know who this newcomer was, but the tone , a unique blend of sharp insult and deep-seated care told him everything he needed to know. He could feel the years of history between them. He looked at Silas, waiting for an explanation.
Silas finally looked up from his cup. "He is Rhys, my best friend from childhood," he said, gesturing with his head. "And this is Jacob, a new friend I made here at the academy."
Draven nodded politely to both of them. The moment his gaze fell on them, however, both Rhys and Jacob stiffened. They knew exactly who Draven was, and the sheer presence of the legendary swordsman sent an involuntary shiver down their spines.
After breakfast, a plan was quickly formed. Kael, ever practical, took charge of the two newest arrivals. "Alright, you two," he said to Rhys and Jacob, "come with me. We need to get your identity tokens from the registration office."
That left Draven with Silas. A silent understanding passed between them, and Silas prepared to go with him. The group of five stood up, ready to head out, but they were immediately met with the palpable atmosphere of the cafeteria. The low buzz of conversation had shifted, and it was now centered entirely on their table. Whispers and pointed stares followed them. It wasn't every day that two of the academy's most renowned instructors spent their morning with three unknown freshmen. The air was thick with a mixture of admiration, envy, and for some, the bitter agony of jealousy.
But just as they were about to step away from the table, something strange happened.
"Wait a moment," Draven said, his voice calm but firm, cutting through the ambient noise.
The others paused, turning to him. In a move that sent a wave of shock through the entire cafeteria, Draven gracefully lowered himself to the ground, resting his weight on one knee.
His eyes were fixed on Silas's feet. One of the laces on Silas's worn leather boots had come undone, the loose ends trailing on the floor. It was a small detail, something Silas himself hadn't even noticed.
Before Silas could process what was happening, let alone protest, Draven acted. He gently took hold of Silas's foot, lifted it, and rested the boot firmly on his other knee. Then, with practiced and deliberate fingers, he began to tie the shoelace.
The cafeteria, which had been buzzing with gossip just a second before, fell into a stunned, absolute silence.
The last knot was barely tightened when a sudden, forceful shove to his chest sent Silas stumbling backward. The world tilted, and he would have crashed to the floor if Rhys hadn't instantly sprung forward, catching him by the shoulders and steadying him with a firm grip.
Silas straightened up, shock and confusion clouding his features as he turned to face his attacker. A surge of cold fury washed over Draven, his body tensing to strike the person who had dared to lay a hand on Silas. But he froze.
Standing before them was a girl, her face a mask of rage. Her hair was pulled back in a severe, high ponytail, and her impeccably tailored uniform screamed nobility. This was Baroness Cassia Arkwright, the famously sharp-tongued daughter of Count Arkwright, a girl who carried a title of her own without any land to govern.
Her venomous gaze was fixed solely on Silas.
"How dare you!" she snapped, her voice cutting through the silence of the cafeteria. She pointed an accusing finger at him.
"How dare you let Instructor Draven tie your shoe, you filthy commoner!"
The insult hung in the air. Silas, finally processing the rapid chain of events the lace, the push, the accusation opened his mouth to respond, but he never got the chance. In a single, fluid motion, Draven stepped in front of him, shielding Silas completely from the furious baroness.
Draven's voice was like ice. "It is none of your business, Cassia," he snapped, his words sharp and cold. "It is my own choice whose shoes I fix."
Cassia's enraged expression crumbled. She looked as if he'd slapped her. She had always admired Draven, captivated by his good looks and unmatched talent, but now he was looking at her as if she were a complete stranger, all for the sake of a commoner.
Silas stepped out from behind Draven, his own gaze unfriendly. "I didn't ask him to do anything," he said, his voice steady. "He did it on his own. I hadn't even processed what was happening before you pushed me." He knew she was a second-year student, a Level 15 mage, while he was just a Level 1 freshman, but he didn't care.
She let out a short, mocking laugh. "So what if he did it on his own? Don't you think you should have stopped him? And who are you to ask anything of me? I am a baroness. My father is Count Arkwright. You dare expect an apology?"
A shadow fell over Silas's face. Rhys placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, and Silas gave him a brief look before the hand was removed. He then turned his cold eyes back to Cassia. "I already told you, if I had processed what was happening, I would have stopped him. But as for your apology, I want it right now. Or else..."
Cassia was baffled. What could a Level 1 possibly have to rely on that gave him the confidence to threaten her? "Or else what?" she demanded loudly.
Silas answered nonchalantly, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Or else I'll challenge you to a duel. The prize is an apology. Whoever loses has to apologize while kneeling on the ground."
The girl looked at him as if he were insane. A Level 1 challenging a Level 15? It was a joke. "I accept!" she said immediately, a cruel smile spreading across her face.
Draven moved to stop him, but Kael put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head slightly, a silent command not to interfere. Draven clenched his fists, his jaw tight, and watched the scene unfold with cold fury.
"Then attack," Silas said with a pleasant smile. "What are you waiting for? For me to attack first?"
Flushed with embarrassment and rage, Cassia didn't hesitate. Five shimmering balls of water magic materialized in front of her. With a scream, she launched them at Silas, intending to overwhelm him completely.
But what she expected to happen never did. Silas moved with the speed of the wind, vanishing from his spot and reappearing a few feet away. No one saw how he did it, except for Kael. A flicker of intense interest lit up his eyes, which widened in surprise. "A space element user," he murmured under his breath.
Before Cassia could react, Silas conjured a crackling bolt of deep blue lightning in his hand and slapped it toward her. The attack hit her squarely. She screamed in pain and surprise as she was thrown backward, collapsing onto the floor.
After a few seconds, she staggered back to her feet. Her pristine hair was burned and messy, her expensive uniform covered in dust. She looked like a fool. The entire cafeteria was now buzzing, students whispering in disbelief about how a Level 1 had just defeated a Level 15 mage.
She gritted her teeth in humiliation. Silas's voice cut through her rage, dripping with sarcasm. "Don't you think you should apologize now? Or does the Arkwright family not have enough shame to keep their promises?"
Through clenched teeth, Cassia slowly forced the words out. "I am sorry... for hitting you. But this isn't the end. I will tell my father about this. He will take action himself."
"Let him come to me," Silas said, completely unfazed. "I'll be waiting to see how he plans to punish me."
Cassia shot one last, hate-filled look at Draven, then turned and left the cafeteria with a stiff, furious stride.
The moment she was gone, Draven rushed to Silas's side. "Are you okay, Silas?" he asked, his hand hovering near his arm, ready to support him.
Silas sighed as he looked at Draven. He hadn't expected the man to lower himself to tie his shoelace. A sudden, unexpected warmth spread through his chest. He simply nodded and said he was fine.
The five of them then walked out, leaving behind a cafeteria that had completely forgotten about breakfast, now consumed with the incredible story of the freshman who had taken down a second-year noble in a matter of seconds.