I made it back to the academy a bit out of breath. Running through half the capital had turned out to be a pretty good workout.
…And he was still there.
That old man.
The weak-looking one with white hair who seemed like he'd collapse if a strong breeze hit him.
I tried to sneak past quietly, hoping he wouldn't notice me.
"Hey, kid."
I flinched. Caught.
I turned slowly. "...You sure you're not the headmaster or something? You can sense people through magic?"
The old man's brows rose slightly. "You… noticed the magic?"
"Well, yeah. I could feel something under my feet. Isn't that normal?"
'Sensing magic? Interesting… this kid just keeps getting more intriguing,' the old man thought, rubbing his chin.
"So… you are the headmaster?"
"Hah? No, no," he waved dismissively, snapping back to reality. "I'm just another instructor. Name's Orc Candisari."
"Orc?" I stared at him. "No offense, but your body really doesn't match your name, old man."
"Oi! I used to be ripped, alright?! Back in my prime I made knights cry just by flexing!"
He coughed and straightened up. "Ahem… what's your name, kid?"
"Ren… Anyway, can I go now? My bag's getting heavier by the second."
"I didn't stop you for any reason, just wanted to see you suffer a bit. Hahaha."
What kind of personality was that? I scowled and left him behind, heading toward my dorm.
The dorms were bigger than I expected.
"…Whoa. This door alone probably costs more than my old house."
I touched the smooth wood. "What kind of tree is this even from?"
It looked like I really was next to the other top-ranked students. Probably Akito, Iris, Elysian,and the Sage. Lucky me.
I opened the door.
"…Seriously? It's this fancy?!."
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. Right… remember what Master said.
"Ren, luxury is temporary. Never let it bind you."
Sage advice from a woman who once carried three bottles of high-end wine gifted by a merchant we saved.
I shook my head and began unpacking.
Inside the closet, I found multiple sets of academy uniforms—clearly prepared just in case I destroyed my first one. Which, to be fair, was a possibility.
I sat on the bed.
It was stupidly soft.
"…Alright. I could get used to this."
Knock, knock.
"Hold on!" I groaned as I rolled off the bed and dragged myself to the door.
When I opened it—
"...You're at the wrong room."
The Sage stood there, blinking sleepily, her black hair a wild mess. She looked left. Then right.
I barely had time to react.
Something grabbed my arm—not harsh, but intentional. A surge of power lifted me off the ground. My feet dangled midair for a moment before the force flung me backward—not hard enough to injure, but rough enough to bruise my pride.
The door slammed in my face with a clean, unapologetic thud.
I stared at it, blinking. Once. Twice.
"...She seriously just kicked me out of my own room?"
For a second, I didn't know whether to laugh or curse. So, I did both—under my breath.
Muttering to myself, I reached for the door again. No resistance this time. The magic had faded.
Inside—
The Sage.
Curled up on my bed, wrapped snugly in my blanket. Her black hair spilled across the pillow like ink, careless and beautiful.
She was pretending to be asleep. Badly.
I stepped closer, my footsteps deliberately heavy. My gaze narrowed.
Without a word, I leaned down, scooped her up over my shoulder.
"Wha—?!"
No real struggle. Just a tiny yelp.
"Tch..."
I carried her across the hallway like a sack of flour and dumped her onto a spare bed in the central room. Not rough, but definitely not gentle.
The moment I left, the Sage sat up.
"...Insensitive bastard," she muttered, brushing her messy hair back with trembling fingers.
"I even changed... just to match his type." Her voice was calm. Too calm. Like ice about to crack.
"Calm personality. Lazy demeanor."
She clutched the blanket tighter, her crimson eyes flashing with frustration.
"I even grew out my hair..."
Her voice faltered—raw, almost breaking.
"So why..."
A whisper now. Fragile. Broken.
"Why doesn't he recognize me at all?"
"I even grew out my hair..."
Her crimson eyes glinted with frustration as she clenched the blanket over her chest.
"So why..." her voice cracked, barely audible.
"Why doesn't he recognize me at all?!"
— Flashback — POV Aetheria Nume (Sage)
I was fourteen.
A child cloaked in the illusion of strength, praised for talent I barely understood. They called me prodigy. Sage. Hero-to-be. Words heavy with hope—too heavy for the shoulders of a girl still learning how to stand alone.
The forest that day smelled of dew and blood.
We were a scouting party. I remember thinking the sunlight that filtered through the trees felt kind. Safe.
I was wrong.
The orcs came like a storm—feral, deliberate. Too many. Too fast.
We were not soldiers. Not really. Just hopefuls carrying names too grand.
I fought.
With everything I had.
My spells danced in the air—ice sharp as glass, light bright enough to blind. Even flame, though it singed more than it saved.
But magic cannot replace experience. And courage does not stop a club swung with hatred.
When the blow landed, I heard it more than felt it.
The crack of bone beneath barrier.
My shoulder screamed. My vision blurred.
Then—silence.
Then—him.
A figure. Small, slight, masked. Moving like poetry written in the language of blades.
He struck with precision. There was no wasted motion, no sound but the hum of metal through flesh.
And a voice.
A woman's, gentle but firm, carried by magic or memory. She guided him. He obeyed.
I wanted to ask who they were.
I wanted to say thank you.
But my eyes closed before words could form
When I woke, I was somewhere warm. Wooden walls. The scent of herbs. Bandages wrapped my arms and shoulder.
"Hey, you're awake?"
A boy's voice. Soft, ordinary. Yet something about it pulled me back fully.
He walked toward me, ointment in hand.
"You're in my master's cabin. We found you unconscious. The orcs... they were cursed. Demonic sigils on their bodies. Someone wanted you dead."
He touched the salve to my cheek, and I flinched—not from pain, but from unfamiliar kindness.
I tried to stay still. Brave. But I felt the warmth crawl to my face.
"…Thank you," I said.
He placed the jar on the table, then sat beside me.
"So who are you really?"
"Aetheria Nume. Sage candidate." I hesitated. "They say I'm the next hero."
He blinked once. Then smiled—not with awe, but something far simpler.
"Hero, huh? Makes sense. Demigods attract trouble."
"You're not surprised?"
"A little." A pause. Then, "I'm Ren."
That name—Ren—it felt soft when he said it. Like he didn't need anything more.
His smile...
It didn't shine like the sun.
It warmed like the morning.
Without warning, he rose to his feet and lifted me in his arms. Like a knight from a fairytale. Like I weighed nothing at all.
"Wh-what are you doing?" I asked, heat creeping to my cheeks.
His gaze was steady. Unwavering. "I'm taking you to the capital. Safely."
With those words, he turned, carrying me toward the door.
The moonlight spilled over his shoulders as he ran—through wind, through quiet trees, beneath a sky that seemed to watch in silence. My pulse echoed with each step he took, too loud in my ears.
"You're calmer than I expected," he said after a while. His voice was low. Almost fond. "Girls like you… I kind of like them."
My breath caught.
I turned my face away, trying to hide the warmth blooming in my cheeks. But I could feel it—my composure slipping. Even then, I didn't speak.
The medicine began to blur the edges of my vision. My eyelids grew heavier with each second.
And just before sleep took me, I heard him whisper—
"If she had long hair… she'd be my type."
— Ren Pov — Back to Present
As I walked away from the room, I heard a sudden shriek echo behind me.
"Ahhhhh, that smile of his keeps replaying in my head!!"
I froze mid-step.
…What the hell?
I looked back, staring blankly at the closed door.
That was definitely the Sage. What was she screaming about? A smile? My smile?
Nope. Not dealing with that today.
I turned my head and kept walking like a man who didn't just hear something dangerously suspicious. The hallway was quiet, lit with soft mana-lamps embedded into the walls. I swore I could still feel the faint tingling of that ridiculous float spell on my back.
'But Honestly, she Familiar, Is she the girl i save that night?, nahh there was more than one candidate for Sage, not.... Hmmm.... What her name again?'
FYI: Sage have only one candidate
then My stomach growled.
I hadn't eaten anything since morning, and the scent wafting from the academy's cafeteria was starting to drive me insane. I headed there without hesitation.
The cafeteria was as extravagant as I remembered—elegant chandeliers, marble floors, and long tables filled with students. It looked more like a noble's banquet hall than a school facility. I spotted a few familiar faces right away.
Akito was talking to Iris. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but the way Iris answered—awkwardly, without meeting his eyes—was telling enough. I didn't interfere. Not my business.
I grabbed a tray, picked up some food, and headed toward a table at the edge of the room. Quiet. Away from them.
But peace, of course, never lasts long around here.
"Hey, Rank 5. Ren, right?"
A tall upperclassman approached me. Muscular build. Scars on his arms. Not the kind of guy who used a sword. Probably relied on brute force and his fists.
"What do you want?" I replied calmly, shoving a spoonful of food into my mouth. Shit. Is this the part where I get bullied?
The upperclassman grinned. "Interested in joining our club? Adventurer's Club."
I nearly choked.
People were starting to glance our way, curious. Even Iris turned her head, brows slightly furrowed.
"My bad. That was rude of me." He straightened up. "Name's Balmut. Vice-leader of the club."
"...Why me?" I asked, still chewing. "They're Rank 1 and 2." I motioned toward Akito and Iris.
Balmut leaned closer, lowering his voice. "I know you've hunted monsters before."
My spoon froze halfway to my mouth.
"Where did you hear that?"
"Our leader has their sources. So, interested?"
I stared at him for a few seconds. Then shook my head.
"It's still too early for me to join any clubs."
Balmut exhaled, then smiled again. "Fair enough. Here." He handed me a brochure. "If you change your mind, swing by."
He turned and walked away.
But just as I resumed eating, someone else approached.
"Was he threatening you?"
I choked.
Coughing hard, I slapped my chest until I could breathe again. "Hah... hah..."
"You okay, Ren?" Iris' voice was soft, eyes wide with concern. Her golden irises shimmered under the cafeteria lights—genuine worry in them. Not the fake kind.
"...I'm fine," I said, brushing it off as I stood.
Without another word, I left the table.
—POV—Akito
There she is.
Iris.
The main heroine of my favorite otome game. And now... she's real. I'm not watching her from a screen anymore. I'm here, in the game world I've known for years. And she's sitting right there—gently stirring her food, her Silver hair swaying slightly as she looks lost in thought.
Perfect.
I walk toward her with a calm but calculated pace. No rush. I've played this route enough times to know what to do.
"Hey, Iris," I say, my voice smooth, respectful.
She flinches a little, startled. "H-Hello...? Who are you?" Her voice is soft, a little distant.
"My name is Akito." I bow slightly, just like a gentleman would. Polished. Refined. The kind of introduction a proper male lead gives in any romance story. "Would it be alright if I sit here?"
"...Sure, go ahead."
Alright. Step one: complete.
I start with small talk. Basic things. Favorite food. Class schedules. Magic lessons. Her answers are short, reserved. She's still in her 'introvert early-game phase'. That's fine. I can be patient.
But then—he walks in.
Ren.
Iris glances at him, and suddenly her eyes light up just a little. Her posture shifts. Her voice perks up.
My hand tightens around my spoon.
Why? Why him? He's just some NPC—some background character. He's not even one of the target love interests.
"Huff... huff..." I mutter under my breath, keeping my smile forced. Iris... let me touch your hair... huff... huff... but no, I mustn't rush...
No, no. I can't mess this up. Not after everything. Not after I finally got inside the game.
Ren may have caught her eye for now, but I have the knowledge. I have the strategies. I know everything about this world.
This is my story.
I will build my harem.
And I will win—just like I always did.There she was.
Iris.
The main heroine of Akito's favorite otome game. And now… she was real. No longer a collection of pixels behind a screen—she was sitting just a few steps away, quietly stirring her food, her silver hair swaying as she seemed lost in thought.
Perfect.
Akito approached with a calm, measured stride. No need to rush. He had played this route more times than he could count; he knew exactly how to proceed.
"Hey, Iris," he said, voice smooth and respectful.
She flinched slightly, surprised. "H-Hello...? Who are you?" Her voice was soft—distant, even.
"My name is Akito," he replied, offering a polite bow. Controlled. Polished. The kind of entrance a proper male lead made in any romance scenario. "Would it be alright if I sit here?"
"…Sure, go ahead."
Good. Step one: complete.
He opened with small talk—safe topics. Favorite foods. Class schedules. Her impressions of the academy. She responded briefly, guarded. She was still in her 'introvert early-game phase'. That was fine. He could be patient.
But then—he walked in.
Ren.
Iris glanced at him. Her expression subtly shifted. There was a glimmer in her eyes. Her posture straightened. Her tone lifted.
Akito's fingers tightened around his spoon.
Why? Why him? Just some background character. Not a target. Not even important.
A low mutter escaped his throat. "Huff… huff…"
He forced a smile to stay in place.
Control yourself.
He couldn't rush this. Not now. Not after everything it took to get here. Not after everything he sacrificed just to enter this world.
Ren may have drawn her attention—for now—but Akito had the advantage. The knowledge. The strategies. He knew how this world worked.
This was his story.
He would build his harem.
And he would win—just like he always did.