The morning air at the academy grounds felt deceptively calm.
Birdsong played faintly from ambient mana speakers hidden in the hedges, simulating nature in a campus mostly built on enchanted stone and controlled ecosystems. Students shuffled through the central walkway, chatter rising and falling like the tides — about assignments, mana flow calibration, gossip about yesterday's simulation test.
Kai walked among them unnoticed, the way he preferred it.
A plain black bag slung over one shoulder. Hair slightly messy, like he hadn't tried to impress anyone. Even his walk was intentionally just slow enough to seem unsure of his path, yet never aimless. Controlled.
His body was relaxed. But inside?
Coiled.
Silfa's words still sat with him like a thin blade just beneath the skin: "Your heart rate never spikes."
She was sharp. Too sharp for a girl trying to disappear.
Kai's fingers hovered over his academy-issued watch, opening his schedule again. Today was split into two parts: classroom instruction in the morning, then paired combat evaluations in the afternoon.
The academy didn't give breaks. They layered tests between smiles.
He arrived at the classroom building a few minutes early. Room 3F. Not his usual classroom — today's lesson involved temporary reassignments to gauge adaptability. A fancy way of saying: "Let's shake things up and watch who stumbles."
Inside, the class was already half full.
And sitting in the second row, looking too polished for this early hour, was Alden Vire.
The novel's original protagonist.
Kai felt the familiar dissonance—seeing a character he used to read about moving in real time. Charismatic, precise. Not flashy, but dependable. The kind of person everyone naturally gravitated toward.
Kai didn't slow as he entered. He took a back corner seat, slouched slightly, and pretended not to notice Alden's presence.
They weren't in the same class. This was a temporary overlap. He just had to be a background blur. Nothing more.
The instructor entered moments later. Not Liora. Some older mage with tired eyes and too much gold trim on his robe. He droned about magical theory, elemental synchronization, and field applications, the kind of topics Kai could follow in his sleep.
Halfway through, Alden raised his hand and answered a complicated question with perfect clarity.
The class murmured in quiet approval.
Kai didn't look up. But his peripheral vision caught Silfa.
She was in this class too.
And she was looking at him.
He exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes fixed on his notepad, scribbling nonsense to avoid attention. He hadn't interacted with her since the cave test. No direct confrontation, no words. But she was watching him.
Not with suspicion, not yet. Just curiosity. And that was worse.
When class ended, Kai waited for the room to clear before leaving. He counted his steps, timed them so that he blended into a group exiting the hall.
Silfa didn't follow.
But he knew better than to feel safe.
---
The combat arena was humming by early afternoon. Hexagonal platforms floated above a conjured canyon, pulsing with containment runes to suppress magic overflow. Spectators watched from a glass balcony above. Teachers too.
Paired combat tests. Simulated duels. The academy claimed it was about technique, but everyone knew it was about ranking — making students show their limits.
Or try to hide them.
Kai's name appeared on the pairing screen.
Kai Drenhaven vs. Yurell Bastien.
He remembered the name — a wind-type magic user, aggressive, from Class D. Known for fast movement and wide-area pressure attacks.
Not ideal.
Kai stepped onto the platform, sword sheathed at his side. He hadn't drawn it since the goblin trial. It still felt foreign in his hand, but he kept it for appearances. No one needed to know it was decoration.
Yurell grinned across from him. His hair was dyed electric blue, probably to match his affinity. "You look slow."
Kai smiled faintly. "I am."
"Good. I hate chasing."
The instructor raised a hand from the sidelines. "Match start in three…"
Kai relaxed his shoulders.
"…two…"
He adjusted his footing, eyes half-lidded.
"…one."
A sharp clang echoed, and Yurell was already moving — wind swirling around his legs, propelling him forward like a missile.
Time fractured.
Kai didn't stop it.
Not yet.
He sidestepped, barely out of range, letting the wind blade skim past his sleeve. He staggered purposefully, playing into the role of someone just lucky enough to survive.
Yurell didn't slow. He spun into a sweeping strike, trying to force Kai into the air.
Another dodge. This one tighter. Delayed.
Kai felt his watch vibrate — the academy was tracking movement metrics. If he moved too well, too fast, it would get flagged.
So he stumbled again, almost falling.
Yurell laughed. "You're like a leaf."
"Thanks," Kai muttered.
Then Yurell raised both hands and shouted, "Gale Spiral!"
Mana surged.
A dome of compressed wind formed around the arena's center — a containment field that would launch anyone inside into the air and rip their footing away. It was excessive. Showy.
And perfect.
Kai took one breath.
And stopped time.
The world turned still. The swirling wind froze in mid-motion, droplets of sweat suspended in the air, the audience frozen in various expressions of surprise.
He walked calmly through the gale field, each step measured.
Drew his blade.
And placed the edge against Yurell's throat.
Then backed away, resheathed it, and returned to the same spot he had just been in — but with his left foot slightly off balance.
Time resumed.
The gale collapsed — and Yurell flinched, the aftershock disrupting his own footing.
The audience saw a blur. A stumble. Nothing unusual.
Only the instructor frowned slightly.
Then raised his hand. "Match over."
Everyone paused.
"The victor… Kai Drenhaven."
A few confused murmurs broke out. Even Yurell looked surprised.
Kai just blinked, wiping fake sweat from his brow. "Didn't expect that."
He exited the platform before anyone could ask more.
---
Hours later, Instructor Liora reviewed the combat footage. Again.
Her eyes were locked on a half-second frame: the moment Kai disappeared from Yurell's field and reappeared off-angle.
No teleport flash. No wind backlash. No spell cue.
Just… nothing.
She rewound it three times.
Then opened the system logs. No mana spike. No enchantment used.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Impossible," she murmured.
Yet, as the screen replayed the moment, over and over — she began to suspect.
Time magic?
No. That was forbidden. Restricted to high-class royal agents and archmages. It would be absurd for a student.
Unless he wasn't just a student.
She tapped her screen and flagged Kai's file.
Observation Level Raised: D-Class Anomaly, Potential Time Distortion Affinity. Pending Review.
---
Kai sat on the dormitory roof that night, legs dangling over the edge. The artificial moonlight cast long shadows across the stone tiles.
He sipped lukewarm tea from a thermos and watched the stars.
No one knew yet. Not really.
But the net was tightening.
Silfa was curious.
Liora was suspicious.
And he had no allies.
No mentor.
Just time.
But time, he reminded himself, could be the sharpest blade if used right.