"Louis seems to have such a diligent personality."
Elena watched his back as he left the classroom, his pace brisk, his expression calm but focused. He didn't even look back, as if something important was waiting for him.
She let out a small sigh.
She had planned to take things easy today—to rest a little, maybe explore the academy grounds. But it looked like Louis had other plans.
"That's too bad…" she murmured softly.
He was the first person she had spoken to since arriving at the academy. She'd been thinking about asking him to look around the campus together—just as friends—but when she heard he was going to train, she couldn't bring herself to interrupt.
It would feel rude to disturb someone so earnest. Especially when they barely knew each other.
'I don't really want to wander around alone, though…'
Her eyes drifted to the empty desks around her. The other students had already left, their chatter fading down the hallway until the classroom felt far too quiet.
She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, hesitating.
"Should I just go back for today…?" she whispered to herself.
Elena wasn't used to this kind of environment. Back home, she had always been surrounded by family and servants—people who treated her kindly, even delicately. Talking to peers her own age, let alone approaching them first, was completely new to her.
Even speaking to Louis earlier had taken more courage than she'd expected.
Now, with no one left to talk to and no reason to stay, she let out a small breath and stood from her seat.
"Alright… I'll head back, then."
Her voice was almost swallowed by the silence.
Gathering her things, she walked toward the door and stepped into the bright hallway, the soft echo of her footsteps following behind.
Originally, this was the moment when Elena was meant to run into a small incident while exploring the academy with Louis.
But because of his decision—because he chose to train instead—
the story quietly began to change.
*****
After leaving the classroom, I headed straight for the gym.
My destination—the special training room.
Normally, that place would be packed with students sparring or showing off their techniques. But today? I was certain it would be quiet. Perfect.
After all, what I planned to do wasn't something I wanted anyone else to see.
The farther I walked, the thinner the crowds became. The noise of chatter and footsteps faded, replaced by the faint hum of mana lamps along the corridor.
Yeah, just as I thought.
No one in their right mind would come to train on a day like this. Most students were probably taking a well-earned break or out exploring the city. Only the truly obsessed—or the desperate—would spend their free time sweating in the gym.
The thought made me smirk a little.
The gym loomed ahead, its wide doors slightly ajar. As I stepped inside, the familiar scent of metal, wood, and sweat filled the air.
It was massive—large enough to rival an auditorium. Normally, it would echo with the clash of swords or the crackle of spells during duels and mock battles. But right now, it was silent. Completely empty.
Just as I'd hoped.
I made my way across the polished floor toward the back, where the special training rooms were located. These were soundproof, reinforced with barrier magic—perfect for people who didn't want witnesses.
I reached for the handle of the first room and slid the door open—
—and froze.
"…Huh?"
There were people inside.
Two of them.
The steady sound of swords slicing through the air filled the room. Sparks of mana flared faintly with each swing.
I blinked, taken aback.
I'd been so sure no one would be here.
Then my gaze focused on one of the figures, his silver hair glinting faintly under the light.
My lips parted in surprise.
"Edmond…?"
Of all people.
It was him.
The protagonist himself—Edmond.
Edmund was swinging his sword with fierce determination, his body drenched in sweat.
I couldn't help but frown as I watched him from a distance.
Handsome.
Talented.
And even hardworking?
Seriously, what kind of person like that actually exists?
Oh right—he's the protagonist of a webtoon.
I sighed quietly. "Of course he's like that. He's supposed to be perfect."
My gaze drifted to the side.
There was someone training next to him.
A woman.
Her face looked familiar, and it didn't take long for me to remember her name.
'Clarice… right?'
Her bright red hair swayed with each swing of her sword. Unlike Edmund's steady and precise movements, hers looked… off.
It wasn't that she lacked strength or speed—she clearly trained her body well. But there was something strange about the way she moved.
'Her rhythm's weird…'
That's what it was.
Her swings didn't connect naturally. It was like watching a song played off-beat. The sword stopped and started, her stance breaking for just a second each time she moved.
Even I, who'd only been learning swordsmanship for a short while, could tell something was wrong.
Edmund's form flowed smoothly, every motion perfectly measured, like he was born with a sword in his hand.
But Clarice… her movements stuttered—almost hesitant.
It was as if her body wasn't used to the motion at all.
After watching her for a few minutes, I finally understood.
'She's physically awkward.'
There was no other explanation.
Her posture was fine, her grip solid, her strength more than enough. But every time she swung the sword, that subtle awkwardness showed—like she was fighting her own body.
A swordsman who's physically awkward.
I'd never imagined such a combination before.
I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "Weird…"
Why does someone who clearly knows the basics move like that?
Could it be nerves? An injury? Or…
My eyes narrowed slightly.
'Something doesn't add up.'
And as I stood there watching the two of them—Edmund, the perfect protagonist, and Clarice, the awkward swordswoman—I couldn't shake off the feeling that something about this scene was… off.
It's very suspicious indeed.
But why did she choose the sword?
Judging by her stance, she's definitely not someone who's picked up a blade just once or twice. Her movements aren't that of a beginner. Which means… she's been training for a while.
That alone was strange.
Most nobles, unless they come from families obsessed with swordsmanship or are born with natural talent, tend to study magic from an early age. It's practically a tradition.
If I hadn't known that Louis possessed talent for the sword, I would've chosen magic myself without a second thought.
But looking at her now, I can't help but wonder.
No matter how I see it, she doesn't look like someone with a gift for swordsmanship.
Actually, forget swordsmanship—does she even have proper control over her body? Her posture, her grip, even her breathing… all of it feels slightly off.
If that's the case, wouldn't it have been better for her to study magic instead?
So why?
Why is she stubbornly holding onto a sword that doesn't seem to suit her at all?
And what's with those training clothes? They don't match her in the slightest.
"…Well, it's not my business."
I let out a quiet sigh, shaking my head to clear away the unnecessary thoughts. There's no point dwelling on someone else's choices. Everyone has their reasons, even if they don't make sense to me.
Now wasn't the time to get distracted.
I turned and headed toward the farthest training room, away from everyone else. The room was empty and quiet, exactly what I needed.
After stepping inside, I pressed the button on the wall, and the blinds slowly lowered, sealing off any view from outside.
Perfect. No one could see in now.
Reaching into my pocket, I carefully took out a small object.
The Orb of Dreams.
Except—
Instead of its usual transparent shimmer, it was glowing faintly yellow.
That… wasn't normal.
I frowned, holding it up to the light.
"Why are you shining like this?" I murmured under my breath.
Whatever was happening, I needed to find out.
From now on, I'd be focusing on this.
The Orb of Dreams was about to reveal something—and I had a feeling it wouldn't be ordinary.