Chapter 11 – Reflection of the Past
A full week had passed since the beginning of classes.
Kim Suho sat in the back rows as usual, his back straight yet uninterested, his eyes fixed on the massive screen displaying a lesson on post-Change world history.
His mind wasn't fully present; the words passed before him the way clouds drift across a sky no one bothers to look at.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the lecture.
Students began to move. Voices rose—laughter, discussions, small dreams spoken aloud by children life had not yet touched.
Suho finally lifted his gaze.
His eyes fell on a young man sitting not far from him.
Blond hair.
Eyes somewhere between green and blue.
Calm features carrying a natural dignity that wasn't forced.
Reinhardt von Hildras.
Suho thought silently:
This guy…
His character seems good.
Humble—unusual for someone from the elite.
His level is impressive for a Spiritualist.
The Hildras family…
A heavy name in this world.
A family that had produced Spiritualists since the very beginning of the world's Change.
Talent, influence, history.
Even before the Change, they had been a massive commercial family with deep roots in the British government.
Alright…
Not bad.
A good person.
Beside him sat a girl.
Soft pink hair.
Blue eyes like a spring sky.
Shy movements, a gentle voice—the type who wouldn't raise her voice even if she were right.
Emily von Rosenfeld.
The Rosenfeld family…
An ancient magical lineage, known for support and defensive magic rather than flashy displays.
She was…
Reinhardt's fiancée.
Those two…
They truly stood out.
Not just because of their names, but because of the purity of their presence.
On the other side was a large-built boy, brown-haired, loud-voiced, his movements energetic like a spark that never calmed.
Kevin Myers.
From a relatively young American family,
Known for body-enhancement arts, boxing, and fist-based techniques.
Suho formed a faint smile, barely noticeable.
And there are others… many of them.
I didn't notice them.
And I didn't want to.
The history class ended.
Sparring Class – The True Beginning
The sparring and combat arts class began—
the first practical lesson of the year.
The students moved to the training ground, a wide area of polished stone surrounded by low stands.
A familiar man stood before them.
A stern face.
Piercing, evaluative eyes.
Mr. Lucas.
The same supervisor from the entrance test.
Lucas:
Welcome.
Today… no tests. No evaluations.
He paused briefly.
Lucas:
Sparring matches.
For introductions…
and to build connections.
The duels began at random.
Student versus student.
Laughter, excitement, quick defeats.
Time passed.
Then Lucas spoke again:
Lucas:
Next match…
Lin Shuang-Yu.
A girl stepped onto the field.
Hair white as untouched snow.
Cold blue eyes.
Straight hair styled in the Murim fashion—simple, yet elegant.
A beautiful face…
A quiet, cold beauty, like a flawless shard of ice.
Whispers spread among the students, hearts racing.
But Suho…
did not react.
Lucas called the second name.
Lucas:
Aileen Windsor-Valerie.
The whispers exploded.
Student:
She's from the royal family!
Another:
She's beautiful, isn't she?
I wish she'd look at me just once!
Suho lifted his gaze in irritation…
as usual.
Then—
he saw her.
Dark blonde hair tied in a simple ponytail.
Short strands at the back.
Loose, modest trousers.
Silk gloves covering her hands.
And a classic British sabre—elegant, perfectly balanced.
She walked with steady steps…
no arrogance,
no fear.
He watched…
without interest.
Until she turned her face.
—
Time stopped.
Suho's eyes widened to their limit, as if an invisible blow had pierced his chest.
This…
was impossible.
His face went pale.
She…
She looks like her.
Tears flowed without permission.
A deep, ancient sorrow—sleeping at the bottom of his soul—suddenly awakened.
No…
She really does… look like her.
Conflicting emotions flooded his heart.
Dull grief,
and a fleeting admiration…
from a single glance.
Aileen noticed him from the platform.
Their eyes met for a fraction of a second.
Then…
she quickly looked away.
As for him…
he sank.
Lowered his head,
looked at the ground,
and cried in silence.
Memories unknown to others…
pain that had never been spoken.
Her eyes carried a hint of redness,
yet within them was a glimmer of life—
a light whose flame had not gone out.
She was beautiful…
polite…
refined.
He repeated inside himself once more, in a broken voice:
She looks like her…
truly.
And the duel between the two girls began.
—
End of Chapter
Term Definition – Spiritualists
Spiritualists:
A special class of prana users—the sacred energy.
They excel in healing,
reaching levels comparable to healers and priests.
But what truly sets them apart…
is their overwhelming physical capability,
and their ability to reinforce their bodies with pure prana,
just as mana users do—
but with greater purity…
and far superior stability.