The entrance examination had ended, yet the official admission letters had not arrived. The academy had announced that the results would be delivered within a few days.
Rush chose not to wait idly.
Instead, he walked toward the outskirts of the city—to the highest cliff overlooking Prasta. The Edge of Khaos. From there, the entire capital stretched beneath the sky like a sleeping giant, rooftops layered upon rooftops, temple spires piercing the horizon, morning mist clinging to the lower districts.
He arrived before dawn. The wind was cold at that height, sharp enough to sting the skin. When the first ray of sunlight broke over the horizon, it washed the city in molten gold. Rooftops shimmered. Rivers caught the light and gleamed like flowing fire.
Rush stood still, watching.
For a moment, the warmth brushing his face reminded him of his mother's gentle smile… Liz's stubborn affection… and his father's quiet, unwavering discipline. His fingers tightened slightly against the railing before relaxing again.
A sudden gust of wind swept across the cliff.
Rush turned.
Descending from the sky was a creature shaped like an eagle—its body formed entirely of condensed mana, translucent yet radiant. Its wings shimmered as if woven from light itself. The construct landed silently before him, an envelope sealed with the royal insignia clutched in its beak.
The eagle released it.
Before the envelope fully settled into his palm, the construct dissolved into strands of blue mana and vanished into the air.
Rush examined the seal briefly before breaking it open. Inside was a single parchment.
Admission confirmed.
Reporting date listed.
No unnecessary words.
He folded the letter carefully and slipped it inside his coat. The sunrise had ended. A new chapter had begun. Without another glance at the horizon, Rush turned and walked back toward the city.
The Royal Academy of Atherland did not care about bloodlines once the iron gates closed.
This was the first lesson every new student learned upon receiving their room key. The Academy operated under strict regulations. All students—regardless of status—were required to reside within the dormitories. Even the princess.
The following morning, Rush arrived at the academy gates with his admission letter in hand. The campus was vast—stone pathways lined with trimmed lawns, towering academic halls carved with ancient mana scripts, and training grounds that echoed faintly with distant spellcasting. Students and carriages arrived in steady streams, servants unloading luggage while young nobles carried themselves with practiced pride.
There were three dormitory buildings—one for each academic year. Rush made his way to the first-year dormitory and located his assigned room.
Room No. 216.
Rush stepped inside and closed the door. True to the instincts beaten into him at Castle Hart, he didn't unpack immediately.
His gaze swept across the ceiling corners, the window latch, the mana lantern's core, and the space beneath the bed. Only after ensuring the room was undisturbed did he allow himself to move further in.
The room was spacious—a large bed against the far wall, an oak desk near the window with a mana lantern mounted above it, a polished wardrobe, and a wide window overlooking the eastern training grounds.
He placed his bag down and unpacked with quiet efficiency. Clothes folded precisely. Personal items arranged neatly. Weapons stored discreetly. By the time he finished, the room already felt less foreign.
Evening bells echoed through the dormitory corridors, followed by a magical announcement calling all first-year students to assemble in the dining hall for meal.
Rush changed into his crisp Academy uniform and stepped toward the door.
As he stepped out into the quiet stone corridor, the door next to his—Room 217—swung wide open.
A boy with messy brown hair marched out, his eyes entirely glued to a thick, leather-bound book on alchemy. He was muttering rapidly about "ether-root stabilization" and "mercury yields," completely oblivious to his surroundings.
He was on a direct collision course with Rush.
Rush didn't flinch or brace for impact. His body simply reacted. A fluid, silent pivot on his heel, shifting his weight just enough to clear the path.
The boy walked right through the empty space Rush had occupied a fraction of a second prior, the displaced air fluttering the edge of the boy's blazer. The boy stopped abruptly, his foot faltering as he realized he had just walked past someone he hadn't seen. He blinked, looking up from his book, and spun around.
"Oh! Apologies," the boy said, eyes widening slightly as he registered the effortless dodge. He didn't seem embarrassed, just intensely curious. He tapped the cover of his book. "I was completely lost in a solvent equation. Slavic Petrova, Room 217. You're Rush, right?
"Yes," Rush said simply.
Before Slavic could continue talking, the heavy oak door directly across the hall—Room 215—clicked open.
A tall boy with jet-black hair stepped out. He wore the academy uniform with immaculate precision, a long, curved katana secured at his hip. This was Ethan Takahashi. He hailed from a family of low-ranking nobles who managed a small, quiet estate in the northeast of Atherland. Used to being overlooked by the grander houses, Ethan preferred to keep to himself, observing rather than speaking.
Ethan turned to lock his door, his dark eyes casually sweeping the hallway before landing on Rush and Slavic. He paused, recognizing Rush from the practical exam, but his face remained a mask of calm indifference.
Slavic, true to his nature, didn't let the silence linger for even a second.
"Ah, our other neighbor!" Slavic said brightly, closing his alchemy book and pointing a stained finger toward Ethan. "Ethan, isn't it? I'm Slavic, and this is Rush. Since we're all standing here, shall we head down to the Dining Hall? I've been trying to map out the fastest route from this wing, but the architecture is unnecessarily complex."
Ethan didn't say a word. He simply gave a slight, noncommittal shrug and started walking down the corridor.
Rush gave a faint exhale and followed.
"Excellent," Slavic smiled, falling into step beside them. "I read they serve roasted griffin on the first night. Though, nutritionally speaking, standard beef would be far more efficient for mana recovery..."
Slavic took the lead, talking a mile a minute about dietary alchemy and the structural flaws of the dormitory stairs. Ethan walked in silence on the left, keeping his thoughts entirely to himself. Rush walked on the right, his hands in his pockets, listening to Slavic ramble.
It wasn't a grand alliance. They were just three strangers who happened to live on the same floor, heading to dinner.
The First-Year Dining Hall was a cavernous, architectural marvel.
Enchanted crystal chandeliers hovered in the air, casting a warm, golden light over dozens of oak tables. The smell of freshly baked bread, roasted meats, and rich spices filled the massive room. Students clustered by familiarity—noble houses gathering around their own, others trying to find a place where they belonged.
Rush, Slavic, and Ethan collected their trays and joined the line. There was chatter everywhere—comparisons of exam ranks, subtle boasting, quiet insecurity masked as confidence.
They chose a table near the center. Slavic began speaking between bites, already theorizing about academy alchemy labs and possible research facilities. Ethan mostly listened, offering short replies when necessary.
Rush's attention drifted.
At the far edge of the hall sat a girl alone. Messy brown hair. Round spectacles. Her posture small, almost folded inward.
Nia Whispers—a commoner.
The empty distance around her table was deliberate. The nobles were keeping their distance.
Rush's gaze lingered for a brief moment before he stood.
"You finished already?" Slavic asked.
"It's a bit noisy here," Rush replied evenly.
Ethan glanced up. His dark eyes followed Rush's line of sight, landing on the isolated girl in the back corner. Ethan didn't ask questions. He merely watched as Rush turned and walked away.
Rush picked up his tray and navigated toward the edge of the hall.
Nia kept her head down, eating carefully. A shadow fell across her table, and she stiffened immediately, bracing for a harsh word.
"I-I'm movin—"
A pristine tray settled gently onto the table opposite hers.
"Hi. I'm Jennifer. May I sit here?"
Nia froze, looking up at the silver-blonde girl. "Y-Your Highness…"
"Just Jennifer," she corrected softly. She pulled out the chair and sat down, offering the terrified girl a warm, genuine smile. "The girls' dormitory was entirely too loud. And my room is right next to yours, isn't it? Nia, was it?"
Nia nodded frantically, her face pale. "Y-Yes."
Rush arrived a heartbeat later and placed his tray down beside Jennifer's.
"Mind if I join?" he asked.
Nia looked completely startled. "I— no. That's fine."
Jennifer glanced at him briefly, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "You were heading here anyway."
"Yes," Rush replied simply. He sat down across from them.
For a few seconds, none of them spoke. The dining hall was noisy, students talking loudly, chairs scraping, cutlery clinking. But their table felt quieter somehow.
Nia kept her eyes on her food, overwhelmed.
Jennifer broke the silence first. "So," she said lightly, "first day."
"Yes."
"Excited?"
Rush considered it. "Curious."
"That sounds like you," she said.
He looked at her. "And you?"
"I've been waiting for this for years," she admitted, then shrugged slightly. "It would be disappointing if it turned out boring."
Nia hesitated before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think it will be."
Both of them looked at her.
She immediately looked nervous again. "I mean… the academy has a reputation. The training, the professors…"
"It won't be boring," Rush said calmly.
Jennifer gave a small nod. "Good. I'd rather not waste a year."
Another short pause followed.
Nia finally gathered a bit of courage. "You both did well in the exam."
"You did too," Jennifer said.
Nia blinked behind her glasses. "You remember?"
"I try to," Jennifer replied casually.
Rush added, "You were calm during the practical."
Nia's fingers tightened slightly around her spoon. "I was terrified."
"It didn't show," Rush said.
That seemed to surprise her. For the first time since they sat down, Nia lifted her head properly and looked at both of them.
The noise of the hall continued around them, but their table felt less distant now.
Jennifer rested her elbow lightly on the table. "Well, since we're all in the same dorm… we'll probably see each other often."
"Yes," Rush said.
Nia nodded quietly.
They headed to their rooms shortly after finishing their meal, stepping into the first night of their new lives.