Ruach's POV
Two hours after my conversation with the headmaster, I find myself lying on my dormitory floor, staring up at the ceiling. It only took half an hour to unpack and arrange my belongings, yet somehow my mind drifted back to her words the moment I was done.
I had felt insulted—judged, dismissed, as if she had reduced me to a single flawed idea of who I was. Who was she to assume anything about me? To speak so bluntly? To mock me, even if subtly?
But… the more I thought about it, the harder it became to deny that she wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps I had grown prideful while hiding behind the belief that being strong meant showing no weakness. Perhaps I wasn't as "great" or "dignified" as I wanted to believe. Maybe in pursuing glory, prestige, and the restoration of my family's name, I had slipped into arrogance—too blinded by what I wanted to face the truth: that I feared failing, feared admitting that I was not yet good enough.
I came to this academy to learn, to improve, to earn the strength and connections I need to return the Ruach name to its former honor. If that is truly my purpose, then something has to change—and that change begins with my pride. I need to be more open. Less rigid. Less certain that I already know who I am and what I can do. Only then can I hear what I need to learn.
The grandmaster told me to rely on others more, to trust, to stop carrying everything alone. But how am I supposed to trust people I've only just met? Weapon masters who see my family as enemies. Mages who assume the worst of me simply because of my last name. Am I expected to rely on people who greet me with suspicion? To befriend those who judge me before knowing me?
I don't want to tie myself to people who are prejudiced and dismissive.
For a moment, I considered setting aside her advice until I built a reputation strong enough to overshadow their assumptions. But no—that would only be another form of running away, another excuse to hide behind.
I must at least try.
She didn't tell me to trust everyone, only to be open to it. To choose wisely, to allow the possibility instead of shutting it out. That, I can do.
And if I am to start anywhere… then the First Dinner is as good a battlefield as any to begin searching for people I can eventually call allies—perhaps even friends.
As I stood up from the floor, I instinctively looked at the clock on the shelf that was above my bed.
"Oh shit, I'm gonna be late."
*Moments Later in Front of the Big Dining Hall Doors
I arrived late to the First Dinner. I had been so deep in thought that I completely lost track of time, only realizing I had spent two hours in self-reflection when I finally checked the clock. As I opened the doors to the Meal Hall, all I could hope was that my tardiness wouldn't ruin my chances of finding allies.
But the moment I stepped inside, that hope vanished.
The grand, majestic hall was in shambles—tables overturned, food scattered across the floor, chairs broken and flung aside. Students were fighting everywhere. Two professors lay unconscious on the ground, and the rest—including the grandmaster—were nowhere to be seen. They must have left for this chaos to escalate this far.
One group of students wore black armbands, wielding makeshift weapons carved from shattered chair legs. Their eyes glowed with a faint, unnatural tint—something subtle enough that most people would miss it. Opposing them were students with red armbands, hurling different forms of magic in retaliation. Injuries marked both sides.
It didn't take long to understand: a full clash between weapon masters and mages had broken out.
Though weapon masters were technically my family's enemies, I had no intention of joining the fight. This was Valthera Academy. Fighting here was against every rule, and the grandmaster—absent or not—would punish them all heavily. I had no desire to be among them.
I turned to leave.
Then the air behind me shifted sharply.
My instincts reacted before I could think.
"Air Shield."
A wooden club stopped inches from the back of my head, halted by the invisible barrier.
"Sir weapon master," I said, forcing a polite smile, trying to appear both unthreatening and dangerous at once. "I do not wish to battle. I only want to return to my quarters. Please use your talents elsewhere."
"Nah."
"Very well. This was your choice. Disarmed Push."
His weapon flew out of his hand, and an invisible force threw him back several feet, knocking him out as he hit the ground. I had handled him with a simple Trainee-level spell and a Novice-level follow-up—nothing more. I wasn't about to waste precious mana on a fight I wanted no part in.
But before I could step away, another attacker came from the side—this time a woman. I hadn't sensed her at all, even though air is one of my specialized elements. The blow struck my arm and knocked me back.
She was dangerous—likely at my level, or even a bit above.
"I—" I tried to counter, but she rushed forward, forcing me on the defensive.
"Air Shield!"
"Air Shield!"
"Air Shield!"
"Air Shield!"
Over and over, I cast it, blocking strikes from her club, her legs, her fists. I was being pushed into a corner, and at this rate, I would lose. I refused to stain the Ruach name by being defeated, but I lacked real experience fighting weapon masters. I needed a plan.
Before I could form one, her eyes changed—brighter than before.
Then—crack.
My shield shattered.
Her club slammed into my body, throwing me across the floor. I rolled, hit the ground hard, and forced myself back to my feet. She was already advancing, eyes glowing, blocking any possible escape. I felt a spike of fear. My defenses weren't going to hold.
In that instant, with my opponent closing in, I saw my dream, my purpose, everything I was fighting for. And something inside me refused to yield.
Instead of retreating, I charged forward.
She swung. Before she could build momentum, I thrust my right hand out. The club smashed into my palm, pain shooting through my arm, but I tightened my grip and trapped it.
"Quicksand!"
She tried to kick, to strike, to hit my head, but I blocked her with my left arm—each blow stinging, but I held on.
"Shock Wave!"
An invisible force blasted outward from my chest. She flew back several feet and hit the ground hard, unconscious.
I wanted to celebrate, but exhaustion crashed over me. My whole body ached. Around me, the hall was still chaos, students fighting with no signs of stopping. A few weapon masters rushed to carry my opponent away—clearly someone important, given the urgency.
Her strength made sense.
I didn't care. I was too tired.
I once again tried to leave and fortunately no one noticed me and tried to challenge me this time.
I made it to my room, closed the door behind me, and let my battered body drop onto the bed without another thought.
END OF CHAPTER