The afternoon sun hung over the Slatemark Academy like a heavy golden coin, casting long and elegant shadows across the manicured grass of the central gardens. Beneath the sprawling canopy of a silver-leafed willow, Julius Slatemark reclined on a marble bench with his legs crossed at the ankles. A small group of younger students lingered a few paces away, clutching their leather-bound books and casting frequent, hopeful glances toward the willow. They didn't approach immediately, anchored by a mix of respect and the sheer weight of the Prince's reputation, but Julius didn't leave them waiting in the silence.
"Caspian, I heard your mother's recovery went well," Julius said, closing his book and offering a smile that was bright enough to match the sunlight. He looked directly at a nervous first-year boy at the back of the group. "I hope the healers in the capital provided the specific sun-salt I recommended."
The boy, Caspian, practically beamed as he stepped forward, his shoulders losing their tension. "She's walking again, Your Highness. The salts worked exactly as you said they would. I didn't think you'd remember me mentioning it."
"It's hard to forget something that important," Julius replied, his voice smooth and carrying a genuine warmth. He shifted on the bench, making a subtle amount of room as if inviting them closer without needing to say a word. "Now, what's the consensus on the afternoon lecture? Did Master Vane manage to make the history of mana-currents interesting, or are we all still collectively confused?"
A ripple of light laughter broke the remaining ice. The students moved closer, drawn into his orbit by the effortless way he turned the conversation toward them. He moved with a poise that was rare for a thirteen-year-old, yet he kept a playful glint in his red eyes that reminded them he was still their peer.
As they spoke, Julius reached out toward a Moon-fire Lily growing near the edge of the bench. The plant was notorious for its stubbornness, its petals tightly furled against the midday heat. He didn't use a spell-circle or perform any visible calculations. Instead, he simply looked at the space around the flower.
"Most people try to force the star-nodes to drink the mana," Julius noted, his hand hovering inches from the lily. "They treat the world like a source to be drained."
He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. The air around his palm seemed to shimmer, not with the light of a spell, but with a sudden, localized clarity. To the students watching, it looked as though the very dust motes in the air were being sieved away. Julius used his intent to pull in the raw, chaotic ambient mana, stripping the "grit" and impurities from the energy before it even touched his skin. He didn't calculate the pressure; he simply willed the mana to be pure. The refined energy, now as clear as liquid glass, flowed into the lily. The flower shivered and then unfurled, its silver petals opening in a perfect, unnatural bloom under the hot sun.
"That's incredible," Leo, a fifteen-year-old student, whispered as he watched the flower. "I spent all morning trying to purify enough ambient mana just to stabilize my third star, and I ended up with a headache and half a lungful of grit. You didn't even look like you were trying."
Julius let out a soft, genuine laugh, patting Leo on the arm. "You're trying to win a wrestling match with the atmosphere, Leo. Stop fighting the mana. If your intent is clear enough, the impurities have no choice but to fall away. It's a sieve, not a hammer. Think of it as inviting the light in rather than dragging it through the door."
Leo nodded, his expression shifting from frustration to a quiet, thoughtful resolve. Julius watched the boy's face, noting the exact moment the advice took hold. He felt a familiar, glassy satisfaction at the success of the interaction. It was the right thing to say, delivered at the right moment, with the exact amount of encouragement needed. Yet, behind the warmth of his smile, his internal stars rotated in a silent, perfect vacuum. The praise and the wonder of his peers felt distant, like a play he was watching from the best seat in the house.
The arrival of Lady Isabella broke his focus as the scent of jasmine drifted through the silver leaves. The crowd of students parted instinctively, offering respectful bows as she approached. Isabella was also thirteen, her blonde hair caught in a simple braid that draped over her shoulder, and her violet eyes were fixed on the blooming lily with an amused glint.
"I see you're playing gardener again, Julius," Isabella said, her voice carrying a sharp, intelligent edge. "The professors are wondering if you plan on attending the evening seminar, or if the flora of the academy has become your primary concern."
Julius stood up to greet her, his red eyes brightening. "Isabella. I was under the impression that the seminar was on the structural limits of 2nd Star wards. I thought we'd already determined those limits were more of a suggestion than a rule."
Isabella sat on the bench he had just vacated, her presence matching his own in a way that signaled they were the only two people in the garden on the same level. "For us, perhaps. But the rest of the kingdom still relies on those suggestions. I spent the morning in the archives looking into the Namgung family. Their records finally arrived from the eastern border."
"The Eastern Continent," Julius said, his tone shifting into one of quiet analysis. "The Meridian System is a fascinating technical bottleneck. They've refined the Body Aspect into something terrifyingly efficient to survive the demon incursions, but they've completely lost the infrastructure for the Mind Aspect. It is a system built for impact, not for the art we practice here."
"It sounds so heavy," Isabella said, looking at her own hands. "To have stars but no way to cast a complex spell or weave a mental ward. They're effectively locked into their own flesh."
"They don't have the luxury of choice," Julius noted, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Our system is versatile because we have the peace to make it so. We can cultivate the Mind and the Body in harmony because we aren't fighting for our lives every single night. The Slatemark Kingdom is built on that luck."
Isabella watched him, her violet eyes narrowing. "You say that as if the lack of friction bothers you. Most people would call this paradise."
"It is paradise," Julius replied, and the smile he gave her was perfectly practiced. "I was just thinking that we are very fortunate to live in a world that allows for both power and beauty. We have the better path, Isabella. There's no doubt about that."
He looked out over the garden as the sun began to set, painting the white marble of the academy in liquid gold. Isabella was beside him, the students were still lingering nearby, and the three stars in his chest were perfectly still, purified to a density that few in the kingdom could even comprehend. He loved the Star System. He loved the peace. He loved the way the world responded to his touch.
He was the golden prince of a golden world, and as far as he knew, there was nothing left to be solved.