Dawn arrived quietly, slipping through the tall windows of the dormitory like a polite guest who knew better than to knock. Pale gold light brushed against the stone walls, climbed over shelves and books, and finally reached my face—persistent enough to pull me from sleep, but gentle enough that I didn't resent it.
I groaned softly and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling for a long moment.
"So… morning already," I muttered.
My body felt unusually light. Not energized—just… stable. Ever since the trials beneath the Red Devil Forest, my sleep had grown deeper, calmer, as if my mind had finally accepted that this world was no longer foreign. Or perhaps it had decided that worrying was inefficient.
I stretched lazily, arms extending until my joints popped one by one. Mana flowed naturally through my limbs, responding like a well-trained servant. No resistance. No turbulence. Good.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stood and made my way to the washroom. Cold water splashed against my face, chasing away the last remnants of sleep. I ran my fingers through my hair, watching dark strands fall back into their usual unruly state.
When I finally looked up into the mirror, I paused.
Red eyes stared back at me—sharp, clear, unsettlingly calm.
"…Still handsome," I said after a second, nodding in approval.
A faint smirk tugged at my lips. "Truly tragic how perfection like this is wasted on a battlefield."
Yes. Narcissism was healthy. Probably.
I dressed carefully, fastening my uniform with practiced ease, adjusting my collar until it sat just right. Presentation mattered. Not because I cared what others thought—but because I disliked giving people excuses to underestimate or overestimate me.
Once satisfied, I stepped out of the dormitory and headed toward the training grounds.
The academy was already awake. Students hurried along stone paths, their conversations buzzing with excitement and speculation. Today marked the beginning of the special training sessions—reserved only for the ten selected representatives of the Inter-Academy Tournament.
An honor.
And a headache.
As I walked, my thoughts drifted naturally toward the mystery everyone was obsessing over.
The instructor.
An SS-ranker.
There were only five in our nation.
Principal Alexa von Veldora, obviously excluded—she enjoyed control too much to babysit students directly.
Sarah's father. Edwin's father. Both terrifying in different ways.
And then there was Liam von Ravel—the elusive one. Rarely seen. Often rumored. Usually involved in things people weren't supposed to know about.
Whoever it was, I already knew one thing for certain.
They would be annoying.
SS-rankers had a habit of seeing too much. Of looking too closely. Of poking at places that were none of their business.
Thankfully, Astra's Suppression pulsed quietly beneath my skin, dull and absolute. Even if they sensed something was off, they wouldn't be able to see what truly mattered.
That thought settled my nerves.
I reached the training ground a little later than intended—and immediately confirmed my suspicion.
Everyone was already there.
Ten students stood gathered near the center of the vast field, their postures varying from confident to restless. Edwin noticed me instantly.
Of course he did.
"Alden!" he called out, waving with far too much enthusiasm. "You're late! I was starting to think you overslept and missed the first day!"
I sighed internally and walked over anyway.
"You talk too much in the morning," I replied flatly.
"That's cruel," Edwin said, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. "Here I am, worried about my teammate, and this is how you treat me?"
"I was enjoying the silence," I said. "You ruined it."
He laughed, completely unbothered, and leaned closer. "Nervous about today?"
"No."
"Excited?"
"No."
"Scared?"
I glanced at him sideways. "Do you want to test that theory?"
Edwin grinned. "See? That's the spirit."
I resisted the urge to punch him—barely.
Instead, I let my gaze drift past him.
Alicia stood a short distance away, posture straight, expression serene. Sarah was beside her, animated as always, talking with rapid gestures and an energy that could exhaust most people just by proximity.
Alicia listened quietly, nodding occasionally.
Nothing unusual.
And yet—when she sensed my gaze, she looked over.
For just a moment, her expression softened. Her eyes lost their usual sharpness, replaced by something fleeting and unreadable.
Then she looked away.
Guilt.
The realization struck me with a faint jolt.
"…Huh," I murmured under my breath.
I frowned slightly, unsure why that bothered me more than it should. We hadn't spoken much since the interrupted evening. There were unfinished words between us—but guilt?
I didn't understand it.
Before I could think further, Sarah tugged on Alicia's sleeve, dragging her attention back into the conversation. Alicia complied, though her posture stiffened subtly.
I shook my head and refocused forward.
The training ground itself was massive—far larger than what ordinary students were allowed to use. Reinforced stone platforms, layered mana barriers, and engraved runes hinted at the fact that whatever training awaited us would not be gentle.
The air felt… tense.
Not because of danger—but anticipation.
Minutes passed.
Then—
The temperature dropped.
Not drastically. Just enough for everyone to feel it.
A heavy presence descended upon the field like an invisible curtain being drawn.
Every conversation died instantly.
Footsteps echoed.
Slow. Measured. Unhurried.
A man walked onto the training ground from the far end.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in a dark, formal coat that bore no academy insignia. His hair was silver-streaked black, tied neatly behind his head, and his eyes—
His eyes were sharp.
Not wild like a berserker's.
Not oppressive like a tyrant's.
They were evaluating.
The kind of gaze that stripped layers away and judged what remained.
I felt it settle on me.
Just for a second.
And then linger.
"…Trouble," I muttered internally.
The man stopped a few paces in front of us and surveyed the group in silence. No aura release. No intimidation.
That made it worse.
"Good morning," he said at last, voice calm and deep. "I will be overseeing your special training."
His gaze shifted—subtle, precise—and landed on Alicia.
Her posture changed instantly. Not fear. Not surprise.
Respect.
"Father," she said quietly.
Ah.
That explained it.
I blinked once.
Then sighed.
"So this is how it's going to be."
The man's lips curved ever so slightly before his eyes returned to me.
He took a step closer.
Then another.
Until he stood directly in front of me.
Too close.
Uncomfortably so.
He looked me up and down slowly, methodically—like a craftsman inspecting flawed material.
"…Interesting," he said.
I met his gaze without flinching.
"Can I help you, sir?" I asked politely.
Edwin shifted beside me, sensing danger. Sarah stiffened. Alicia's fingers curled slightly at her side.
The man smiled.
A thin, dangerous smile.
"No," he replied. "But I will be watching you closely."
I felt it then.
Not hostility.
Not killing intent.
Something worse.
Assessment.
The kind reserved for potential threats—or potential sons-in-law.
I had absolutely no idea.
And that, perhaps, was the most dangerous part of all.