The next morning, King woke up to find a crowd outside his dorm.
Well, he didn't actually wake up—he'd been lying in bed for six hours, listening to the city and wondering if sleep would ever happen. But when dawn came and he sat up, Marcus was at the window looking alarmed.
"We have a problem," Marcus said.
King joined him at the window. At least fifty students stood in the courtyard below, all staring up at Tower Four.
"What are they doing?" King asked.
"Waiting for you," Nero said from his bed. He hadn't gotten up yet. "Some want to challenge you. Others want to befriend you. A few probably want to study you like a science experiment."
"That's a lot of people," King observed.
"You beat an A-Rank," Dante said, pulling on his boots. "Using their Unique Talent. While eating an apple. What did you expect?"
"I thought people would forget about it," King said.
All three of his roommates stared at him.
"You thought," Marcus said slowly, "that people would forget about an F-Rank defeating an A-Rank in a public duel watched by thousands?"
"It was just one fight," King said.
"You're hopeless," Nero said, finally sitting up. "Completely, wonderfully hopeless."
---
A knock on the door. Marcus opened it cautiously.
Instructor Gray stood there, looking more tired than usual. "Candidate Von Deluxh. Director wants to see you. Now."
"Again?" King asked.
"Yes, again. Because you keep doing things that require explanations." Gray glanced at the crowd below. "Use the back exit. Unless you want to deal with all of them."
King followed Gray through corridors he hadn't seen before—servants' passages, mostly empty. They emerged near the administration building.
Director Wise was in her office, surrounded by even more papers than last time. She looked up when King entered.
"Sit," she said.
King sat.
"You defeated Julian Frost," the Director said. "An A-Rank student with a Unique Talent. You did this while exhibiting no measurable mana expenditure, no visible technique, and somehow remaining completely unaffected by Absolute Zero temperatures."
"Yes," King said.
"The report from Instructor Vera says, and I quote, 'Candidate Von Deluxh walked through a physics-defying ice domain while eating a snack. I have no explanation. Please send help.'"
"I was hungry," King said.
Director Wise pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're either the most talented student we've ever enrolled or the most elaborate hoax in academy history. I'm still deciding which."
"I'm just a student," King said.
"No. You're not." The Director leaned forward. "A student struggles. Learns. Fails sometimes. You don't do any of that. You just... exist at a level that makes everyone else look inadequate."
King didn't know what to say to that.
"I'm not expelling you," Director Wise continued. "Yet. But I am placing new restrictions. No more public duels unless I personally approve them. No more demonstrations of strength. No more incidents that make my instructors write panicked reports."
"I'll try," King said.
"Try harder." She waved him toward the door. "Classes start in twenty minutes. Don't be late."
---
King made it to his first class—Magical Theory again—with five minutes to spare. Professor Aldric was writing equations on a floating chalkboard.
"Ah, Mr. Von Deluxh," the professor said cheerfully. "I've prepared a special sphere for you today. Reinforced. Triple-shielded. Blessed by a priest. Please try not to destroy this one."
The class laughed nervously.
King took his seat next to Marcus. "Is he serious?"
"Very serious," Marcus whispered. "He spent all night preparing that sphere. I heard him telling another professor about it."
When the measurement exercise came, King approached the new sphere carefully. It was larger than the others, covered in protective runes, and humming with contained power.
"Just channel a tiny bit," Professor Aldric said. "The smallest amount you can manage."
King touched the sphere.
He thought about the absolute minimum of power. Less than a whisper. Less than a breath. The smallest fragment of his existence.
The sphere glowed softly. Warmly. A gentle golden light that filled the room.
"Perfect!" Professor Aldric clapped his hands. "See? When you're gentle, it works! The reading says..." He squinted at the sphere. "Hmm. Still can't get an exact number, but at least it's not exploding. Progress!"
King returned to his seat. Marcus gave him a thumbs up.
"You did it," Marcus whispered. "You didn't break something."
"I'm learning," King said.
The rest of class passed normally. Professor Aldric lectured about mana theory, students took notes, everything was peaceful.
Then lunch came.
---
The cafeteria was more crowded than usual. King and his roommates claimed their corner table, but this time people didn't avoid them.
A group of three students approached—all wearing C-Rank badges.
"King Von Deluxh?" the leader said. A girl with short red hair and determined eyes.
"Yes?" King said.
"I'm Sarah. Sarah Crimson. I lead a combat training group." She pulled up a chair without asking. "I want you to join us."
"Why?" King asked.
"Because you're strong. Really strong. And we're trying to form a team for the inter-academy tournament next month." Sarah leaned forward. "Having you on our team would guarantee victory."
"I don't know anything about tournaments," King said.
"You don't need to. You just need to stand there and catch things. That seems to be your specialty."
Dante cleared his throat. "He's already got a team. Us."
Sarah looked at Marcus, Nero, and Dante. "No offense, but you're F-Rank, C-Rank, and B-Rank. My team is all B-Rank minimum. We have synergy, training, strategy."
"We have friendship," Marcus said.
"Friendship doesn't win tournaments," Sarah said. "Power does."
"Then we'll get stronger," Dante said flatly. "Together."
Sarah sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to steal your friend. I'm offering an opportunity. King could move up ranks faster with proper support. Join us, and he'd be A-Rank by semester's end."
"I don't care about ranks," King said.
Sarah blinked. "What?"
"Ranks. I don't care about them." King looked at his roommates. "I care about people. These people chose to be with me when everyone else thought I was just a failure. I'm not leaving them."
The table went quiet.
Sarah studied King's face, searching for deception. Found none. "You're serious. You'd rather stay F-Rank with them than advance with us."
"Yes," King said simply.
"That's..." Sarah stood up. "That's really stupid. But I respect it, I guess." She started to walk away, then paused. "Offer stands if you change your mind. We train every evening in Arena Three."
She left.
Marcus was staring at King. "You chose us over advancing?"
"Obviously," King said.
"But ranks determine everything here! Resources, respect, opportunities!"
"I don't need those things," King said. "I need friends. I have friends. That's enough."
Nero was smiling. "You know, for someone who doesn't understand humans, you're pretty good at the important parts."
"What parts?" King asked.
"Loyalty. Trust. Valuing people over power." Nero raised his cup. "To being F-Rank losers together."
They drank to that.
More students approached throughout lunch. Some offering alliance. Others wanting to recruit him. A few just wanting to shake his hand.
King declined them all politely.
By the time lunch ended, word had spread: King Von Deluxh was loyal to his friends. Couldn't be bought or recruited. Valued relationships over advancement.
For some students, this made him more interesting. For others, it made him a fool.
---
Combat class that afternoon was different.
Instructor Vera had them doing partner drills—practicing defensive techniques against various attack types.
King was paired with a student named Thomas—D-Rank, earth manipulation talent.
"Go easy on me," Thomas said nervously. "I saw your fight yesterday. I know what you can do."
"I'll be gentle," King promised.
They began. Thomas created stone projectiles and launched them at King. Slowly at first, then faster as he gained confidence.
King dodged some, caught others. Each movement minimal, precise.
"You make it look effortless," Thomas said, panting from the exertion of creating so many projectiles.
"You're doing well," King said. "Your aim is accurate."
"But it's not hitting you."
"That's my job. Dodging is my part of the drill. You're doing your part perfectly."
Thomas seemed to stand a little taller after that.
They continued until Vera called for rotation. King's next partner was a girl with water magic. Then someone with wind. Then fire.
Each time, King encouraged them. Complimented their techniques. Made them feel capable even though none of them could touch him.
By the end of class, the students who'd partnered with King were smiling. Confident.
"You're good with people," Dante observed as they walked back to the dorm.
"Am I?" King asked.
"You make them feel capable. Valued. That's rare here." Dante looked at the academy around them. "Most people just try to prove they're better. You try to make others better."
"I'm just being honest," King said. "They are capable."
"That's what makes it work," Dante said.
---
Evening came. King sat in their dorm room while his roommates did homework.
Marcus was struggling with a magical theory problem. Nero was sketching something—diagrams of shadow patterns. Dante was sharpening his chains with methodical focus.
This is nice, King thought. Quiet companionship. Everyone working on their own things but together.
A knock on the door. Marcus opened it.
A small girl stood there. She looked maybe sixteen, with long brown hair and tired eyes. Her uniform was clean but worn.
"I'm looking for King Von Deluxh," she said quietly.
"That's me," King said, standing.
"I'm Lily. Lily Rose." She clutched a medical bag. "I heard you helped Marcus when he was being bullied. And that girl in the plaza. And you treat everyone with respect regardless of rank."
"Okay," King said. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm a healer. C-Rank, Rare Talent." Lily looked down. "But I'm from the outer villages. My family died in a monster raid two years ago. I got into the academy on scholarship, but everyone treats me like I don't belong because I'm not from the city."
"That's unfair," King said.
"I know. But that's how it is." Lily looked up, meeting his eyes. "I heard you don't care about backgrounds. That you judge people by who they are, not where they're from. Is that true?"
"Yes," King said.
"Then..." Lily took a breath. "Can I be your friend? I don't have anyone here. Everyone either ignores me or mocks me. But you seem kind. And your friends seem kind too."
Marcus stepped forward. "You can absolutely be our friend."
"Really?" Lily's eyes were shining.
"Really," Nero confirmed. "We're collecting outcasts. It's kind of our thing."
"Plus we need a healer," Dante added. "Every team needs a healer."
Lily smiled—bright and genuine. "Thank you. I'll do my best to help however I can!"
She pulled out small vials from her bag. "I made healing potions. I'm not great at combat, but I'm good at this. Please take them."
King accepted a vial. The liquid inside glowed softly. "You made these yourself?"
"Yes. It took me three days, but I wanted to give you something as thanks for being willing to befriend me."
"We should be thanking you," King said. "For trusting us."
Lily joined them in the room. They made space for her at the table, and she pulled out her own homework. Within minutes, she was helping Marcus with his magical theory problem.
Five friends now, King thought, watching them interact. Five people who chose this connection.
The warmth in his chest grew stronger. Was this what mortals meant by "belonging"? This feeling of being part of something larger than yourself?
I like this, King decided. I like this very much.
---
A bell chimed across campus—the evening announcement bell.
"Attention students," a magically amplified voice said. "Monthly rankings will be updated tomorrow. All students report to the main plaza for announcements. Mandatory attendance."
"Monthly rankings," Marcus said nervously. "That means they'll update based on recent performance."
"You beat an A-Rank," Nero said to King. "You're definitely getting promoted."
"I don't want to be promoted," King said. "I like being F-Rank with you."
"That's not how it works," Dante said. "Performance determines rank. They'll move you up whether you want it or not."
King frowned. "Can I refuse?"
"No," everyone said simultaneously.
"That seems unfair," King said.
"Welcome to the academy," Lily said softly. "Nothing here is fair. Everything is competition."
They continued studying until curfew. Lily left reluctantly, making them promise to sit with her at breakfast.
"She's nice," Marcus said after she left.
"She's lonely," Dante corrected. "But yes, also nice."
"We're all lonely," Nero said. "That's why we found each other."
They settled in for the night. Marcus and Nero eventually fell asleep. Dante meditated by the window.
King lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Tomorrow would bring new rankings. New attention. More changes to the dynamics he was just starting to understand.
But I have friends now, King thought. Five people who chose me. That won't change no matter what rank they assign me.
He hoped he was right.
Outside, the academy slept. Dreams of advancement, fear of failure, hopes and anxieties mixing in the darkness.
And in Room 3-A of Tower Four, five outcasts had found something the ranking system couldn't measure:
A place where they belonged.