The following morning came quietly. Emily had already risen before the sun, moving silently through the house. She swept and dusted every corner, washed the dishes, and laid out breakfast neatly on the table. By the time she had finished, steam rose gently from the food. She hurried to her room, washed up, and changed into her school uniform, her hair tied neatly behind her back.
When Northern stepped out of his room, stretching lazily, his gaze fell on her. She stood near the door, bag strapped over her shoulder, looking ready to leave.
He raised a brow. "Where are you going?"
Emily blinked, caught off guard. "To school, Master."
To her surprise, Northern's expression shifted, his usual indifference replaced with faint curiosity. "School… hm. I'm interested."
Before she could even respond, he turned on his heels and walked back into his room. She called after him, but he paid no attention. Moments later, the sound of running water reached her ears.
Emily sighed, shaking her head. "He can't be serious."
Yet he was. Northern soon emerged again, dressed immaculately in a clean set of clothes that suited him far too well. His white hair had been brushed back, his pale skin flawless, and those red irises of his glimmered like jewels.
Without a word, he gestured toward the door. Emily had no choice but to follow. A carriage was called, and the two of them rode in silence toward the academy.
The moment they arrived and Northern stepped down, conversations across the courtyard hushed. The girls who saw him stopped in their tracks, wide-eyed. Gasps slipped from their lips as they took in his appearance — the refined features, the otherworldly hair, and the red gaze that seemed to burn straight through them.
Whispers quickly filled the air.
"Who is he?"
"He looks… incredible."
"Is he a new student?"
Northern ignored them all. His eyes swept over the academy gates with mild interest, then he calmly walked forward, as though he had already been a part of this place.
Emily, on the other hand, clenched her books tightly and muttered under her breath, "This is going to be trouble."
Northern's gaze swept across the wide courtyard of the academy, taking in the flowing uniforms, the noisy chatter, and the curious stares directed at him. His presence was like a storm cloud in clear skies—unnerving yet strangely captivating.
He turned to Emily, who had been walking slightly behind him, her steps hurried to keep up. "Take me to the owner of this school," Northern said suddenly, his tone leaving no room for question.
Emily blinked, caught off guard. "You… you mean the Headmaster?"
"Yes," he replied flatly, his crimson irises locking onto her. "The one who controls everything here. Take me to him."
Emily hesitated. "But… students aren't allowed to just walk into his office. We need permission—"
Northern cut her off by simply walking ahead, his long strides forcing her to run to catch up. His expression didn't waver, and though he said nothing more, his intent was clear: whether by permission or force, he would meet the one in charge.
The students watching whispered excitedly among themselves, some shrinking back at the cold aura that surrounded him, while others—mostly the girls—couldn't hide their admiration for the strange, white-haired boy who walked with the arrogance of someone far above them.
Emily swallowed nervously and finally pointed toward a tall building at the far end of the courtyard. "T-the Headmaster's office is over there."
Northern gave a faint nod, and continued walking.
When he got to the building, he knocked on the door.
"Who is there? Come in," a reply came from the inside.
Northern glanced at Emily. "Wait here," he told her before opening the door and going in.
The office was a simple one, painted white. There was a shelve filled with books by the corner and at the center of the office, a table with a man seated on it. The man has silver long hair and is putting on glasses. The moment Northern walked in, he raised his head.
Northern saw shock flash across the man's face but didn't say anything concerning it and walked towards the table.
"Good morning, are you the head of the school?" He asked him.
The man silently gazed at Northern for a while before replying. "To what do we owe this visit, aren't you the son of Lord Silver from Apas City?" He asked.
"Indeed," Northern replied. He didn't expect the man to know him but then if he didn't, it will be questioning considering his identity as the head of a school. "I have come to be part of this school."
The man narrowed his eyes. "It's not like we do not appreciate having a noble person like you in our school but we can't afford to offend your father," he said.
"That won't be a problem because I have no connection with the Silvers," Northern replied. He watched the man's face, be didn't seem surprised which meant one thing — he was already aware of everything. "My name is no longer Northern Silver but Northern Miles, please take note of that." Northern Miles was the name he used on Earth.
"But—"
"Or is it because of my inability to have an ability yet?" Northern asked, narrowing his eyes. He had noticed that the man was reluctant in accepting him.
"I am not someone that looks down on anybody no matter the circumstances," the man said, then sighed and fell back on his chair. "My question is will you be able to cope here? I will not be able to protect you all the time."
Northern's gaze was steady, unwavering. "I will be fine," he said with quiet firmness. "I do not need anyone's protection."
The Headmaster studied him in silence for a long moment, as though weighing the truth in his words. Finally, he let out a deep breath, pushing his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.
"…Very well," he murmured. "You seem certain of yourself, Northern—Miles." He tested the name carefully, then gave a small nod. "If this is the path you have chosen, I won't stand in your way."
The tension in the air eased slightly. The man opened a drawer, pulling out a polished bronze plate, etched with runes and the crest of the academy. With a quill and strange ink that shimmered faintly blue, he inscribed Northern's new name upon it.
"From this moment forward," the Headmaster said, sliding it across the desk, "you are a registered student of Elarith Academy. This identity card will grant you access to your classes, the training halls, and other facilities. Do not lose it."
Northern picked it up, inspecting the plate briefly before tucking it away. His expression didn't change, but there was a faint gleam in his eyes.
"Good," he said simply.
The man leaned back, watching him still. "My name is Mr. Stevens," he said at last, voice carrying the weight of authority. "Remember it well. While you are under this roof, your actions reflect not just on yourself but on the academy. I will treat you as I do all my students—no favoritism, no leniency. Do you understand?"
Northern inclined his head faintly. "Understood."
"Good," Mr. Stevens said, his expression softening just slightly. "Then it is settled. You may begin immediately. Year One classes are already underway. Your servant will guide you to your class."
Northern turned without another word, his white hair gleaming as he walked back to the door. When he stepped out, Emily straightened nervously from where she had been waiting.
"How did it go?" she asked.
Northern held up the bronze card for her to see before slipping it away again. "Take me to my class," he said.
Emily blinked in surprise, then nodded quickly. "Y-yes, Master."
And with that, the two of them began walking down the long corridor toward the Year One lecture hall.