Vel arrived at the training ground the next morning, feeling more purposeful than he had in days. The weight of sending his warning to Landre through Voss had lifted some of the anxiety from his shoulders. His steps were lighter, his mind clearer.
Celia jogged over with her practice sword already in hand, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.
"You look different today," she said, studying his face. "Did something happen after you met with that Voss person yesterday?"
Vel nodded, guiding her toward a quieter corner of the training ground. He explained about the warning he'd sent to Landre through Voss about the creature threatening her mission.
"Will she be okay?" Concern flickered across Celia's face.
"Lan-neechan is stronger than she looks," Vel said, forcing confidence into his voice. "And now she'll be prepared."
He spotted Tomas arriving at the field, fumbling with his wand as usual, the focus crystal at its tip catching the morning light. Something shifted in Vel's perspective as he watched his classmate. Not just a teammate for the tournament, but someone with potential waiting to be unlocked.
"Let's get started," Vel said, gesturing for Tomas to join them. "I want to try something different today."
As Tomas approached, Vel noticed Instructor Lyvenna crossing the field toward them, a small wooden box in her hands.
"Good morning," she called. "I brought the protective charms for your practice duels." She opened the box, revealing several medallions. "They're the same ones used in official duels—they'll prevent any real harm while still allowing you to feel the impact of strikes."
Vel took one, feeling its weight—physical and magical—in his palm. "Perfect timing. Tomas, how about a one-on-one? I want to see how far you've come."
Tomas blinked in surprise. "Me? Against you?"
"Don't worry," Vel said, attaching the charm to his uniform. "I'm not trying to beat you—I'm trying to help you become stronger."
Vel circled Tomas in the practice ring, watching how the other boy held his wand. Sweat beaded on Tomas's forehead as he tried to track Vel's movements.
"When a melee fighter charges at you," Vel called out, suddenly rushing forward with his practice sword, "what's your first instinct?"
Tomas panicked, firing a hasty magma bolt that Vel easily sidestepped.
"Keep distance!" Vel instructed, halting his charge. "And control their movement. Force them to go where you want."
From the sidelines, Celia cupped her hands around her mouth. "Tomas! Watch your footwork! Smaller steps, stay balanced!"
Tomas nodded, adjusting his grip on his wand. "What brought this on? Why the sudden intense training?"
Vel didn't answer immediately, instead circling again. His mind drifted to synchronized villagers with hollow eyes, to Landre facing unknown dangers in distant mountains. "The tournament is just practice," he said finally. "The real world won't wait for us to be ready."
This time Tomas cast a magma wall, forcing Vel to change direction. Better, but still predictable. Vel leaped over a low section of the wall, closing distance rapidly.
Across the field, Rohen and Enya had stopped their own practice to watch. Mira joined them, her eyes tracking every movement of the duel.
"That's it!" Celia called as Tomas backpedaled while maintaining his spell. "Keep moving!"
Vel dashed and dodged around each magma bolt Tomas fired, noting how his teammate's confidence grew with each cast. The other unstable students had now gathered at the edge of the ring, their faces showing a new intensity, a hunger to improve that hadn't been there before.
With a final burst of speed, Vel slipped past Tomas's guard and tapped his chest with the practice sword. The protective charm glowed briefly, signaling a point scored.
"Good effort," Vel said, stepping back. "Those magma bolts could use more explosion on impact, though. Or maybe leave molten rock splashing if someone tries to deflect them. That would force opponents to dodge rather than block."
Tomas nodded, breathing hard but looking more determined than defeated. "I never thought of that."
Celia joined their third round, turning it into a two-against-one scenario. Vel found himself genuinely challenged as he dodged Tomas's ranged attacks while parrying Celia's swift sword strikes.
During a water break, Vel examined the protective charm attached to his chest. The medallion was warm to the touch, its surface etched with intricate runes that seemed familiar yet just beyond his understanding.
"Instructor," he called, holding up the charm. "How exactly do these work?"
Lyvenna approached, taking a seat on the bench beside him. "Curious as always, Velarian."
"They prevent injuries, but we still feel the impacts," Vel said. "There must be more to it."
"As long as two people wear these charms, they cannot fatally harm each other," Lyvenna explained. "You'll feel the full effect of a strike, but it won't cause lasting damage."
"And if the damage becomes too much?" Vel asked.
"The charm breaks," she said simply. "That's why matches end when that happens—it's the safety mechanism."
Vel ran his thumb over the medallion's surface, feeling the subtle grooves of the runes. "Was there ever an accident during duels?"
Lyvenna's expression hardened, the brief moment of openness vanishing.
"Yes," she finally said. "But it was caused by the duel getting too heated. The instructor couldn't intervene in time."
Vel let go of the charm near his chest. Instead of falling, it flew back and stuck to his uniform like a magnet.
They resumed practice, with Vel alternating between sword techniques and magic spells. Sometimes he'd rush at Tomas with only his blade, forcing the caster to improvise defenses. Other times he'd hang back, casting ice projectiles that required Celia to demonstrate her deflection skills.
By midday, all three were drenched in sweat, their mana reserves nearly depleted.
"Vel!"
The urgent call cut across the training ground. Konomi was running toward them, her blue hair streaming behind her, her usually calm demeanor replaced by obvious distress.
"Konomi?" Vel straightened, immediately alert. "What's wrong?"
She skidded to a halt before them, breathing hard. "It's Hileya. She's in trouble."
Celia stepped forward, concern flooding her features. "What kind of trouble?"
"Some noble students caught her in the restricted courtyard. They're questioning her, and it's getting hostile." Konomi's words tumbled out in a rush. "She was being surrounded when I passed by. I could hear raised voices."
Vel's blood ran cold. "Where?"
"The noble students' private garden. But Vel, you can't just—"
But Vel was already moving, his practice sword forgotten as he broke into a run toward the Academy's main buildings. Behind him, he heard Celia and Tomas scrambling to follow.
"Wait!" Konomi called, keeping pace beside him. "There are at least three of them, maybe more. And they have connections. If you make this worse—"
"She's my responsibility," Vel said grimly, not slowing his pace. "I should never have let her wander the Academy alone."
As they ran, Vel's mind raced through possibilities. How had Hileya ended up in a restricted area? What had she been doing there? And more importantly—how was he going to get her out of this without making everything worse?
---
The noble students' private garden courtyard was enclosed by high stone walls that created perfect acoustics. Hileya pressed herself against the weathered stones, silver braids tucked carefully behind her ears as conversations drifted from the ornate benches and fountains where nobles lounged between classes.
Hileya didn't need to be here—in fact, she might not even be allowed to be here. But she thought being present could prove useful to her master. As long as she stayed unseen.
Sounds of distant conversation echoed over the manicured hedges.
"Tournament brackets are already decided," came a voice from the nearest seating area. "Father received word from the Archmagister's office."
"Thornwood seems to have teamed up with that elite spear fighter," another replied with obvious amusement.
Hileya remained perfectly still, absorbing every word. Young master Vel needed this information about his opponents, and the nobles spoke freely when they assumed no servants were listening.
"You there."
The sharp voice cut through her concentration. Hileya's blood chilled as she turned to see three noble students approaching, their Academy uniforms bearing the subtle insignia of high-ranking houses. The leader was tall and broad-shouldered, with perfectly styled dark hair and the confident bearing of someone who'd never questioned his authority.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his tone carrying the expectation of immediate obedience.
"I'm waiting for my task, my lord," Hileya replied, dropping into a proper curtsy. "I seem to have gotten lost on my way back to the servant quarters."
"Waiting for your task?" The noble's eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down, taking in her appearance with calculating assessment. "There have been rumors of unwanted individuals entering the Academy grounds lately."
"What task? Who assigned it?"
Heat crept up Hileya's neck. "I... one of the students, my lord."
"Which student?" His voice grew sharper. "What house? What is this task exactly?"
Hileya's mouth went dry. She hadn't expected an interrogation, and the lies were falling apart under scrutiny.
The noble stepped closer, irritation flashing across his features. "I asked you a question, servant."
Before she could respond, his hand shot out and grabbed her upper arm. "Perhaps a closer look at your credentials will—"
"Please don't!" Hileya jerked backward instinctively, trying to pull free from his grip.
The motion was too sudden, too forceful. Her carefully arranged hair tumbled loose, and her left ear became visible—the telltale pointed tip that marked her mixed heritage.
The noble's grip tightened as his gaze fixed on her ear. "Well, well. Half-blood."
The conversations in the alcoves died as other students turned to watch. Hileya felt the weight of dozens of eyes upon her, and the familiar shame burned in her chest.
"That explains the skulking about," the noble continued, his voice carrying across the courtyard for all to hear. "Tell me, half-breed, how long have you been spying for the Therian Empire?"
"I'm not a spy!" Hileya protested, still trying to free her arm from his grip. "I was born in Elnor, I've lived here my entire life—"
"Garrett, Charles." The noble called to his companions without taking his eyes off Hileya. "A half-elf servant caught gathering intelligence in a restricted area. What do you think we should do about that?"
The blonde student—Garrett—stepped forward. "Perhaps we should report this to the Academy guard, Roderick."
"Oh, we will." Roderick's smile was cold and calculating. "But first, I think we need to conduct a proper search. Who knows what other secrets our little spy might be carrying?"
More noble students had gathered now, forming a loose circle around them. Some looked uncomfortable with the situation, but none spoke up to intervene.
Roderick released her arm only to grab her by both shoulders, his grip firm enough to prevent escape. "Hold her still, Garrett. Let's see what else she's hiding."
"Please, my lord," Hileya whispered as Garrett reluctantly moved to restrain her other arm. "I haven't done anything wrong. I'm not a spy."
But Roderick wasn't listening. His hands began moving over her uniform, searching for hidden items with deliberate thoroughness. When his fingers found the outline of the dagger beneath her skirt, his eyes lit up with triumph.
"Armed." He announced to the crowd. "A half-breed spy carrying a concealed weapon in Academy grounds."
He began to work the fabric up, his hand moving toward the weapon strapped to her thigh. The gesture was so invasive that Hileya reacted before she could think.
Hileya's body twisted in a practiced motion. Steel flashed as the dagger cleared its sheath. She broke away from restraining hands. The blade caught afternoon light, silver and deadly.
"No!" she cried, bringing the weapon up in a defensive stance.
The courtyard erupted in gasps and shouts. Several students stumbled backward while others leaned forward, eager to witness the unprecedented scene. Some placed their hands on the hilts of their weapons.
"Please!" Hileya's voice cracked, tears swelling around her eyes but not yet falling. Her body coiled like a spring, shoulders hunched, gaze fixed on the ground as she gripped the dagger above her face with white knuckles. "I don't want to hurt anyone! But this... this was a gift from my master! I'll do anything you want, but please don't take it away from me!"
She looked like a cornered animal—desperate, trembling, but ready to strike if pushed any further.
"Your master?" Roderick's eyes gleamed with interest. "Who is this master of yours? We'll need to bring them in for questioning as well. Supplying weapons to spies is a serious offense."
"No!" The word tore from Hileya's throat. "Please, my lord. I was here on my own. My master knows nothing about this!"
"I find that hard to believe." Roderick's smile turned cold. "A servant doesn't act without orders. Give me your master's name."
"I... I can't..." Hileya's grip tightened on the dagger. "They're innocent. I acted alone."
"Then you've chosen your fate." Roderick gestured to the drawn swords surrounding her. "Armed assault on Academy nobility. Espionage. Trespassing. And now obstruction by refusing to cooperate." He counted off each charge on his fingers. "Since you won't name your master, the Academy will treat you as masterless property."
His smile widened as horror dawned in Hileya's eyes. "Full authority to strip your servant privileges and reduce you to slave status. Immediate auction to recoup damages." His voice dropped to a predatory whisper. "I'm told half-elf girls fetch quite the price in certain markets."
Several students shifted uncomfortably at his blunt words, but none spoke up.
Hileya's face went pale as bone. "Please, my lord... there must be another way..."
"Oh, there might be." Roderick's tone turned silky, dangerous. "I could think of a few arrangements that might... reduce your sentence considerably."
The implication in his voice made Hileya's stomach lurch. Around the courtyard, some students looked away in disgust while others watched with morbid fascination.
"And what would that be?"
The new voice cut across the courtyard like a blade, calm and steady despite the tension crackling in the air. All heads turned toward the archway where a figure stood silhouetted against the afternoon sun.
Vel stepped into the courtyard, his stride steady and purposeful, eyes locked on Hileya's trembling form. Behind him came Celia and Konomi, both moving with the same determined pace. Further back, Tomas lingered near the archway, clearly uncertain whether he should involve himself in what was rapidly becoming a dangerous confrontation.
Roderick's predatory smile widened as recognition dawned. "Well, well. Isn't it the cloudy who fought Severin?" His voice carried mock amusement. "How is this not a surprise? A half-elf spy belonging to an outcast."
Hileya's face crumpled with despair.
"Yes," Vel said simply, his voice carrying across the silent courtyard. "She works for me."
Roderick's eyes gleamed with triumph. "So you're admitting to arming spies and sending them to—"
"Whatever you're saying, it's false." Vel's voice cut through the accusation with quiet authority. He stepped closer, his gaze never wavering from Hileya's trembling form. "The Academy allows servants to work here while waiting for their masters. No real damage has been done."
"She was caught spying in restricted—"
"Being half-elf is not a crime," Vel continued, his tone growing harder. "She carries that weapon under my supervision. The dagger was mine—I gave it to her."
"For what purpose?" Roderick's voice dripped with disbelief. "What servant needs a concealed blade?"
"I prefer eating outdoors. She carries it for convenience." Vel's eyes flicked briefly to something only he could see—a translucent window that appeared as he moved within range. "As for trespassing, that was under my instruction. I told her to deliver something. She seems to have gotten lost."
Roderick's face flushed with anger. "Convenient lies. Let's see who she really belongs to."
His hand shot toward Hileya's neck, intending to force her head forward to examine the servant's mark branded there.
Vel's hand snapped out, catching Roderick's wrist in an iron grip. "That's enough."
The two locked eyes, tension crackling between them as Roderick tried to pull free. Around them, hands moved to sword hilts again.
Vel released his grip and stepped back, but his gaze never left Roderick's face.
"Hileya," Vel said without breaking eye contact with Roderick, "show them."
Hileya blinked in confusion, her grip on the dagger faltering slightly. "What do you mean, young master?"
"No need to pretend anymore. In your pocket."
Still bewildered but trusting, Hileya reached into her apron with her free hand. Her eyes widened in shock as her fingers closed around something that definitely hadn't been there before—a sealed envelope.
She withdrew it with trembling hands. The envelope was dark, almost black, gleaming with gold filigree that caught the afternoon sun.
Gasps and whispers rippled through the courtyard. "The Pegasus Knights' insignia..." someone breathed, voice shaking. "The ancient order that has been serving the crown for half a millennium!"
The seal bore an intricate design that made several students step back in reverent fear.
Roderick's face went pale as bone. "That's impossible. I searched her—that wasn't there!"
"How could someone like him possess such a thing?" a voice called out from the remaining crowd, disbelief evident.
One of Roderick's companions leaned close to his ear, whispering urgently. Roderick's eyes widened as he stared at Vel with dawning recognition and fear.
"She was performing an important task," Vel said, his voice cutting through the whispers with quiet authority. "Until you stopped her."
"Since you seem so well-versed in criminal charges, what would be the consequences for interfering with royal correspondence?"
The question hung in the air like a blade. Roderick's mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. He looked around desperately for support, but most of the bystanders were already leaving, clearly unwilling to be associated with what had become a political nightmare.
Hileya sheathed her dagger with trembling hands. She approached Vel slowly, her fingers still shaking as she held out the envelope. Shame and relief tangled in her chest—despite all her efforts to protect him, Vel was now carrying her burden. Her carelessness had dragged her master into a dangerous confrontation that could have consequences far beyond this courtyard.
"I—I will not apologize for safeguarding the Academy," Roderick finally managed, his voice strained and defensive.
Roderick and his companions turned sharply without another word, striding quickly away from the courtyard. Their hasty retreat spoke louder than any admission of wrongdoing.
As much as Vel wanted a proper apology for Hileya, this had ended better than any outcome he could have hoped for.
Vel took the envelope from Hileya's trembling hands and finally let out a breath of relief.
He hadn't even thought of this relic until desperation made him search his inventory that day, looking for some way—any way—to reach Landre if Voss refused to help him. The interface no longer worked like it had back when this was just a game. Most of his old items had become little more than broken data and useless vanity trinkets in this all-too-real world.
Yet vanity, of all things, had saved him and Hileya now. It had been a complete gambit, trying to transfer an item from his interface into a real-world pocket.
"Let's get out of here," Vel said quietly.