A few hours before Lucas found himself in that strange place...
Like any other day, Lucas ate his lunch alone in a quiet corner of the cafeteria. Nearly a year had passed since he enrolled at Magia Academy, yet he hadn't made a single friend.
Not that it was surprising—most students didn't like him.
He didn't care to get close to anyone. As long as they left him alone, he was grateful.
While lost in thought, three students entered the cafeteria, scanning the room. Their eyes landed on Lucas, and smug grins stretched across their faces.
'Shit.'
Lucas knew exactly what was coming. He recognized the trio—especially the one in the middle, the one who tormented him most.
That was Simon Graham. Handsome, arrogant, with striking purple hair—he was a prince of the Graham Kingdom.
Technically, Lucas outranked him. While Simon was the fourth prince of his realm, Lucas Sinclair was the only prince of the Sinclair Kingdom.
In other words, the Crown Prince.
Lucas was nineteen, the same age as them. He had shoulder-length white hair, pale skin, and a refined face that bordered on feminine—people often mistook him for a girl at first glance. But what truly set him apart were his eyes. Sharp and hawk-like, with heterochromia: one blood-red, the other sapphire blue. An arresting, beautiful contrast.
Like the others, Lucas wore the academy's standard black military-style uniform with gold accents. Some students had cords or epaulets denoting their rank or family. Lucas had none—just simple shoulder buttons.
As its name suggested, Magia Academy was devoted to magic and combat training. The uniforms were designed for practicality and discipline. But to Lucas, they only served to highlight what he lacked.
After collecting their food, the three boys made a beeline for him.
To Simon's left was Nathan. On his right, Alan. Lucas didn't pay either of them much attention. He wasn't even sure which noble families they came from—they were Simon's lackeys, nothing more.
Lucas stood, hoping to slip away before things escalated.
But a firm hand clamped onto his shoulder.
He turned—and Simon was already there, using his magic to close the distance in a blink.
"Leaving so soon?" Simon asked, his voice syrupy with mock concern. "Aw, don't be mad. We didn't mean to keep you waiting. Lunch is always better with friends, right?"
His tone was teasing—fake kindness laced with sarcasm. Snickers rose from nearby tables. Everyone knew what this was: another round of bullying.
"Take your hand off me," Lucas said, his gaze sharp.
Simon's smirk widened. His grip tightened, fingers digging into Lucas' shoulder, hoping to elicit a reaction.
But Lucas didn't flinch. His expression stayed cold and composed, though the pain pulsed beneath the surface.
That only irritated Simon more.
He finally let go.
Lucas turned to leave, but Nathan and Alan had just caught up. Simon set down his own tray, grabbed Alan's plate instead, and, with a twisted smile, dumped its contents onto Lucas' head.
"Oops! My bad. Thought you might want seconds," he said with a laugh.
'That was my food,' Alan thought bitterly.
Lucas stood still, his expression unmoved. As Crown Prince, he couldn't afford to show fear or humiliation—even as laughter erupted around him.
Without a word, he walked out of the cafeteria, dripping with food.
"What a loser," someone muttered.
"He didn't even fight back."
"The Sinclair Kingdom's doomed if that weakling rules it."
"If I were Crown Prince..."
Lucas heard it all as he exited.
He knew they envied him—his title, his status. That was why Simon targeted him. And the reason others scorned him was just as clear.
Thanks to his parents, Lucas was accepted into Magia Academy. That was another reason why many students disliked him.
Magia Academy was the best magic academy in the country, or at least in the human kingdom. So the requirements and selection were very strict, not just anyone could be accepted as a student at Magia Academy.
Lucas shouldn't have been accepted as a student at Magia Academy with his abilities. But his parents, the King and Queen of the Sinclair Kingdom, forced the Head of the Academy to accept him.
They thought Lucas could awaken his powers if he was at Magia Academy.
---
Lucas should've been in potions class, but instead, he stood alone on the Academy's empty training field.
The weapons racks lined the perimeter, and a large oak tree shaded the center. Lucas retrieved a rapier from the rack and walked toward the tree, stopping a few paces away.
The sky was clear, with a few lazy clouds drifting overhead.
Lucas raised the rapier vertically in front of his face, his right hand steady at chest level.
Swoosh.
A strong breeze stirred the leaves as he closed his eyes, letting the wind cool his skin and calm his nerves.
He opened his eyes—and his rapier struck forward seven times in rapid succession.
He paused, then looked at the blade.
Seven leaves hung from it, pierced cleanly. He'd hit every target.
Still, his face showed no pride or satisfaction. For him, this was ordinary.
Suddenly, a dagger flashed into his left hand as if summoned from nowhere. He slashed down—and three falling leaves split in half midair.
He sighed.
The dagger was beautiful. Its black blade shimmered with glowing blue patterns—elegant and faintly magical.
It had been a gift for his fourteenth birthday, one he'd only received after much pleading and insistence.
For some reason, holding the dagger brought him peace. It made him feel like his fate was, for once, in his own hands.
He looked up through the oak's canopy, the light filtering through the leaves. Then he concealed the dagger inside his coat.
'Is all this for nothing?'
Lucas wasn't like other nobles. He hadn't been born with any magical gifts. No matter how hard he trained, without the ability to sense mana or awaken his powers, his strength barely improved.
His body had always been frail. Even a single lap around the field would make him collapse.
That's why he'd chosen the rapier—it was lighter than a standard longsword, which typically weighed over three pounds. He couldn't wield anything heavier for long.
That weakness was why people looked down on him.
If he had power, he wouldn't let Simon or anyone else humiliate him.
But at Magia Academy, strength was everything—and despite his royal blood, Lucas had none.
Most of the students came from powerful noble families with a legacy of magic and combat.
Suddenly, a familiar, mocking voice cut through the air.
"Hey, trash. What the hell are you doing here, training?"
Simon Graham had returned, flanked as always by Alan and Nathan.
Lucas turned and saw the trio approaching, smug and arrogant as ever.
Not again... His mood was already foul. Their presence made it worse.
"Training won't save you, loser!" Simon sneered. "Trash is still trash, no matter how much it struggles."
Now that no one else was around, he didn't bother hiding his contempt.
When they were close enough, he stopped. Lucas faced him calmly, though his eyes burned with frustration.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly, holding his emotions in check.
"I just felt bad for you," Simon said with mock sympathy. "Training all alone like that? How about a little sparring match? I'll show you where you really belong."