The seventh day arrived quietly—the final day of Rick's confinement.
For seven long days, he had been sealed inside the small stone room, denied the world beyond its walls. No training grounds. No sky. No voices. Only silence, discipline, and the relentless grind of mana control. His punishment had been severe, but it had forged something deeper within him.
Rick stood still, his gaze fixed on his hands.
Mana shimmered faintly around his fingers, no longer wild or unstable. It obeyed him now—responding not to instinct or desperation, but to will. At first, he had used mana unconsciously, in fight against Vein. But now, finally, he could manifest it on his own terms.
A slow smile formed on his face.
After all these years of struggle, failure, and relentless effort, he had done it. He had reached the level of External Art—the ability to release mana beyond the body itself. It was a milestone few achieved so young.
Rick exhaled deeply, satisfaction washing over him.
Then—
The iron gate creaked open.
A guard stood at the entrance, his shadow stretching across the floor.
"Student Rick," the man said in a loud, authoritative voice. "Your punishment is over. You're free to leave."
Rick stepped out of the room, squinting as sunlight struck his eyes for the first time in seven days. The open sky felt vast, almost overwhelming. He paused for a moment, simply breathing—admiring the blue above and the warmth of the afternoon sun.
The guard extended a weapon toward him.
"Here's your sword."
Rick accepted it with quiet respect. The familiar weight in his hand felt grounding—like a reminder of who he was before the confinement, and who he was becoming now.
His first stop was the dormitory.
The halls were empty, echoing with stillness. Classes were still in session, and the afternoon had drained the place of life. Rick entered his room, placed his sword carefully into his locker, and headed straight for the bath.
Seven days of sweat and discipline clung to him.
As warm water washed over his body, Rick let out a small breath of relief. The exhaustion melted away, replaced by clarity.
"It feels amazing," he murmured.
Clean and refreshed, he changed into fresh clothes. Hunger finally made itself known, and with it, a simple desire—food.
The cafeteria was nearly silent.
Only a few students remained, and the vast space felt hollow. At the counter stood a single figure. Rick approached and spoke politely.
"Good afternoon. Are you alone here?"
The person looked up from the newspaper in his hands, startled.
"Oh—Rick?" Kyle said, quickly lowering the paper. "You scared me. I didn't know you were out of confinement."
"I was just released," Rick replied calmly. "I came here after bathing. I need something to eat."
Kyle smiled knowingly.
"Then you're just in time. You missed lunch, so you'll have to pay extra."
Rick sighed, annoyance flickering across his face.
"…Figures."
Kyle's smile widened.
Kyle placed Rick's food onto the tray with deliberate slowness, glancing up as if weighing his words.
"By the way," he said casually, "I hope you're ready for tomorrow."
Rick paused. "Ready for tomorrow?" he echoed. "For what?"
Kyle let out a small breath and shook his head. "I don't think you know yet. After news of your fight spread through the city… people started worrying. A lot. I just hope you're prepared to face them."
Rick didn't answer.
His fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the tray, but his face betrayed nothing. Kyle noticed the silence and smirked.Then, forcing a bright smile, he pushed the tray forward. "Here. Enjoy your meal."
Rick took the food without a word and moved to an empty table."Heh… guess I'm screwed," he muttered under his breath.
As he ate, his thoughts churned. What would he say to the city's people? How could he explain what had happened?
By the time his plate was empty, he had reached a quiet decision.
I'll avoid them, he thought. For a while, I will use another part of the city.
The rest of the day passed slowly. Rick wandered the academy grounds, letting the hours slip by until classes finally ended. Only then did he return to his room.
The door creaked open.
"Oh? You're already back?" one of his roommates said while changing clothes.
"Yeah. Just got out," Rick replied, scratching the back of his head.
"I'm honestly surprised they didn't expel you," Krai said from his bed.
Rick turned to the window, gazing out at the fading sky. "For that, you can thank Rome. He saved me."
A moment of silence followed.
Then Rome spoke, his tone softer. "I heard Viscount Mrock came to visit you on your third day. Were you… alright?"
Rome's voice carried concern.
Rick nodded slowly. "It's okay. He was kinder than I expected."
He lowered his gaze. "Rome… Leze… Krai… I'm really sorry. For all the trouble I caused."
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Rick felt it—a faint smile forming on there face as everyone relaxed.
"Well," Krai said casually, "by now, I'm already used to it."
Rick let out a quiet laugh.
"And what I can say," Krai continued, turning toward him, "when I was the one who chose you as my lord."
Rome smiled faintly at that, while Leze remained silent, offering only a shy smile.
And just like that, the tension faded.
The rest of the evening passed peacefully, filled with idle chatter and small laughter. Rick spoke with Rome and Krai until the night settled in, and for the first time in days, he felt… normal.
The next day, Rick sat in the classroom.
Everywhere he looked, eyes turned away.
Whispers drifted through the air, hushed and uneasy. Students avoided meeting his gaze, their conversations dying the moment he passed.
Fear followed Rick everywhere.
In the cafeteria, whispers fell silent when he entered. In the hallways leading to the classrooms, students instinctively stepped aside. Even without understanding the full truth, they all knew one thing—that Rick was dangerous.
It wasn't entirely surprising.
He had brutally defeated a noble from a high-ranking family and yet remained unexpelled. That fact alone fed countless rumors. Some claimed he was the son of an immensely powerful noble. Others whispered that he belonged to a secret organization hidden deep within the empire. The academy buzzed with speculation.
Rick himself knew none of it.
Unaware of the stories growing around his name, he sat quietly in the classroom beside Rome, Leze, and Krai, waiting for the geography lesson to begin.
Before the instructor arrived, a girl approached him hesitantly.
"R-Rick…" Lina began, her voice trembling. She seemed to struggle for the right words.
Rick looked up and immediately understood.
Lina was trying to thank him.
"You don't have to," he said gently, offering a small smile. "Instead, I should be the one thanking you for saving me. I didn't do anything special, so don't think about it too much. Just… enjoy your academy life."
Relief washed over her face. She nodded shyly and hurried back to her seat.
Rick returned his gaze forward.
Beside him, Krai—who had been listening the entire time—stared in disbelief.
"Wow…" he muttered. "Just wow."
Rick frowned. "What?"
"I was just wondering how you managed to make a girl fall in love with you that fast."
Rick blinked. "That's not what happened."
"Well, everyone seems to think so," Krai replied with a grin, punching Rick lightly in the side.
"What's wrong with you?" Rick said annoyed.
Leze scowled. "You idiots…"
Their argument might have escalated further if not for a calm, gentle voice cutting through the noise.
"Now, everyone—calm down."
The geography instructor had entered the room.
The classroom instantly fell silent.
She walked to her desk and surveyed the students before her eyes landed on Rick.
"Before we begin," she said evenly, "why don't we hear a few words from the talk of the academy."
Her gaze never left him.
"Rick," she continued, "stand up and tell us—how are you feeling?"
Rick slowly rose from his seat.
Dozens of eyes locked onto him.
At the instructor's question, Rick slowly rose from his seat.
An awkward smile crossed his face as the entire class stared at him. He stood there in silence, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes pressing into his back. Beside him, Rome and Krai shifted uneasily, trying—and failing—to suppress their laughter.
Rick said nothing at first.
He simply stood there, motionless, staring at the instructor. Then, at last, he let out a quiet sigh.
"I am truly ashamed of my behavior," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Instructor, I hope you will forgive me."
The room remained silent.
The instructor's expression hardened. Her voice, when she spoke, was calm—but firm.
"It's not that I believe you did the wrong thing," she said. "But what you did was also not entirely right."
Rick said nothing.
"Well," she continued, "you may sit down. And I sincerely hope you will not do something like that again."
"Thank you, Instructor," Rick replied as he returned to his seat.
As he sat down, he casually flicked a small piece of paper toward Krai's side. Krai glanced at it and snorted quietly.
Fucker, the note read.
The instructor cleared her throat.
"Silence, everyone," she said, calming the class. "I have an announcement to make."
The room straightened immediately.
"I hope you all remember the upcoming Foundation Day," she continued. "Good. There's just over a month left until then, so I expect everyone to prepare seriously."
Murmurs rippled through the classroom.
"As you already know," she went on, "many events will be held in the city arena. But since there is only one day for the event, only a limited number of students will be chosen to perform."
Excitement spread like wildfire.
"And to choose that," she added with a small smile, "as always, the annual competition will be held for one full week. That competition will begin three weeks from now."
Her gaze swept across the room.
"So… good luck to all of you."
With that, the lesson continued as normal—though Rick could feel the instructor's eyes returning to him more than once.
After Geography class, every other class was same except the fact that every teacher gave a earful to Rick.
And just like that, Rick's first day after confinement came to an end.
Two and a half weeks passed.
Only two days remained before the competition—and two weeks before Foundation Day.
Inside the academy's headmaster's office, stacks of documents covered the desk like a small mountain. The headmaster sat buried in paperwork, carefully reviewing the academy's affairs.
A knock echoed through the room.
"Come in," he said without looking up.
The door opened, and a man stepped inside.
"Good morning, my lord," Blaze said respectfully.
The headmaster finally raised his head.
"Ah… Blaze," he replied. "What brings you here?"
"What is it, Blaze?" Nuel asked without lifting his eyes from the documents piled across his desk. "I am already busy enough preparing for Foundation Day."
Blaze straightened, his expression unusually tense. "I apologize, my lord, but a letter has arrived—from the Royal Capital."
That made Nuel pause.
"A letter?" he repeated, finally looking up. "Not a voice transmission?"
Blaze extended his hand, the sealed parchment resting in his palm. "Yes, my lord. And that alone is troubling."
Nuel studied the envelope for a moment before taking it. His expression grew grave as his eyes scanned the contents.
"A letter instead of a voice transmission…" he murmured. "That means something serious is happening."
"I don't know the details," Blaze replied carefully, "but the situation does not feel ordinary."
"Well then," Nuel said quietly, folding the parchment. "Tell me what it says."
Blaze hesitated. "The Wenk Kingdom has been showing suspicious movement along the eastern border. We have been advised to remain on high alert."
Nuel rose from his chair and walked toward the window, gazing out at the academy grounds below.
"With Foundation Day approaching," he said, "this could become a problem. Moving troops or resources will be difficult."
Blaze clenched his fists. "I just hope everything goes smoothly. If it doesn't… things could turn chaotic."
Nuel exhaled slowly. "I also hope so."
Elsewhere in the city, far from political worries and sealed letters, Rick walked through narrow streets with Rome at his side.
They had traveled from district to district, distributing food in the back alleys—places where the city rarely looked for last two days. A four-day holiday had been declared before the competition, and Rick had insisted on using the time this way.
"I've told you before," Rome said calmly, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Eventually, you'll have to face them. You can't keep avoiding people forever."
"Oh, please shut up," Rick snapped. "I'm not avoiding anyone. I just need time to sort things out."
Rome sighed but said nothing more.
Rick turned sharply into a narrow alley that led deeper into the city's forgotten quarters. "Now follow me," he added. "This way leads to the beggars' shelters."
They walked in silence for a while.
Then Rick stopped.
Ahead of them, a group of children rummaged through discarded crates, searching desperately for scraps of food.
Rick's eyes hardened.
"Hey," he called out sharply.
The children froze, startled by the sudden voice.
Seeing the child freeze in fear, Rick softened his voice.
"Don't be afraid," he said gently. "Here—come take some food."
The boy hesitated, his thin fingers curling into his worn clothes.
"A-Are you… are you the Bread Guy?" the child asked timidly.
Rick blinked. "The… Bread Guy?"
"Yes," the boy said quickly, eyes wide with hope. "My mom says there's someone in the city who gives food to people like us. Are you him?"
Rick paused—then smiled.
"Well," he said, kneeling slightly, "yeah. I guess that's me."
The boy's face lit up as if the sun itself had risen in that narrow alley.
"Really? Really? Then come with me!" he said excitedly. "I'll take you to my mom!"
He led Rick and Rome deeper into the back streets, past the market's edge, to an alley where dozens of people sat on the cold stone ground—men, women, and children whose eyes had long grown used to hunger.
"Mom! Mom!" the boy shouted. "The Bread Guy is here!"
At once, people gathered around Rick, murmuring in disbelief.
"So you're the one who brings food to the back alleys?" someone asked.
Rick scratched his head awkwardly. "Uh… excuse me, how do you all know about me?"
One of them smiled faintly. "Actually most of us live in the slums.And there you can hear many people how a small kid hand out bread to everyone in alleys and Good things travel fast since they're rare."
Rick only smiled in return.
Without another word, he began handing out bread—one loaf at a time—to everyone present.
Gratitude filled the air more powerfully than any magic ever could.
When the last loaf was gone, Rick stepped further into the alley.
"Hey—you shouldn't go in there," someone called out urgently. "There's a woman deeper inside. She shouts nonsense at everyone she sees. It's dangerous."
Another added, "It'd be better if you stayed away."
Rick turned back with a calm smile. "It's alright. You don't need to worry."
Further down the alley, he saw her—a woman sitting alone on the ground, thin, disheveled, staring at nothing.
Rome's hand moved to his sword as he saw the wiman. "Rick, be careful."
But Rick ignored him and walked on.
Rick crouched before her, holding out the last piece of bread.
"Here," he said softly. "Some food for you."
But the moment the woman truly saw Rick, something inside her broke.
A raw, instinctive terror surged through her veins—so sharp it drowned thought itself. Her body reacted before her mind could reason. She stumbled forward, placing herself in front of Rick as if to shield him, trembling violently, her breath shallow and uneven.
"It's impossible…" she whispered, her eyes wide, locked onto him. "This… this is impossible."
Her knees shook as she stared, fear and disbelief twisting together.
"How can something like you exist?" she muttered, stepping backward in horror. "How could the world allow a being like you to walk among us?"
Her gaze darted wildly, as if reality itself had betrayed her.
"No… this isn't right," she said, her voice cracking. "Something is wrong. How can you exist? How can a thing like you—"
She couldn't finish the sentence.
Her terror became overwhelming. With a strangled gasp, she turned and ran, disappearing into the maze of alleys, her footsteps frantic and unsteady.
"Wait!" Rick called, reaching out instinctively.
But it was too late.
"She's gone," Rome said quietly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, eyes sharp. Then, after a pause, he added, "Don't worry about her. Let's go."
Rick lowered his hand, saying nothing.
That evening, as the sun dipped low and shadows stretched across the city, Rick and Rome boarded the tram back to the academy.
Rick sat in silence, staring out the window, his thoughts tangled around the woman's words—impossible… shouldn't exist.
Rome noticed his distant expression.
"Stop thinking about her," he said firmly. "She probably mistook you for someone else. What matters now is the competition. Focus."
Rick inhaled deeply, then nodded.
"Yeah," he said softly. "You're right."
And just like that, the long, chaotic day came to an end.
But what Rick didn't know—what he couldn't know—was that the woman hadn't mistaken him for someone else.
She had seen something.
Something beyond logic. Beyond common sense.
Something the world itself tried desperately to hide.
And soon, Rick would return to uncover the truth buried beneath it all.