The night sky shimmered with countless stars, casting silver light upon Trinity Academy. Among the grand dormitories, the Red Crown stood out — a residence reserved for the nobles of the kingdom.
At its highest floor, the room of Bercht Platinum, the prince of a kingdom, was heavily guarded. Compared to other representatives like Zephyrus, son of an influential monarch, and Myael, the duke's daughter, Bercht's security was on an entirely different level.
Yet, among all the people in the academy, only one outsider was allowed inside his room — Linea Aurum.
Inside the lavish chamber, Linea sat on a crimson sofa, her silver hair glinting softly under the lamplight. On her lap rested the exhausted prince, fast asleep after a long day of training.
"You've been working since morning," she murmured with gentle frustration. "I told you to rest on weekends."
Bercht's voice was faint, laced with fatigue. "The morning air was nice. My body just… moved on its own."
Linea sighed. "You're free to train, but not to get hurt. Especially when you're sparring with the Highlander. If someone else had entered before me, they'd think you'd been assassinated."
Bercht chuckled weakly. "I put that guy in a tough spot."
"I'm glad you know," she replied dryly.
As her fingers brushed aside his hair, Bercht's heavy eyelids fluttered. His body, tense from battle, slowly relaxed.
"He was amazing," he whispered.
"Connor McCloud?"
"Yes. He doesn't like being called 'the Highlander,' from what I've heard."
"Then I'll call him Mr. McCloud," she said softly.
Bercht smiled faintly, recalling the duel from that morning.
Connor had read through his spear technique — one Bercht had honed for years — in just a few exchanges. It was unsettling, yet impressive. It reminded him of Myael's instinctive talent, as if Connor carried that same intuition.
"I couldn't beat him," Bercht admitted quietly.
He hadn't held back during their spar. Each thrust of his spear was strong enough to shatter bones, and yet every strike missed or was effortlessly countered. Connor fought defensively, landing only shallow cuts — never going for lethal blows.
It wasn't arrogance. It was mercy.
And that made it sting even more.
"He even defeated Princess Astaroth and her magic sword with nothing but an iron blade," Linea reminded him. "You couldn't have won."
Bercht let out a breath. "You're harsh."
"If I'm not," she said, "you'll try to fight him again."
He raised his hand — the same one Connor had grazed during the duel. The wound was already gone.
"Linea," he murmured, "sing for me."
"Your Highness… please, go to bed."
"I'd rather stay here," he said, closing his eyes as her white hair brushed against his cheek.
After a moment of silence, Linea began to hum — a soft, wordless melody that filled the room like a lullaby. Her voice carried warmth and sadness, echoing gently until the prince drifted into peaceful sleep.
The next morning came quickly.
Time — that strange, fickle thing — always disappeared when it was most needed. The academy buzzed with tension, for today was the first day of the midterm exams at Trinity Academy.
April 26th.
As I, Connor McCloud, walked down the corridor, my stomach growled in protest. I hadn't eaten. Anxiety was stronger than hunger.
[Kyle, what's the schedule again?]
My internal companion, Kyle, responded calmly.
[Three days — ten subjects in total. Today you've got math, science, history and culture, and basic magic theory.]
[You call that normal? That's torture!]
[Then study instead of complaining.]
I sighed, clutching my textbook. "I hate math…"
Kyle ignored me as usual. His tutoring had gotten me through multiplication and division, but the exam questions went far beyond that — strange symbols, letters, and formulas that felt like sorcery disguised as arithmetic.
Then suddenly — thud!
My forehead tingled. Someone brushed past and knocked the book from my hands.
A tall student with red sleeves walked ahead without looking back. A noble from the Red Crown dormitory.
"Hey! You hit me!" I shouted. He didn't even flinch.
The exam bell rang before I could chase him. "Tch…"
In the exam hall, tension filled the air as pens scratched against paper.
The first few problems went fine — multiplication, division — until letters started appearing in equations.
[Kyle, help.]
[No. That's cheating.]
[Only if we get caught.]
Kyle didn't answer, which meant he was glaring at me inside my head again.
But before I could even attempt the next problem, dizziness hit me. My strength vanished — like air being sucked from my body. My arms trembled. My head hit the desk.
[Connor? What's happening?]
I couldn't respond. My limbs wouldn't move.
Kyle materialized as a faint blue spirit, invisible to the students. He searched the room, his deep voice echoing in my mind.
[Do you know the student behind you?]
[How would I?]
[Galea Grogda.]
The name clicked instantly.
That noble — the one I'd defeated in a duel a month ago. His Gift caused exhaustion in lower-ranked opponents upon contact.
And then I remembered — the red sleeves. The bump in the hallway.
"Damn it…" I muttered weakly.
[He hit your shoulder before the exam. That was the trigger.]
Kyle's tone hardened. [His Gift lasts 24 hours. He can control how much fatigue he inflicts.]
"Twenty-four hours?!" I groaned inwardly.
[He wants to sabotage your score — revenge for his humiliation.]
Of course. I should've known.
When the exam finally ended, I could barely lift my head. The moment Galea Grog left the room, strength flooded back into my limbs.
So that was it. He'd intentionally left to bait me.
[What will you do?] Kyle asked.
I stood slowly, rolling my stiff shoulders. [What else? I'm going to make him regret it.]
Kyle sighed. [So much for a peaceful academy life.]
I smirked, stepping into the corridor. "Yeah. Guess graduation's gonna have to wait."