The morning after the duel was different. The air inside Seoul Hunter Academy felt sharper, every whisper carrying his name.
Lee Shin — the boy from Class D who had defeated a Class A prodigy.
Students turned their heads as he passed, their conversations fading into murmurs. Some looked at him with awe, some with fear, and a few with envy. It wasn't admiration he felt in their eyes — it was curiosity, disbelief, and the first hint of respect.
But for Shin, the victory had never been about pride. It had been survival. A statement that he would no longer be the shadow everyone mocked.
He walked through the corridor quietly, his footsteps steady, his presence calm. The faint pulse of the ring beneath his cuff was silent for once, as if satisfied — or waiting.
"Hey, Shin!"
A familiar voice called out. Ha-Yoon jogged up to him, her short hair damp from morning mist, a bright grin plastered on her face. "You're the talk of the entire academy! You know that, right? People from Class A are actually talking about Class D. It's crazy!"
Shin gave a small, tired smile. "Then maybe the academy's standards are slipping."
She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder. "Oh, come on. You could at least pretend to enjoy it. You beat your half-brother in front of the entire department! That's something even Class B couldn't dream of."
"I didn't beat him for glory," Shin said quietly. "He needed a reminder that arrogance isn't strength."
Ha-Yoon blinked, then laughed softly. "You sound like one of those stoic heroes from old war dramas."
Shin didn't answer, but his faint smirk was enough to make her laugh again. They walked together down the corridor, past groups of students who parted at their approach. For once, no one dared to mock Class D aloud.
When they reached the cafeteria, Ha-Yoon grabbed two drinks and slid one toward him. "So," she said, leaning forward across the table, "what's next? The finals are in two weeks, and the professors said this year's test is going to be brutal. Word is, they're mixing all first-years into group combat trials."
Shin nodded. "Then we prepare."
Ha-Yoon sighed dramatically. "Of course. You're all business. No celebration, no rest—just straight back to training."
He sipped quietly from his cup. "There's no point celebrating before the real test."
She studied him for a moment. There was something about his eyes — steady, deep, and tired, like someone far older than seventeen.
"You talk like you've lived through too much," she said quietly.
Shin looked out the window where sunlight spilled across the wet cobblestones. "Maybe I have."
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. She didn't press for answers, and he didn't explain. Between them, unspoken understanding filled the air.
Later that afternoon, when classes ended, a voice called out across the training yard.
"Lee Shin!"
Every student turned. Standing at the gate was Nonna Lee — Class A's Fourth-Year prodigy and Shin's older half-sister. Her long coat flowed behind her, the academy's golden insignia gleaming at her chest. The sheer weight of her mana made the air thrum faintly.
Ha-Yoon's jaw dropped. "That's your sister? The Nonna Lee? She's, like, a campus legend!"
Shin sighed. "Yeah. Unfortunately."
Nonna's gaze locked on him as she approached, her boots echoing sharply on the tiles. "You've been making quite the mess lately, little brother," she said with a smile that was half amusement, half pride. "Defeating Hyun-Seok, making Class A look bad — I had to see this for myself."
"I didn't do it for attention," Shin replied evenly. "He challenged me."
Nonna laughed softly. "Still so calm. You really haven't changed."
Then her voice softened, just a little. "You did well, Shin. Father heard about it too."
Shin's eyes flickered. "Father?"
"He acted indifferent," she admitted, "but I saw it in his face. He's… curious now. That's a start."
He didn't know how to reply. He hadn't spoken to his father in years, not since his mother's death — the quiet fracture that had turned him into the family's unwanted child. Nonna seemed to sense the thought and gently patted his shoulder. "Don't push too hard, okay? Some things take time to heal."
Before he could answer, she turned to go, waving over her shoulder. "Oh, and Shin… try not to cause any more explosions in the finals, alright? I don't want to clean up your mess again."
As her silhouette disappeared, Ha-Yoon leaned close, whispering, "Your family's wild."
Shin's faint smile returned. "You have no idea."
High above, from a classroom balcony, Hyun-Seok watched the scene unfold with quiet fury. His arm was still bandaged, his pride shattered. Seeing Nonna laugh with Shin, hearing the rumors about his loss spreading through every hall — it was unbearable.
His jaw tightened. "He took everything. My respect. My place. My sister's attention."
A low voice beside him replied, "Then take it back."
Hyun-Seok turned. A senior instructor stood there — his face hidden beneath the brim of his cap, a faint aura of mana circling his wrist. "The finals are a team trial this year," the man said. "Accidents can happen. Weaklings can break."
A cruel smile spread across Hyun-Seok's lips. "Then let's see if the academy still believes he's a miracle when he's broken."
That night, the rain had stopped. The sky was clear, the stars sharp against the dark velvet above the dorm fields.
Shin sat beneath the old oak near the edge of the campus, the same place he often came when the noise of the academy grew too heavy. The faint hum of mana from the city in the distance filled the air. He rested his back against the tree, eyes half closed.
The ring glowed faintly beneath his sleeve, its pulse soft and steady — like a second heartbeat.
He could still hear Ahra's voice echoing in his memory. The defiance. The pain. The strength.
He would protect that light — even if she never knew who he really was.
Footsteps approached, and Ha-Yoon appeared, holding two cans of soda. She tossed one his way. "You always hide out here after big events, huh?"
He caught it easily. "Old habits."
She sat beside him, pulling her knees close. "You know, I think you're the strangest person in this entire school."
"How so?"
"You win fights you shouldn't, you talk like an old man, and you train like someone who's trying to outrun a ghost."
Her tone softened. "What are you really chasing, Shin?"
He looked at the moon for a long moment before answering. "Peace."
"Peace?" she echoed, a smile tugging at her lips. "Then I'll make sure you find it."
He turned to her, surprised. "You?"
"Yeah," she said lightly, gazing at the stars. "Someone has to keep an eye on the academy's mystery boy."
For a brief second, Shin allowed himself to laugh — quiet, real laughter. The kind he hadn't felt since before his death.
The night wind brushed through the trees, carrying the scent of rain and new beginnings. The ring on his finger pulsed once more, brighter this time, as if responding to something deep within him — determination, hope, maybe even a promise.
He looked at the glowing horizon beyond the dorms — toward the coming finals, toward his rising path.
This academy had taken everything from him once. Now, it would become the place where he took it all back.