The academy courtyard looked different the next morning. Same stone paths, same flags fluttering in the wind, but every conversation seemed to pause when Kael walked by.
Students who had ignored him before now glanced over their shoulders, whispering. Some sneered, some smiled. It didn't matter. Fame came fast in the academy — especially when you embarrassed a noble.
Ryn trailed beside him, biting into an apple. "You should've seen the forums last night. Half the school thinks you cheated."
Kael adjusted his bag. "And the other half?"
"They think you're cursed."
"Progress," he said dryly.
Taro jogged up behind them, out of breath. "You're trending in the cafeteria. Some kid's selling reenactments of your match. With dolls."
Kael blinked. "That was fast."
Ryn nodded. "Welcome to Crest Academy. Nothing spreads quicker than scandal."
They turned the corner — and froze.
Lucen stood near the training hall entrance, arms crossed. Behind him, three upper-rank students in golden uniforms leaned against the wall, watching with open amusement. Lucen's sleeve was neatly stitched, but the cut Kael had made yesterday was still visible.
"Well," Lucen said quietly, "if it isn't the miracle."
Kael's tone stayed calm. "Morning."
Lucen's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Enjoy it while it lasts. Because I'm taking it back."
Ryn shifted closer to Kael, whispering, "He's not bluffing. Those are House Valeor's guards-in-training."
Lucen continued. "You think one lucky hit makes you special? Let's make it fair this time — no audience, no instructor."
Kael tilted his head. "That sounds suspiciously like a mugging."
The taller guard stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "Call it an education."
Kael sighed. "How educational are we talking?"
Ryn muttered, "We should leave."
Lucen's voice dropped. "You can walk away. But then everyone will know you were just a fluke."
That word — fluke — hung heavier than expected. Kael's jaw tightened. He didn't like how easily it fit.
He finally said, "Fine. After class. Behind the mana wells."
Lucen's grin widened. "Perfect."
---
Classes passed slower that day. Kael couldn't focus on lectures about mana flow or crest resonance. His mind kept replaying the fight — how close he'd come to losing control when the mimic skill fused.
Something about that evolution message stayed lodged in his thoughts. Adaptive Resonance. It wasn't just about copying. It was like his Crest was starting to think for itself.
By evening, when the sun dipped behind the academy towers, Kael found himself walking toward the wells. The air was heavy with mana — shimmering streams rising from the glowing reservoirs that powered the school.
Lucen was already there, along with his guards. The hum of energy around them made everything feel distant, like a stage before a play.
Lucen gestured lazily. "No teachers, no rules. Let's see what the 'Blank' can really do."
Kael's hand brushed against his silver ring — his Crest mark pulsing faintly. "Sure. Let's test how lucky I really am."
The first guard lunged. Kael sidestepped, catching his arm, redirecting momentum. He'd seen this stance before — standard Valeor training. Efficient but predictable.
> Observed ability detected.
Skill: Force Palm (Basic) — Replication possible.
Kael twisted, mirrored the strike, and sent the man flying backward with his own move. The other two rushed in.
It became a blur of motion — Kael weaving through attacks, copying forms mid-fight, adjusting faster each second. But he wasn't perfect. Every borrowed move drained more mana than it should have. His Crest trembled from the overload.
Lucen finally stepped in. His aura flared — sharper now, golden light crackling. "Enough games."
The ground split under his step. A burst of lightning-charged air slammed into Kael's chest, throwing him into a wall. Pain shot through his ribs.
Kael coughed, steadying himself. "Guess we're skipping warm-up."
Lucen's next strike came harder — a focused spiral of golden wind. Kael threw up his hand instinctively, channeling what little energy remained.
> Adaptive Resonance: Partial Trigger.
Skill Fusion: Force Palm + Gale Line = Tempest Break.
The resulting shockwave exploded between them, hurling dust and sparks. For a heartbeat, everything went white.
When the air cleared, both stood barely on their feet. Lucen's uniform was torn, Kael's arm hung limp.
Lucen stared at him with disbelief — and maybe something else. Fear.
Kael said quietly, "You wanted fair. That's fair enough."
Before Lucen could respond, a deep voice echoed from the shadows.
"That's quite enough."
Instructor Calen stepped out, expression unreadable. "Breaking curfew. Unauthorized combat. Detention — both of you."
Lucen scowled but didn't argue. The guards vanished fast. Kael lowered his head, breathing hard.
Calen's gaze lingered on him. "Your Crest… it's changing faster than regulation allows."
Kael stayed silent.
Calen sighed. "Try not to burn the academy down before midterms."
As the instructor left, Kael exhaled slowly. His Crest still glowed faintly, lines shifting like living metal. Adaptive Resonance — whatever it was, it had just saved his life.
He looked up at the night sky above the towers. The stars shimmered like crests of their own, pulsing in strange rhythm.
He couldn't tell if that rhythm belonged to the world — or to him.