Finally.
Warm water. Actual soap. The basic necessities of human civilization.
Agni sank into the bath like a man who'd been lost in the desert for a week. Which, considering his journey, wasn't far from the truth.
The water was hot—almost too hot—but he didn't care. It felt like heaven. The grime and blood and forest-stench slowly dissolved, swirling down into cloudy brown patterns before being magically filtered away by whatever enchantment kept the bathwater clean.
He scrubbed. And scrubbed. And scrubbed some more.
I think I just discovered three new layers of dirt I didn't know existed.
By the time he finished, the water had cycled through five complete changes, and his skin was pink and raw from aggressive washing.
But he was clean.
He stepped out, dried off, and looked at the clothes laid out for him.
The Aethermoor Academy uniform.
It was surprisingly elegant. A long-sleeved white shirt with a high collar, paired with dark trousers and a fitted jacket. The jacket was deep blue—almost navy—with silver buttons and subtle embroidery along the cuffs and hem.
And there, embroidered over the left breast, was the academy's emblem: an open book with a quill resting across its pages, surrounded by a circle of interlocking rings representing the Nine Realms.
Agni pulled the uniform on. It fit perfectly—tailored, clearly, though he had no idea when anyone had gotten his measurements.
Probably magic. Everything here is probably magic.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
For the first time in a week, he looked... human.
Almost presentable, even.
He ran his fingers through his still-damp hair, trying to tame it into something less chaotic, then gave up and left it as it was.
Good enough.
When he stepped out of the bathing chamber and into the sitting room, the smell hit him first.
Food.
Real food.
His stomach growled so loudly it practically echoed.
A small table had been set up near the window, laden with dishes. Light fare, clearly meant for recovery after travel—nothing too heavy, nothing that would overwhelm a stomach used to Potato of Despair.
But it looked incredible.
Agni nearly groaned just looking at it.
He sat down, picked up a fork, and took his first bite.
Oh.
Oh gods.
It was good.
Not just "better than military rations" good. Actually, genuinely, delicious good.
The flavors were balanced. The textures were perfect. Everything was warm and fresh and carefully prepared.
Anything but military rations is nectar of the gods right now, he thought, barely stopping himself from inhaling the entire plate in one go.
"Enjoying the taste?"
Lyralei's voice came from the corner of the room.
Agni glanced up.
She was standing by the window, arms crossed, watching him with a pleasant smile on her lips. She'd changed into the academy uniform as well—the same design as his, but tailored specifically for her. The jacket fit her perfectly, accentuating her tall, elegant frame. Her jet-black hair fell in a straight curtain down her back, catching the afternoon light.
She looked... regal.
"It's good," Agni said, swallowing. "Really good."
Her smile widened slightly, and she puffed up just a little—a tiny hint of pride slipping through her otherwise composed expression.
"It's one of my secret recipes," she said. "I'm glad it's to your liking."
She cooks?
A future queen who can fight, strategize, AND cook?
I feel even more useless now.
"It's the least I could do," Lyralei continued, her voice still pleasant, "in return for such a wonderful gift."
Her gaze flicked down to something on a side table.
The gift box.
Or rather, what remained of it.
The blood-soaked velvet had been carefully cut away and discarded—presumably in a trash bin somewhere. The contents, however, had been extracted and now sat on a clean cloth.
A book.
Not just any book.
A handwritten book.
The cover was worn leather, embossed with intricate dragon motifs in gold leaf. The pages were thick parchment, each one filled with flowing script and detailed illustrations.
The Dragon Realm Culinary Compendium.
Agni stared at it.
That's what was inside?
A cookbook?
I have been itching to get my hands on this for a long time, she thought and those bastard dragons don't print their recipes. Every copy is handwritten, unique, nearly impossible to acquire.
Father managed to obtain one.
And then decided to gift it to me via the most incompetent person in the kingdom.
In the most cliché way possible.
Her fingers twitched slightly, as if resisting the urge to crush something.
Rest assured, I will be having a VERY long talk with Father when I return home.
Still, by sheer luck, the handcrafted book's quality had saved it. The pages were water-resistant parchment, treated with protective enchantments. Despite the blood and mud and chaos, the book itself was mostly intact
Out loud, she said nothing..
Agni continued eating, savoring each bite.
The dishes were light but flavorful—perfectly suited for someone recovering from a brutal journey. There was a warm vegetable soup with herbs he didn't recognize. Soft bread rolls with honey butter. Sliced fruit arranged in delicate patterns. A small pot of herbal tea that smelled like flowers and tasted like calm.
This is almost on par with the palace head chef's meals, he thought, genuinely impressed.
Lyralei settled into a chair across from him, folding her hands in her lap.
"So," she said, her tone casual. "How exactly did you end up in... that state?"
Agni paused mid-bite.
Right.
I have to explain.
He set down his fork and thought for a moment.
He couldn't exactly say it was an assassination attempt. That would open too many questions. Questions like "Who sent them?" and "Why were they so weak?" and "How did you survive?"
After all, the attackers had known his identity. They'd been aware he was the Crown Prince of the Sun Empire. They'd specifically targeted him.
But they were also... weak.
Very weak.
No one sends Level 2 Mana Circuit assassins after a prince. Even a prince known for being weak. It didn't make sense.
Unless they were beginners? Amateurs?
Or maybe it was just robbery, and they happened to recognize me?
The more he thought about it, the less it made sense.
Plus, they'd been ranting about kidnapping him alive. That suggested some kind of plan—ransom, maybe? Political leverage?
But if that was the case, why hadn't he encountered anyone else on the road? Why had the entire route been completely empty of travelers, merchants, or patrols?
Either Father set this up as an extremely cruel way to push me...
Or there was a massive information leak, and someone knew my route in advance.
Honestly, he couldn't care less at this point. It was an exhausting week.
"Ah," Agni said, nodding to himself as if satisfied with his answer. "While I was riding here, I encountered a Kodros bear. Lost Big B in the fight. From there on, I had to journey on foot."
Lyralei's expression didn't change.
"A bear," she repeated slowly.
"Yup. Big one. Very aggressive."
"I see."
There was a long pause.
"Did you have no escort?" she asked.
Agni blinked. "Ah, no. I was traveling alone. In fact, I never met anyone during my entire journey."
Lyralei stared.
Alone?
If he was traveling alone, someone would have seen it. Word would have spread. It would have been all over the news prints by now.
There's no way he could have arrived in the state he did without SOMEONE noticing.
Unless...
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
She stood, walked over to his makeshift luggage—the sad little bundle of supplies he'd managed to salvage—and pulled out the rolled terrain map.
"I'll be taking this," she said, her voice pleasant. "Alright?"
Agni looked confused. "Yeah, sure. I don't need it anymore."
Good.
She tucked the map under her arm.
Out loud, she hummed. "I'm glad you're okay."
Agni nodded, already reaching for another bread roll.
"So," she continued, keeping her tone light. "You didn't bring any formal attire either? Was that lost as well?"
"No, I just had two spare sets of clothes. That's it."
Of course he did.
Of course.
Lyralei's smile tightened imperceptibly.
"Well," she said, "we'll need proper attire soon. We have to formally announce our engagement to the other heirs and noble houses. I'll arrange for tailored outfits to be prepared."
"Oh. Okay."
"Were you told anything else I should know about?" she asked. "Protocols, expectations, ceremonies?"
I'm talking to him like he's a toddler, she realized with some frustration.
Why am I talking to him like he's a toddler?
Agni paused, thinking.
"No," he said finally. "I was only made aware of the marriage arrangement a week before I left. When I met with Father."
A week before.
Lyralei's eye twitched.
"I see," she said, her voice remarkably calm.
Agni nodded absently, already focused on finishing the last of the snacks laid out before him—candied nuts, dried fruit slices, a small honey cake.
"So," he asked between bites, "when do the academy preparations start? Orientation, classes, all that?"
He leaned back in his chair, surprisingly content.
"Honestly," he admitted, "I'm actually looking forward to what the academy has to offer. Didn't think I'd feel that way, but here we are."
A vein popped on Lyralei's forehead.
A week before.
He knew ONE WEEK before arriving.
I've known about this marriage for SIX MONTHS.
Her jaw tightened.
So the Emperor prepared the entire arrangement, finalized everything, and only informed his own son at the last possible moment.
She looked at Agni—slouched in his chair, chewing happily, seemingly unconcerned about anything.
I guess I understand the decision, she thought bitterly.
Looking at him... I can see why Father and the Emperor made this choice.
It just makes him look more pathetic.
Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
So what's the Emperor's real goal here?
Does he intend to use me to sharpen the prince? Mold him into something useful?
Or does he want me to shatter him, so he has an excuse to pin me down?
Does he even care about the throne? Or does he see me as a threat?
She caught herself.
No. I'm thinking too much of myself.
She was only at the 5th Manipulation of Mana Circuits. Impressive for her age, certainly—but nothing compared to the Emperor, who commanded half the human race and had reached levels of power most people couldn't even comprehend.
He doesn't see me as a threat, she realized. He sees me as a worthy babysitter for his useless son. Someone who can handle the actual work while the prince sits on the throne looking pretty.
Any woman would be thrilled by such an opportunity.
But that just pisses me off more.
She forced her expression back to pleasant neutrality.
"Are you excited as well?" she asked, her smile bright and utterly fake.
"Uh, yeah. I guess."
"Good. But we'll have to wait a bit longer, Prince Agni. Many students have yet to arrive."
She walked toward the balcony door.
"The Hero and the Prince of the Moon Empire should be arriving soon. We should watch. It's considered polite to acknowledge important arrivals."
Agni got up, stretching. "Is it necessary?"
"Yes."
A long yawn escaped his mouth.
"Right," he mumbled. "The Hero. Why was he called Hero again?"
Honestly, I'm still tired from that journey. But sure. Let's get this over with.
They made their way to the balcony attached to Lyralei's guest suite.
The view was breathtaking. From this height, they could see the entire welcoming plaza spread out below—carriages, students, servants, banners fluttering in the breeze. Beyond that, the academy grounds stretched into the distance, a sprawling city of knowledge and power.
Agni stood beside Lyralei, leaning against the railing.
She gazed up at the sky, humming thoughtfully.
"The Hero first, it seems."
Agni looked around. "Where?"
She pointed.
Up.
At a bird.
A very, very distant bird.
Agni squinted.
"Oh, right." Agni's eyes sharpened for just a second—his enhanced perception kicking in automatically—before relaxing again as he tracked the approaching shape.
The bird grew larger.
And larger.
And larger.
"...Maybe too large," Agni muttered.
It wasn't a bird.
It was a monster.
A Thunderwing Roc—a legendary avian creature with a wingspan that stretched over fifty meters. Its feathers shimmered in brilliant hues of gold and sapphire blue, catching the sunlight like living gemstones. Its beak was massive, hooked, and sharp enough to tear through steel. And its eyes—
Six of them.
Arranged in pairs down the length of its head.
The Roc let out a screech that echoed across the entire plaza.
SCREEEEEEE—
The sound was so loud it rattled the windows. Several students below covered their ears. A few carriages' horses spooked, though their handlers quickly calmed them.
The Roc's wings fanned outward, slowing its descent as it approached the designated landing platform. Wind whipped through the plaza, scattering loose papers and making banners snap wildly.
Slowly, majestically, the creature touched down.
The platform groaned under its weight.
And from its back, two figures dismounted.
The first was a woman.
She wore a maid's uniform—crisp, black, perfectly pressed. Her hair was tied in a neat bun, and her eyes were closed. In one hand, she carried a leather suitcase.
But her back—
Massive black wings extended from her shoulder blades. Draconic wings, covered in overlapping scales that gleamed like polished obsidian.
As she descended gracefully from the Roc, her eyes opened.
Slit pupils. Golden irises. The unmistakable gaze of a dragon.
A dragon maid, Agni thought, blinking. That's new.
The second figure followed.
And the entire plaza seemed to hold its breath.
The Hero.
He was a man with lush blonde hair that seemed to catch and hold the sunlight, and light blue eyes that radiated confidence and warmth in equal measure. His Academy uniform was impeccably tailored, and he moved with the easy grace of someone who'd never doubted his place in the world.
As he dismounted, the maid handed him his suitcase. Her eyes opened, revealing distinctive slit pupils set in golden irises that decorated her beautiful face with an otherworldly quality.
"My role ends here, Young Master Draekon," the maid——said with a small bow.
"Thank you for the escort, Seraphina," Draekon replied warmly, taking the suitcase.
"I have to fulfill the request of majesty before I leave by night so please feel free to reach out in case of needing assistance.."
Draekon nodded…
A moment later, another arrival.
The sound of hooves.
Thundering, rhythmic, powerful.
A Royal Chariot of the Moon Empire rolled into the plaza, drawn by five massive horses.
But these weren't ordinary horses.
They were Shadowmane Horses—jet-black, with manes that seemed to flicker like dark flames. Their eyes glowed crimson, burning with some inner fire. Each one was the size of Big B, muscles rippling under their glossy coats.
The chariot came to a halt.
A man stepped out.
Prince Cassius of the Moon Empire.
He had white hair—not the white of age, but pure, silvery-white that fell in elegant waves to his shoulders. His eyes were gray, sharp and calculating. He wore the formal uniform of Moon Empire nobility—white and silver, trimmed with dark blue.
He smiled.
But his smile didn't quite reach his eyes."
"Prince Cassius looks pissed," Lyralei chuckled quietly. "He got completely outshined by the Hero's entrance."
"Definitely fancy entries," Agni agreed. "Both looked impressive."
And those horses...
They really do look like Big B.
I miss that grumpy bastard.
Below, Draekon turned toward Prince Cassius.
The Hero gave a small, respectful nod.
"Prince Cassius. A pleasure, as always."
Cassius returned the gesture, his smile tightening slightly.
"Hero Draekon. The pleasure is mine."
They shook hands—firm, measured, the kind of handshake that doubled as a test of strength and dominance.
Neither gave ground.
After a moment, they released and turned to enter the academy together.
And that's when their eyes traveled upward.
To the balcony.
To the vision of unparalleled beauty standing at the railing.
Lyralei Valen.
Both men froze.
Their eyes widened—just for a moment, just a fraction of a second—but enough.
Draekon's confident smile faltered.
Cassius's irritated expression smoothed into something closer to awe.
Lyralei watched their reactions with satisfaction.
Now that's a worthy reaction, she thought, pleased. Glad to know I haven't lost my touch.
Both men quickly recovered, but the damage was done. Their jaws had nearly dropped. Their composure had cracked.
And Lyralei had noticed.
Now that's a worthy reaction, she thought, pleased. Glad to know I haven't lost my touch.
Agni was already turning away from the railing, stretching his arms above his head.
"So," he said. "Are we done watching arrivals? Can I go find a place to nap?"
Lyralei's eye twitched again.
"...No," she said evenly. "We're not done yet."
This is going to be a long engagement.