Something was in the air.
Scar's duel with Purple didn't sit well with most people. The disgusted glances, the chuckles, and the eye rolls said everything. He was heading toward villainy.
That wasn't good. No matter how he looked at it, that wasn't the kind of attention he needed. Worse, a staff member, Mingle, calm and gentle as he was, still had words about his actions.
"You're new, but ignorance won't protect you here. Refusing to use your Inheritance is just another way to your death."
His words sounded reasonable enough. But he didn't look sane. This was Scar's first time seeing him, and the man just kept smiling. That lustful smile never wavered.
But the guy had a point. No matter how Scar looked at it, not using his Inheritance wasn't smart. That was why he was in the academy in the first place, the council wanted to keep tabs on his progress.
He was left with one option: flames one of his predecessors had summoned, one of the only women ever to inherit the Flames of the Unknown.
But…
It had been three days since Scar's duel with Purple, and Julien had managed to scrape out a narrow win. After that, Scar had one thought: he wanted Isaac to meet his friend. Even if the old man made his usual inappropriate jokes.
As it turned out, Julien was quite the pedestrian, too. It took them nearly two hours to reach the bakery district of Fourth District, Barbados.
When they arrived, something had Scar bemused.
"Oi! Oi! A boyfriend already?! It's only been a week!"
The old man said enthusiastically, hauling himself off the sofa. He tried to look supportive, spiritually embracing their "relationship," but his wide, confused eyes gave him away. The old man might actually be homophobic.
Julien smiled awkwardly and shook his hands in contrast.
"No… we are just friends."
But Scar noticed the arm Isaac tried to hide in his robe. Deep bruises wrapped around his wrist.
His mind spiraled.
Scar's grip was strong. Eight years of 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats daily had seen to that. But even his grip couldn't leave a mark like that.
His heart battered against his chest.
While Isaac regaled Julien with his twisted humor, words proving he'd been a virgin for eighty-three years, Scar tried to figure out who could have hurt his father like that.
Everyone at the bakery loved Isaac, pervert or not. He never crossed lines, just harmless flirting. They'd grumble while working the knots from his back before they'd dream of hurting him.
Who then?
Dain? Had Dain figured him out already? If so, why go after the poor old man? As a God Killer, he had countless ways to lure Scar out without much effort.
Then, a new enemy?
"I can't say for sure, but there's a girl he likes. Honestly, everyone likes her. Haven Velanora."
Isaac abruptly turned to Scar, and his words were enough to snap him out of his daze.
"Wait—he's in love with who? A Velanora?"
Scar forced a smile and shrugged his shoulders.
"You know me… I never aim low."
Isaac laughed at the top of his lungs.
"That's my boy. Don't let me die before you bring her home."
Scar sneered.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, old man. I haven't even talked to her yet."
Isaac's expression darkened as he processed Scar's words. Then forced another laugh.
"So… you are a chicken?"
Scar laughed too.
Two weeks ago, Scar would have reacted to this situation differently. The man who raised him was attacked? He'd burn down the world as long as he had the strength to. But now with all the memories and knowledge he possessed, it was safe to say he'd matured.
Whatever it was, Isaac didn't want Scar worrying about it. As his father, it was natural that he'd want to shoulder the burden while Scar lived comfortably. Though Scar's life was anything but comfortable.
All Scar could do was live in the moment, not waste what Isaac had given him. So he did. They fell into their usual banter, twisted laughter echoing through the bakery. Soon enough, Julien was laughing too.
But like the sun rising and setting, their time came. In their situation, they couldn't linger forever like the moon. They had to return to the academy.
"Hey, lad. Do your best, yeah? Make some good friends… and when you're back, I'll be here to meet them all."
Those were Isaac's last words before Scar left. Scar responded with a grin wider than his heart could hold. He'd do it. If it meant making the old man genuinely smile. But first, they'd both have to survive whatever was coming.
A day passed, faster than they even realized.
Scar carried the burden of using his Inheritance without exposing it, without drawing Dain's attention. And most of the time, he wondered what his father was enduring.
At this moment, though, he was genuinely horrified, his mind unable to process the sight. Even though the bastard, Adisa, was around, hate watching.
In the arena, on the compacted sand, two tier-6 combatants went at each other. The fight was savage; attacks that Scar knew full well he couldn't survive, even with heavy armor. Blood, wounds, and bruises. More blood!
"All of this in an Ordinary State?"
His skin crawled. He and Julien both sat there like kids watching a horror film—wide-eyed, unable to look away.
Decreasing tiers was as natural as breathing. Once your Inheritance grew comfortable at a certain tier, it automatically dropped.
There were visible signs… someone who could light one candle at tier-7 might light two or three at tier-6. The advancement showed clearly, even without the individual announcing it.
At first, the wider range of magical power became uncontrollable. Someone could aim to kick a rock—at their initial strength, they could only move it with full force. But once their strength grew, going at full strength meant shattering the rock.
Such transformations were what some people with an Inheritance dreamed of.
At least, for the ordinary people like Scar. There were more effective ways to evolve in tiers but such information wasn't something Scar's pitiful memories wielded.
But the instant the match ended, Scar's need to grow stronger became an urgent reality.
"What? Storm? But isn't he one of the best Tier-6 students?"
Julien asked, terrified.
Scar trembled, staring down at the arena. Mingle, that staff member, the one who'd asked him to use his Inheritance, stood on the field, looking up with that smile.
Those dark eyes. That ridiculous hair-flicking, like he was auditioning for a modeling gig.
Scar started to hate him already.
'Storm and me?'