Silver sat in his usual seat, middle row, strategically positioned to observe without drawing attention. The burns from Prince's flames had been treated by the school's medical staff—superficial healing that left faint marks but nothing serious. Enough to maintain the image of someone who'd barely survived.
Ada stood in her usual position, two steps behind and to the right. The morning chatter filled the classroom—students discussing yesterday's match, a few still arguing about betting losses, others already moving on to speculation about upcoming gate expeditions.
Ann-Katrin entered precisely on time, silencing the room with her presence.
"Before we begin today's lesson," she said, "we have another transfer student."
The room went still.
Two transfer students in one week was unheard of. The final year rarely saw any transfers—most students had been here since year one, building their skills and relationships over time.
"Arthur Ackerman," Ann-Katrin announced. "From the North territory."
The silence deepened.
Ackerman.
One of the four great families. Darkness affinity. "The Undying House."
Every student in the room knew what that name meant.
"Enter," Ann-Katrin said.
The door opened.
Arthur walked in like he owned the space—not arrogant like Prince, but with the quiet confidence of someone who'd never had to prove himself. Red eyes swept the classroom, sharp and assessing. Silver hair caught the light, and there was something almost predatory in the way he moved.
Darkness flickered at the edges of his silhouette. Not threatening, just... present. A reminder of what he was.
His gaze passed over the students, cataloging each one with barely a pause.
Until it reached Silver.
Arthur's eyes locked onto him, and for just a moment—less than a heartbeat—something shifted in his expression. Recognition. Confirmation.
Then it was gone, replaced by polite neutrality.
But Silver had seen it.
He knows.
Of course he knew. The facial disguise didn't work on family. Arthur was looking at his identical twin, saw right through the altered features to the silver eyes and black hair beneath.
Saw Silver Ackerman sitting there pretending to be Silver Pendragon.
"Arthur will be joining your class," Ann-Katrin continued, seemingly unaware of the silent exchange. "His entrance examination scores qualify him for immediate final-year placement. Treat him as you would any student of a great family."
She gestured to an empty seat—front row, near the window.
Arthur moved to sit, his movements fluid and controlled. As he passed Silver's row, darkness rippled again, just for a moment. Not an attack. Not even a threat.
A greeting.
I see you, brother.
Silver kept his expression neutral, his breathing steady. Inside, his mind raced.
Two days. Arthur had waited exactly two days after Silver's transfer before arriving. Long enough to confirm Silver was here, short enough to not lose the trail.
The hunt had caught up.
Arthur settled into his seat, and the darkness around him faded to nothing. He looked like any other student now—handsome, composed, perfectly at ease.
But Silver knew better.
Ada's hand tightened infinitesimally on the notebook she was holding. She'd seen it too. Seen the recognition, the darkness, the silent message.
Ann-Katrin began the lesson—something about advanced essence manipulation theory—but Silver barely heard it.
Because sitting five rows ahead of him, radiating controlled power and patient menace, was the person who'd tried to kill him eight years ago.
And now they were classmates.
Later - Lunch Period
The cafeteria was massive, designed to feed hundreds of students across all years. Silver had claimed a corner table on his first day—out of the way, easy to observe from, hard to ambush.
Ada stood nearby, holding a tray but not eating. Playing her role.
Silver picked at his food, aware that Arthur had entered the cafeteria three minutes ago and was currently getting his own meal. He hadn't looked in Silver's direction yet, but that didn't mean anything.
"Young Master should eat more," Ada said quietly. "Maintaining essence reserves requires proper nutrition."
"I'm fine."
"You're not. You're calculating exit routes."
Silver glanced up. Ada's expression was professionally neutral, but her dark eyes held concern.
"Three exits," Silver admitted. "Windows are reinforced but breakable. Crowd density is high enough to use as cover but low enough that essence attacks won't have significant collateral—"
"Silver."
The use of his actual name made him pause.
"He's not going to attack you here," Ada said softly. "Not on day one. Not in the open."
"You don't know that."
"I know Ackermans." Ada's voice held absolute certainty. "We don't get mad. We get even. And we do it properly. Arthur will study you first. Learn your patterns, your weaknesses, your allies. Then he'll strike."
"Comforting," Silver muttered.
"It should be. It means you have time."
Movement in his peripheral vision. Arthur was walking toward them.
No. Not toward them.
Toward the table directly adjacent to theirs.
He sat down, alone, his tray settling with a soft click. Close enough to overhear conversation. Close enough to observe. Not close enough to make it obvious.
Arthur began eating, apparently unconcerned with Silver's presence five meters away.
But the message was clear.
I'm here. I'm watching. And I'm in no hurry.
Silver forced himself to take another bite of food.
This was going to be a very long year.
Classroom - After Lunch
Ann-Katrin had moved on to practical demonstrations. "Essence reinforcement in combat is foundational, but many of you still treat it as binary—on or off. This is incorrect."
She raised her hand, and blue flame ignited around it. Not her natural affinity—she was demonstrating with borrowed essence, likely Prince's own technique as an example.
"Essence can be layered, concentrated, dispersed. The difference between a killing blow and a glancing hit is often not power, but precision."
She gestured to the training dummy at the front of the room—essence-reinforced wood designed to withstand significant punishment.
"Prince. Demonstrate your strongest flame attack on this target."
Prince stood, still looking somewhat subdued after yesterday's loss. Blue flames gathered in his palm, compressed into a sphere. He released it.
The flame struck the dummy dead center. Wood cracked, essence barriers flickered, but the dummy held. Scorched and damaged, but intact.
"Good power," Ann-Katrin said. "Now. Mary. Same target. Same approximate essence expenditure. Your choice of technique."
Mary stood, walked to the front. She didn't gather visible essence, didn't prepare any obvious attack.
She just placed her palm against the dummy's chest.
There was no explosion. No flash of light.
The dummy collapsed inward, crushed to splinters from a single point of contact.
Students leaned forward. Silver included.
"Precision," Ann-Katrin said. "Mary concentrated her essence into a singular point and overwhelmed the target's structural integrity. Prince dispersed his across the entire impact zone. Both used similar amounts of essence. Vastly different results."
She turned to the class. "This is the difference between students who pass this academy and students who conquer gates alone. Understanding not just your power, but how to apply it."
Arthur raised his hand.
"Yes, Arthur?"
"May I attempt the demonstration as well?" His voice was smooth, polite. "To test my own precision against the examples provided."
Ann-Katrin studied him for a moment, then nodded. "The dummy is already destroyed. I'll summon another."
A new dummy materialized at the front of the room, identical to the first.
Arthur stood, approached it. Darkness gathered around his hand—not aggressive, not wild like Prince's flames. Controlled. Surgical.
He touched the dummy.
The darkness didn't explode. Didn't crush.
It erased.
A perfect sphere of nothing appeared where Arthur's hand had touched—the dummy's essence-reinforced structure simply ceasing to exist within that space. Then the effect spread, consuming the dummy from the inside out in absolute silence.
In three seconds, there was nothing left. Not splinters. Not dust.
Nothing.
The classroom was dead silent.
Ann-Katrin's expression remained neutral, but something flickered in her eyes. Respect. Or possibly concern.
"Acceptable," she said. "Return to your seat."
Arthur walked back, passing Silver's row again. This time, he didn't acknowledge him at all.
He didn't need to.
The demonstration had said everything.
This is what I can do to targets. This is what I will do to you. Eventually.
Silver kept his breathing steady, his expression carefully neutral.
Behind him, Ada's essence flickered—just for a moment—before she suppressed it.
The year had just gotten significantly more dangerous.