Harsh, blinding sunlight scorched through the towering office windows, throwing long, dramatic pillars of light across the room. Yet, the brilliance was immediately cut down by a massive shadow stretching across the floorboards. The shadow belonged to the man standing rigidly behind the pane.
Headmaster Ivanor stood with his hands clasped tightly behind his back, his fingers interlaced in a quiet, unbreakable knot. Through the glass, his unblinking gaze lingered on the lone cadet walking far below on the academy grounds—distant, micro-sized, and utterly unreadable. Ivanor looked less like a man watching an outcast leave and more like a ruler carrying the heavy, calculated weight of an unspoken execution.
"Is this truly right, Headmaster?"
Instructor Sophiana stood a few paces behind him, clutching a thick stack of disciplinary documents against her chest. Her elegant features were tight with doubt, her voice strained.
"What?" Ivanor’s cold voice cut through the air, entirely devoid of emotion.
"That boy’s eyes... they were full of nothing but pure hatred and absolute emptiness," she spoke softly, a chill running down her spine as she remembered Vale’s parting glare. "You know exactly what happens to children who are pushed into that kind of darkness."
Ivanor let out a short, mocking breath. "What? Do you honestly believe a magicless defect like him has the capability to become a rogue or a legendary assassin?" He paused for a brief moment, his jaw tightening. "That defective piece of product won’t even survive a single week outside these walls."
"But—!"
"Sophiana." Ivanor’s voice dropped to a freezing octave, instantly silencing her. He didn’t turn around. "This Hercius Academy is recognized as one of the top three elite academies in the entire Vinescia Empire. Do you know why?"
Sophiana exhaled a shallow breath, desperately trying to compose her rattled nerves. "It is because of our historical dominance in the Grand Spire Colloquium."
"Yes... the Grand Spire Colloquium." As Ivanor spoke the words, his tone grew distant, almost reverent. "That tournament paved our way. It built our foundation."
His gaze tracked the tiny, stumbling figure of Vale crossing the outer courtyard. "Recognition, imperial position, and an untouchable reputation. Because of the Colloquium, this academy holds the exact same political sovereignty as the Holy Church itself."
Sophiana clamped her mouth shut. She knew there was no other choice. Standing firmly on the cold floor, she could only listen as the harsh reality of the empire was laid bare.
To the public, the Grand Spire Colloquium was treated as a majestic, legendary tournament. One hundred elite students—twenty prodigies chosen from five rival academies—were thrust into an uncharted dungeon, their desperate survival broadcasted live to the empire. It was a festival of roaring crowds, flashing banners, and magical geniuses clashing for glory.
But behind the illusion of survival, the cheers, and the blood-soaked sweat, the tournament was nothing more than a meat grinder designed to secure imperial resources, massive funding, and noble positions.
"You know this has all been a staged show from the very beginning," Sophiana whispered, her voice thick with a mixture of intense guilt and absolute powerlessness. "You know exactly who is pulling the strings behind everything, don’t you?"
"Perhaps," Ivanor replied, his shadow shifting as he slightly turned his head. "But it doesn’t matter. A dead defect cannot cause trouble for our future."
On the dirt path below, the walk was an absolute agony. Dragging a battered body covered in bruised, ruptured wounds from the fireball’s shockwave, I moved in a skeptical, uneven manner. My vision blurred, my knees buckling with every three steps, forcing me to stumble forward on sheer, raw willpower.
Frustration boiled in my chest at the pathetic
limitations of this fragile shell.
’In my past life, I died because I saved a kid from oncoming traffic,’ I thought, casting my eyes upward, silently pleading to whatever gods ruled this godforsaken world. ’Could you please grant me just a shred of decent luck for once?’
Finally, the grand golden gates of the academy loomed ahead—the definitive exit point separating the elite from the discarded. I stopped, standing before the iron threshold for a full minute to catch my breath.
But before I could take my final step out, I noticed a figure leaning casually against the stone framework of the gate. He carried an entirely careless, relaxed expression. Sensing my approach, the boy straightened up and walked toward me, his face morphing into a gentle, familiar smile.
"Hey, Vale."
’Kail?!’ My mind raced. ’Why isn’t he in the lecture halls? Did he actually come all the way down here just to say goodbye to a magicless exile?’
I forced my aching arm up, gently waving my hand. "Hi, Kail."
Kail stopped a few paces in front of me, his eyes scanning my broken state. "So, how is it?"
The vague question didn’t ring a single bell. Confusion clouded my mind, and I stared at the only guy I thought had my back in the
classroom. "How is what...?"
"Pfft—hahaha! Hahaha!"
Kail suddenly burst into a wild, hysterical fit of laughter. He laughed so hard his shoulders shook, and he had to use the back of his hand to wipe away the happy tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
"Haa... you really still don’t understand, do you?" Kail paused, his posture suddenly snapping into a dead, eerie stillness. The gentle warmth vanished from his expression. "Well... then again, how could a fool like you ever figure it out?"
Reacting to the sudden, manic shift, I instinctively took a step back, my muscles coiling. ’Has this guy completely lost his mind?’
Kail waved his hand dismissively, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry, sorry. I just never realized you were actually this much of an idiot."
A thick vein bulged against my temple. The insult stung, but I tightly clamped down on my reckless instincts, forcing myself to stay grounded because I had genuinely considered him a friend in this hellhole.
"You know what, Vale?" Kail continued, stepping closer, his voice entirely devoid of its usual timidness. "You knew damn well you were being framed, yet back there in the council chambers, you just stood there and practically gave up on everything."
I reached down to my satchel, pulling out a small skin of water. I uncorked it, taking a slow, steady drink to soothe my parched throat. "Is there any point in wasting my breath arguing with a council that had already decided to hang me?"
Kail tilted his head, his eyes glinting with a sharp, nonchalant cruelty. "Don’t you even want to know who framed you?"
"No," I said flatly, wiping my mouth. "It doesn’t matter anymore."
"It was me," Kail said casually, his tone as light as if he were reporting the morning weather. "I’m the one who framed you with the visual orb."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
My mind went entirely blank. My fingers instantly lost their grip, and the water skin slipped from my hand, crashing against the dirt as the contents burst out, soaking into the mud.
"What... what did you just say?!" I stammered, my voice cracking in absolute disbelief.
Kail’s smile widened, but there was nothing gentle about it anymore. It was the wide, frantic excitement of a maniac, written in sharp lines across his face.
"Ah, sorry, sorry!" he giggled, thoroughly amused by my shattered expression.
Driven by a sudden surge of adrenaline, I lunged forward, my fingers clutching his sleeve with immense force. "You... why? Why the hell would you do this to me?!"
Kail didn’t panic. With a terrifyingly smooth motion, he grabbed my extended arm, completely neutralizing my weak grip. Before I could register his movement, he stepped inside my guard, placing his leg firmly behind mine and driving his shoulder into my chest.
/THUD/
Lacking any mana to stabilize myself, I crashed heavily onto the hard dirt.Kail stood over me, looking down at my fallen, bruised form with narrowed, merciless eyes.
"Did you seriously just ask "why?" He irked his head to the side, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Honestly? Because it was fun."
I stared up at him from the mud, the reality refusing to sink in. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that the quiet, unremarkable boy who sat next to me in the back row was the architect behind my entire ruin.
"I... I genuinely thought of you as a friend," I whispered, the words tasting like ash.
Kail burst into another round of mocking laughter, stepping over my legs. "A friend? To you?! What, just because we had a little small talk in the infirmary while you were recovering?"
To Kail, that conversation had been an insignificant, throwaway interaction. But to the Vale, who had suffered through years of systemic prejudice, isolation, and hatred, that single moment of perceived kindness had been a one-in-a-million lifeline.
"So that’s all it was," he muttered, his voice dropping into a dark, quiet resonance.
He looked up at his triumphant smirk, then slowly lowered my gaze to the dirt beneath his fingernails. "You could have just kept this hidden from me," He whispered, his hands trembling violently. It wasn’t out of fear.His fingers dug deep into the earth, clutching the wet mud into tight, white-knuckled fists. "It would have been better that way."
"What? And keep it to myself?" Kail scoffed, walking past my prone body without looking back. "That would be incredibly boring. I want my credit." He reached the threshold of the gate, throwing a lazy, sarcastic wave over his shoulder. "Have a good journey ahead... ’my friend’
A hollow, breathless sound escaped my throat.
"Haha..."
He let out a profoundly bitter, self-deprecating laugh. "How incredibly naive... am I."
His gaze locked onto the retreating figure of Kail. A heavy, white-hot hatred burned in my chest, a quiet vow that he would remember this betrayal even if I were dragged to the very gates of death. That smile, sociopathic face was permanently carved into my mind, a deep psychological scar that would never fade.
But neither of them were truly alone.
Behind the thick trunk of an old oak tree just inside the gate, a pair of wide, trembling eyes had witnessed the entire exchange.
A lone person stood paralyzed in the shadows, her hands tightly gripping her uniform skirt. Her chest heaved, burning with a volatile mixture of explosive anger and complete, suffocating helplessness.
Looking at his broken, dirt-covered figure on the road, a tear slipped past her goggles, her soft voice with agonizing whisper.
"Vale..."