Monday morning.

  Ethan was walking toward css, half-awake, mentally reviewing the rune list from yesterday’s lesson. The campus was still quiet, the air crisp, sunlight just beginning to burn off the chill.

  Then something cold pressed against his throat.

  His entire body froze.

  A sword.

  A very real, very sharp sword.

  “Any st words, Half-Demon?” a calm, gravelly voice said from behind him.

  Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. His legs nearly gave out. That voice—he recognized it instantly.

  “P-Principal Thorne!?” he choked out, unable to even turn his head. “W-Wait! I’m human! I swear I’m human!”

  “Hmph.” The Principal stepped into view, lowering the bde only slightly, but his steel-gray eyes stayed fixed on Ethan like a hawk. “Look in the mirror, boy. You expect me to believe a human has that eye?”

  Ethan opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “It’s Professor Alric’s fault!”

  The Principal’s eyes narrowed. “Expin.”

  “I—I lost my eye st week,” Ethan said quickly. “Professor Alric couldn’t find a human repcement, so he… he put a demon eye in instead. Said it was fine. Said it wouldn’t do anything weird!”

  For a few seconds, silence hung thick in the air. The Principal didn’t look entirely convinced.

  “If you’re lying,” he said ftly, “you’ll pay dearly for it.”

  Ethan nodded like his life depended on it—which it probably did.

  Still gripping the sword, Garrick Thorne turned and jerked his chin. “Let’s go.”

  Minutes ter, they entered the infirmary. Professor Alric was at his usual counter, fiddling with something in a jar that absolutely did not look sanitary.

  Without looking up, the old professor said, “Oh. Ethan. Is the eye giving you trouble?”

  Ethan blinked. “Trouble? Ha. You could say it almost got me killed!”

  That got Professor Alric’s attention. He looked up, actually startled, thinking the eye had some undetected defect and wishing for more information. “What? How?”

  Ethan gave a dry ugh and pointed at his own neck. “Almost got my head lopped off. Apparently, fshing a golden demon eye around town doesn’t go over well with adventurers.”

  Understanding dawned in Alric’s expression, followed by a sigh that was equal parts exasperated and amused. “Ah. That.” he muttered. “Right. I suppose that would count as a side effect.”

  “What the hell were you thinking, Alric?” the Principal snapped, stepping forward and finally sheathing his sword—but only after giving Ethan one st cautionary gnce. “Isn’t teaching Dark Magic under the radar already enough? Now you’re sticking a demon’s eye in a student!?”

  Professor Alric raised a brow, completely unbothered. “It's not a demon's eye, it's a half-demon's eye. And it was necessary.”

  “Necessary?” Garrick barked. “The boy’s walking around looking like he crawled out of a forbidden summoning circle! That’s going to raise questions! Not just from the Adventurer's guild, but the Royal Guard!”

  “Was I supposed to leave the boy blind!? The boy doesn’t have twenty gold coins to conjure a brand new eye out of thin air,” Professor Alric said dryly. “I had to work with what I had—and of everything in my collection, this was the only one compatible.”

  Garrick’s frown deepened. “Compatible, my ass. There’s no way—”

  “Curses,” Professor Alric cut in. “He has eight of them, if not more. His body is riddled with Miasma. Any other eye would have been rejected. Trust me, I tried. The only one that didn’t react badly was that half-demon specimen.”

  Garrick looked like he wanted to argue again, but his lips pressed into a tight line.

  Meanwhile, Ethan stood awkwardly between the two, gncing toward the clock. Then the bell rang, loud and shrill, signaling the start of the first css.

  He cleared his throat and raised a timid hand. “Um… can I go to css now?”

  Professor Alric waved him off with a dismissive gesture. “Go, go. You’re fine. If it starts glowing, just come back.”

  “Glowing!?”

  “Joking.” Maybe.

  Ethan didn’t wait to find out. He quickly slipped past the two men, eager to get anywhere else.

  As he walked down the hallway, trying to shake off the morning chaos, he could still hear the two behind him:

  “You can’t just stick demon parts into children like it’s patchwork!”

  “Oh please. You stuck a sword into one st year just to ‘test his reflexes.’”

  “That was different! The boy had potential!”

  “Such potential forced him to remain in bed for almost a weak! Any other healer would have gave up! He was only saved because of me!”

  Their voices echoed long after Ethan turned the corner.

  By the time he reached the cssroom, he was already regretting everything about his morning. He paused at the door, took a deep breath, and knocked—once, sharply.

  The room went quiet as all eyes turned to him.

  The Spellcasting Theory professor raised his head from his notes, eyes narrowing slightly. “You're te.”

  Ethan bowed his head in shame. “Sorry, Professor. I was... called by the Principal.”

  That expnation earned him a long, skeptical stare—followed immediately by the professor’s gaze locking onto his left eye.

  “Your eye…” he muttered, frowning.

  “Yeah. That’s, uh, why the Principal wanted to see me,” Ethan said quickly, trying to sound casual while silently praying no one stared too hard.

  The professor squinted at him a moment longer, then shrugged.

  “Well, if you’re still alive after meeting the Principal, I suppose it’s fine. Go take your seat.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Ethan hurried to his desk, sliding into his chair as quietly as possible, though he could already feel half the css trying to figure out what the hell had happened to him.

  And with that, the lesson began.

  “Ugh. It’s way worse than I thought…” Ethan muttered under his breath, slumping a little in his seat.

  He remembered what Professor Alric had told him about half-demons. That they were hunted. Killed on sight. At the time, Ethan had assumed it was just Professor Alric being overly dramatic. But now?

  After feeling cold steel against his neck that very morning?

  Yeah. No. He’d definitely underestimated the problem.

  So that’s why everyone was staring at me all Sunday... he realized grimly, thinking back to the weird looks he kept getting while doing deliveries around town. He’d chalked it up to people recognizing him from the market—or maybe the trouble they caused. But no. It was his eye.

  Damn. Should I really use an eyepatch...?

  Just the thought of it made him groan inwardly. It felt like an admission of guilt. Like saying, Yes, I am a threat. Please don't kill me. He hadn’t done anything wrong! He should be allowed to walk around with his head held high!

  But if a misunderstanding can cost me my head...

  He rubbed his neck absently, as if the ghost of the Principal’s sword was still lingering there.

  What was the point of recovering his sight if he had to keep it covered anyway? It made the whole ordeal feel pointless. Maybe he should start saving up for a new eye after all. One that wouldn’t mark him like a target.

  Is there a lottery in this world? Ethan wondered, staring out the window.

  He sighed.

  At that exact moment, someone spped Ethan’s shoulder from behind.

  “Gah!” He practically leapt out of his chair, heart in his throat.

  “Whoa! Calm down, man!” Daniel stepped back with both hands raised, ughing. “No need to take flight like a bird! Hahahaha!”

  Ethan took a breath, slowly lowering himself back into his seat. “Oh. It’s just Daniel. Don’t sneak up on me when I’m contempting existential terror.”

  “What, were you daydreaming about the end of the world again?” Daniel grinned. “Anyway, I’ve got news. The team’s meeting at the Old Boar Inn for lunch. We’re gonna talk about Christopher’s punishment and figure out who to put in his pce.”

  Ethan blinked. “Why are you telling me this? I mean… I’m not part of the team.”

  Daniel gasped, pcing a dramatic hand on his chest. “How dare you say that? Of course there’s a good reason you should come!”

  “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

  Daniel grinned like he’d just pulled a rabbit out of a hat. “Christopher’s the one paying.”

  Ethan stood immediately, grabbing his bag. “Let’s go.”

  Daniel burst out ughing again. “Man, you move faster for free food than you do in css.”

  Ethan shrugged. “Priorities, Daniel. If you needed money as badly as I do, you’d be sprinting too.”

  “True, true,” Daniel said, still chuckling as they walked. “Can’t argue with financial desperation.”

  Arriving at the Old Boar Inn, Ethan and Daniel stepped inside to find the entire tournament team already gathered around a long wooden table.

  Christopher looked up as they approached, gesturing toward two empty seats. “I expect you don’t mind that I already ordered without waiting.”

  “Oh, no problem,” Ethan said with a grin. “You’re the one paying anyway.”

  “Ugh! Damn it, I was hoping you’d forget...” Christopher muttered, slumping forward. Then he perked up a little. “Hey, Ethan. How are you holding up?”

  Ethan gave a dry smile. “As healthy as I’ve ever been. Not bad for someone who had a sword at his throat this morning.”

  Christopher winced. “Right…? Still, thank you again. I swear, I keep having nightmares about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stepped in that night.”

  “That’s enough, Christopher,” Ethan said, holding up a hand. “You’ve already thanked me too many times. I just did what I thought was right.”

  “But even so—”

  “Oi! You two!” Kael interrupted, flicking a peanut across the table at them. “Don’t start that loop again. We’ve got limited time before css. Sit down and get to the point already.”

  “Right, right,” Christopher nodded, straightening up. “Kael’s right. Let’s get this over with.”

  Ethan took his seat as Daniel leaned in and muttered, “This feels like one of those noble war councils. Only with worse lighting and better food.”

  Ethan smirked. “At least something’s improved.”

  Ethan leaned back in his chair and raised a brow. “The food’s better? How bad can noble food be?”

  Daniel groaned. “It’s all way too exotic for my taste. I prefer simple stuff—meat slices grilled on a stick, just a little sauce, no dozen forks and knives to worry about. And for god’s sake, give me a sad where I can actually tell what’s in it!”

  Ethan burst out ughing. “Sounds tough! Hahaha!”

  Christopher cleared his throat, calling the table to order. “Alright. For those who don’t know, st week a few of Angeline’s cssmates decided to ‘py a prank’ on her.”

  His tone made it clear it was far more than that.

  “Thankfully, she was saved by my eternal friend Ethan here,” he continued, giving a nod of genuine respect. “But… due to some complications during the rescue, I ended up cutting down a dozen useless pieces of meat. And now I’m being punished for ‘doing justice with my own hands.’”

  “Not a single bit regretful?” Kael asked, amused.

  “Of course not,” Christopher said without hesitation. “Trash like that is better off dead. The faster they disappear, the less damage they cause to the city.”

  He sighed, more annoyed than remorseful.

  “Still, it's a pity that I won’t be allowed to participate in the first tournament against the Royal Academy. So… we need a repcement. Any suggestions?”

  Ravyn raised her hand, expression unreadable as usual. “From the Mage css? No one. Besides me, there isn’t a single person who can cast a proper spell under pressure. Half of them still struggle with Grade 1 spells.”

  Christopher nodded, absorbing the information.

  Kael leaned forward. “Scout css isn’t looking great either. There were a few decent picks, but they all locked themselves into teams as soon as the tournament was announced.”

  “Any chance they’d have a change of heart?” Christopher asked.

  “Nope. The forms are already in. Even if they wanted to back out, it’s too te,” Kael replied with a shrug.

  “Damn,” Daniel muttered.

  “Tournament announcement?” Ethan blinked. “When was that?”

  “Oh, right—you were unconscious when it happened. Friday morning,” Daniel said.

  “And you didn’t think to mention it up until now!?”

  “Hahahaha! Sorry! You didn’t seem all that interested st time we talked about it,” Daniel said, scratching the back of his head.

  Ethan sighed. “Fair enough. That’s on me.”

  Christopher shifted the topic again. “Warrior css is the same. The top names are all taken. We could grab someone mid-rank if we’re desperate... but I figured I’d ask the healer css first.”

  “How about Ethan?” Daniel suggested with a grin.

  Ethan snorted. “No way, man. I can help you strategize from the sidelines, but don’t push me onto the field. I’d be a dead piece out there. Can’t block, can’t chase, can’t lift anything heavier than a notebook.”

  He paused, then snapped his fingers. “Hey—how about Celica?”

  “Celica?” Daniel echoed.

  “Yeah. She’s damn good with a spear. Trained under her brother, I think? Comes from a knight family too. She’s got moves, I’m telling you.”

  Kael raised a brow. “Then what the hell is she doing in the healer css?”

  Ethan shrugged. “Don’t ask me. Ask her.”

  Kael gave an exaggerated sigh. “Man, I thought healer css was all soft magic and fragile nerves, but this year you’ve got Daniel—and now you’re telling me there’s another monster hiding in there?”

  Daniel ughed, tossing a peanut into his mouth. “Tell that to her and you’ll find out just how sharp her fangs are.”

  “Don’t say it like it’s my fault!” Ethan protested. “I’m just reporting what I’ve seen!”

  Christopher rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… sounds promising. But I’ll need to see her skills firsthand.”

  “Fair,” Ethan said with a grin. “Let’s do this, then. I’ll invite her for a test match, and you call your best backup from the warrior css. Let them duel—winner joins the team.”

  “Hahahaha! Now that’s how I like to settle things!” Daniel cheered. “And don’t worry, just tell her it’s Christopher calling her out. She’ll come running.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Christopher nodded, arms crossed. “Any objections?”

  “None,” Ravyn said curtly.

  “Nope,” Kael added with a smirk.

  “Then let’s eat before the food gets cold,” Christopher decred, picking up his utensils. “And we meet again at the arena at dusk. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” the group replied in unison, the ctter of ptes beginning as the meal—and the next challenge—settled into motion.

  Right before Geography css, Ethan spotted his target.

  Celica was sitting beneath a tree near the cssroom steps, casually flipping through her notes while chatting with Misha and Anya. All three girls looked up as he approached.

  Misha’s face instantly brightened.

  “Ethan!” she called, her voice lifting with clear delight as she stood halfway, expecting him to come over.

  But Ethan didn’t stop. He offered her only a pyful wink as he moved straight past her and came to a halt in front of Celica.

  The smile on Misha’s face faltered.

  Anya raised an eyebrow, gncing between the two, but said nothing.

  Celica looked up at him calmly. “Need something?”

  “Actually, yeah,” Ethan said, scratching the back of his head. “I wanted to talk to you about something important—has to do with the tournament.”

  Celica raised one elegant brow. “I’m not interested.”

  “Wait, wait—hear me out,” Ethan said quickly, raising a hand to stop Celica just as she began to turn away. “You’d be filling in for someone on Christopher’s team.”

  That made her pause.

  “…Lord Christopher?”

  “Yeah,” Ethan nodded. “He got disqualified from the tournament because of, well, you know what. The team needs a repcement, and your name came up.”

  “I…” Celica’s expression faltered for a moment.

  “Come on,” Ethan added with a knowing grin. “If you join, Christopher would be really grateful.”

  Her eyes lit up slightly. “Really?”

  “Absolutely! But there’s a small catch—you’ll need to duel our other candidate from the warrior css. Winner gets the spot.”

  Celica blinked once, then calmly closed her notebook. Her voice gained a subtle edge of determination. “When and where?”

  Ethan smiled, recognizing the shift. “At the arena, today at dusk. Just a friendly duel—so, y’know, try not to completely humiliate your opponent.”

  Celica stood and brushed a few flecks of dust from her skirt, nodding with cool composure. “Understood. I’ll be there.”

  Seeing the conversation wrap up, Misha stepped forward, tone gentler now. “Ethan, do you have a minute?”

  “Sure,” he said with an easy smile. “My task’s done, so of course I’m free.”

  She gave him a small nod and gestured for him to sit beside her under the tree.

  “It’s about this question here…” Misha opened her notes and leaned a little closer.

  “Hm. Let me see…” Ethan replied, his focus shifting smoothly as he scanned the page.

  As the two fell into quiet discussion, voices low and heads close, Celica and Anya exchanged a gnce.

  Celica looked thrilled—already imagining the battlefield, maybe even Christopher’s praise.

  Anya, on the other hand, offered a small, wry smile, arms crossed. Lately, it felt like everyone around her was pairing off—Misha, now maybe even Celica—and she was just... there. The loud friend. The extra. The one no guy ever seemed to look at twice. She sighed under her breath, barely audible. “If only he wasn’t engaged…”

  As soon as Geography css ended, the group naturally dispersed—some heading to the dorms, others to grab a quick bite or prep for what was coming. Ethan used the time to double-check the arena schedule (and snag a cheap snack), and as the sky turned gold and violet, he made his way back to the training grounds.

  By dusk, everyone had gathered once again at the arena...