Luke and his group—Sebastian, Kayson, and Victoria—left the inn shortly after dawn. Unlike the past few nights spent in the wilderness, a proper bed had left most of them feeling refreshed.

  Luke, however, was an exception. A dull headache throbbed at the back of his skull, and had they not been required to report to the Academy in the morning, he could have easily slept until noon.

  It reminded him of the exhaustion he’d felt when he first accepted the Spear Proficiency from the system. But for some reason, this time, it was much worse.

  They walked through the stone-paved streets of the capital, heading toward the Academy on the city's eastern side. The streets were quieter than the day before, but Luke couldn't ignore how many people were living in squalor on the streets, wrapped in filthy cloth blankets.

  The back alleys reeked of human waste, a stark contrast to the kingdom’s supposed wealth. The sight was proof that prosperity did not extend to all its citizens.

  Luke felt a pang of pity, but he knew there was little he could do in his current position. And even if he had the means, would money truly change their fates?

  A short distance ahead, he spotted a mother and child huddled against the wall of a building. The boy couldn’t have been older than five. Both were gaunt, their faces hollow from hunger, their bodies caked in dirt.

  Luke’s chest tightened.

  It was an all-too-common sight. With so many men sent off to war, families were left behind to fend for themselves. In theory, the kingdom provided compensation, but judging by the suffering before him, it wasn’t nearly enough.

  He approached them and reached into his bag, pulling out what little dry rations he had left from their travels. The woman tensed immediately, clutching her child tightly, her wary eyes watching him.

  But the moment she saw the wrapped food in his hands, her expression crumbled.

  “It’s not much, but it should last you a few days. If the jerky’s too tough, boil it into a soup,” Luke said softly, placing the bundle in her trembling hands.

  He didn’t wait for a response. Recognition wasn’t his goal. He simply needed to remind himself that he still had some humanity left.

  Even after killing thousands of men, he could still be kind.

  No, it wouldn’t erase the horrors he had committed in the name of war. But if a small act of kindness could bring even a shred of hope to someone, then why wouldn’t he do it?

  When he rejoined the group, no one spoke of what had happened. Yet he caught the small, approving smile on Sebastian’s face. The old man looked... proud.

  They soon reached their destination. Much like the academy in Clayton City, the Royal Academy was fortified with soldiers, its security airtight.

  But that was where the similarities ended.

  Even from the gates, towering stone buildings dominated the landscape. Yet, what stood out most was the imposing white backdrop of the mountain face behind them. It loomed over the academy and the capital itself, making even the grandest structures seem insignificant in its shadow.

  As they approached the gate, the soldiers stood at attention, their hands gripping their spears in silent warning.

  “I have a signed recommendation letter from the Left Minister,” Luke said, stepping forward. The tension in the air was palpable; these soldiers were already on edge. Agitating them further would be pointless.

  The nearest soldier took the letter, giving it a brief scan before raising his gaze. “You’ll need to fill out a registration form for yourselves and your servants,” he stated, handing the document back.

  With a curt gesture, he motioned toward the small administrative building attached to the gate and led them inside.

  As they walked, Luke noticed several soldiers stealing glances at their group, whispering amongst themselves. He didn’t need to hear their words to know who they were talking about.

  A sense of foreboding settled in his gut.

  Victoria was far too beautiful. If common soldiers were openly ogling her and gossiping, what about the noble heirs inside the Royal Academy?

  With her status as a servant, they would have free rein to do as they pleased. He wasn’t worried for Victoria’s safety—she could handle herself—but he knew exactly what would happen if she lashed out.

  As Kayson’s servant, any trouble she caused would inevitably fall on him.

  Luke frowned, only snapping out of his thoughts when the soldier behind the desk slid a stack of paperwork toward him.

  ‘I’m really going to have to do this, huh…’ he thought wryly, suppressing a sigh.

  The forms took about ten minutes to complete, and by the time he finished, Luke’s face had gone pale, as if he had just made a terrible mistake.

  The soldier took the documents and disappeared into the back room. When he returned, he carried two silver pendants and two bronze ones. Luke took them, noting the letter M engraved on the front.

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  “Head inside and report to the northernmost building,” the soldier said flatly. “One of the instructors will escort you to your dormitories.”

  With that, the group entered the Royal Academy and headed north.

  The moment they stepped inside, the difference was stark. It was like an entirely separate city within the capital. The streets were spotless, the buildings well-maintained, and the perfectly manicured gardens gave the place an air of refined wealth.

  Yet Luke barely noticed any of it.

  He was too busy cursing himself for making such a rash and—he was now realizing—completely idiotic decision earlier.

  “What’s wrong, brother? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Kayson asked, eyeing him with concern.

  Luke grumbled under his breath at first, but he knew he’d have to tell them eventually. Better to get it over with now, while they were alone, rather than when their dorm assignments were finalized.

  He exhaled sharply. “Sebastian will be your servant, and Victoria will pose as mine.”

  His words had an immediate effect.

  Sebastian looked horrified. Kayson, on the other hand, pumped his fists in victory. Victoria tilted her head slightly before a small, almost imperceptible smile crept onto her lips.

  “Y-Young master!” Sebastian stammered, his panic evident. “I know you have feelings for Miss Victoria, but why—why would you put me in service to this man?!”

  Luke froze, his face heating with both annoyance and embarrassment. His gaze flickered toward Victoria, who was giggling behind a delicate hand, her amusement only making the situation worse.

  “Sebastian! That’s enough,” he announced, his voice firmer than before.

  Stepping in closer, he lowered his voice and explained his reasoning. “First, we’re in unfamiliar territory. Every noble here has a monstrous background, and even the slightest offense could have severe consequences.”

  He turned to Kayson. “With your lineage, anything you or your servant does will reflect on your father, Viscount Diego. If Victoria were involved in any incident, it wouldn’t just be her who faced repercussions—it would be you, and by extension, your family.”

  Then, his gaze shifted to Victoria. “You’re going to attract unwanted attention because of your looks. And since you’re a servant, they won’t treat you with any respect. It’s highly likely that some of them will try to force themselves on you.”

  “They can try,” Victoria said coldly, her gaze darkening.

  Luke sighed, rubbing his temples. “Yes… And when you inevitably defend yourself, it will cause a major stir.”

  Sebastian’s brows furrowed in frustration. “Young master… if you know this, then why make the change? You’re already a target because of your commoner status. You’ve only made things harder for yourself.”

  Luke shook his head. “You’re forgetting something. I am the creator of gunpowder. Right now, the King believes I’m the only one with the knowledge to produce it. Do you really think he’ll forgive anyone who tries to harm me in public?”

  Kayson, who had been silently absorbing the conversation, finally spoke. His earlier excitement was gone. “Didn’t you say you were in danger? Even inside the Royal Academy? You’re contradicting yourself.”

  “No,” Luke corrected. “I said no one will make a move on the surface. At least, nothing drastic. That doesn’t mean they won’t try more subtle ways to get to me.”

  Sebastian took a step forward, his voice firm. “Which is exactly why I should have been your servant. I could have protected you.”

  There was an authority in his words—one that might have led an outsider to believe he was the master.

  A sharp glint flickered in Victoria’s brown eyes. “Are you saying I’m not capable of protecting Luke, old man?”

  The air turned thick with tension.

  Victoria stood poised like a panther, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. Sebastian, in contrast, was like an immovable bull, powerful and unyielding.

  Luke sighed, stepping between them. “Okay, that’s enough. The registration is finalized—there’s no changing it now.”

  For a moment, he wasn’t sure if his words would be enough to defuse the situation. But after a long pause, Sebastian exhaled heavily, the tension finally dissipating.

  “Young woman, please look after my young master,” he said, his voice resigned.

  Victoria gave a slight nod, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take very good care of him.”

  She winked at Luke.

  A shiver ran down his spine.

  Shaking off the uneasy feeling, he turned sharply on his heel. “Come on, let’s go meet the instructor.”

  Without waiting for a response, he led the way north.

  A few minutes later, they arrived at a square nestled between four identical buildings. The open ground was surrounded by carefully maintained gardens and ornate sculptures.

  Luke’s gaze landed on a familiar figure—another statue of the King. Judging by the craftsmanship, it was likely sculpted by the same artist who had created the one in Clayton City.

  Once again, he found himself scrutinizing the finer details, only to grimace. No matter how well-crafted, the King still looked utterly distasteful.

  The image of Jabba the Hutt surfaced in his mind. The were many similarities.

  “You there, what is your business at the Royal Academy?”

  A deep voice interrupted his thoughts.

  Luke turned to see a tall man approaching, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. He appeared to be in his late thirties, dressed in an elegant yet practical robe. But despite the fine clothing, Luke immediately recognized a fighter when he saw one.

  Every step the man took was measured, his balance impeccable. Luke could almost see him wielding a sword in his mind’s eye, each movement precise and deliberate.

  The sudden vision startled him.

  ‘Is this because of my newfound sword proficiency?’ he wondered, intrigued.

  Pushing the thought aside, he composed himself and stepped forward. “May I ask, are you the instructor? We were told to report to the north side of the campus. My companion and I are new admissions to the Royal Academy.”

  The man’s sharp green eyes swept over the group, assessing them one by one. His expression was unreadable.

  He had sword-shaped eyebrows, a drooping mustache, and a neatly trimmed goatee. Though his eyes were dull in color, there was a cutting intensity behind his gaze, like a sword waiting to be unsheathed.

  “I am Master Hail, the sword instructor.” He extended a hand. “Show me your pendants.”

  Luke and Kayson obliged without hesitation, handing over the silver pendants they had received earlier.

  Master Hail inspected them briefly before nodding. “Which noble houses do you hail from?”

  Luke had expected this question. He had never planned on hiding his status—there were far too many well-connected students at the Academy for any deception to go unnoticed.

  “This is Kayson Diego, son of Viscount Diego,” Luke said simply. “And I am Luke Drakon, a commoner.” He bowed slightly out of respect.

  He deliberately left out Sebastian and Victoria from the introductions. Servants had no place in this conversation.

  Master Hail’s eyes flickered with interest. His hand moved to his goatee, stroking it thoughtfully.

  “I find it curious that you were able to gain entry into the Royal Academy, Luke Drakon.”

  Stepping forward, he scrutinized Luke even more closely, his gaze sharp and searching.

  “At first glance, you seem… unremarkable. But there is—how do I put it?—a certain air about you.” He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “Something dangerous.”

  His words sent a small ripple of unease through Luke.

  “I’m not sure what you mean, Master Hail,” he replied evenly, though the thorough inspection made him a little uncomfortable.

  “Yes, yes,” Master Hail said, waving a hand dismissively. “I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see for myself.”

  He turned abruptly. “Come. I’ll show you to your rooms.”

  Luke exhaled softly in relief.

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