Spring arrived.
Amidst the riot of blossoms around Vincent's hut, Shirone awaited his enrollment day. Magic school was a family triumph, so Vincent told no one—he refused to let gossip harm his son.
Shirone was grateful. His father had even declined the Ozent family's offer of a city home, all to shield him from noble scrutiny.
Time flew, and soon the day came.
As steward Temuran waited by the carriage, Shirone bid his parents farewell.
"Father, I'll return soon. I'll write often."
"That's my boy! Work hard! Now, a kiss!"
"Ugh!" Shirone recoiled. At seventeen, he was too old for cheek kisses.
"No more kisses…"
"Tch! Then I'll kiss you!"
"Nngh—" Shirone's neck turtled as Vincent's thick lips approached—only for his father to plant a warm peck on his forehead and pull him close.
"Shirone, I'm proud of you."
"Father…" Shirone hugged him back fiercely. Their love steeled him against the fears of a noble school.
"I'll return."
With his usual farewell, he left. Temuran bowed.
"Let's depart. I'll escort you to the school."
"Thank you."
Silence filled the carriage. Though their roles had reversed in two years, Shirone hadn't forgotten how Temuran had defended him against Head Steward Louis's schemes.
At the school gates, Temuran ushered him out with extra formality—nobles' eyes were everywhere.
"Tuition and materials will be paid through me. Focus only on your studies."
Shirone bowed. "Thank you, Steward."
"I'm merely doing my duty."
"But I've never properly thanked you. Your kindness got me here. I won't forget it."
"A commoner remains a commoner, no matter how high they climb. Nobles can't be surpassed." Temuran's face was stern. "Yet opportunities like this are rare. Many nobles will scorn you. Endure it. If you persevere… there is an end."
Wise words from an orphan-turned-steward. Truth was simple: endure, and you'll reach the finish.
"I'll become a mage. I swear it."
Temuran smiled—his first in two years. "Then follow me. You're enrolled as the Ozent family's guest under 'special admissions.' I'll introduce you."
The same guards from five years ago stood at the gates. Whether they were the ones who'd chased him off didn't matter—their role hadn't changed.
"State your business."
"This is Shirone, newly enrolled. Here's his admission letter and the Ozent family's certification."
The guard paled at the documents. Anyone crossing this threshold was no ordinary commoner.
"An honor to serve you. I'm Marco, gatekeeper. We'll meet again."
The night-and-day treatment left Shirone uneasy, but he was no longer a child.
"Likewise."
Temuran turned to him. "I'll take my leave. Contact me if you need anything."
With the documents in hand, Shirone stepped forward as a student.
"Loyalty."
As he returned the salute and crossed the threshold, his heart threatened to burst.
Alpheas Magic School.
What would he learn here, in the cradle of geniuses? Who would he meet?
The towering buildings seemed to welcome him like giants.
The School's Scale
The school sprawled over 75.425 square kilometers—an entire mountain. Twenty-two buildings (including dorms) and forty training grounds dotted the campus. With 420 students and 32 teachers, it was undeniably the kingdom's finest institution.
Inside the admissions hall, radiant students bustled about. While waiting, Shirone studied the curriculum on the walls.
Highly systematic.
The school used a "Class Ten" system:
Classes 10–8: Beginner tierClasses 7–4: Advanced tierClasses 3–1: Graduation tier (only 10 of 30 students graduated yearly)
Just ten? With annual exams, twenty talents failed each year.
"So you're Shirone."
He turned to see Alpheas, unchanged from five years ago. Bowing, Shirone remembered this was the man who'd ignited his dream.
"Hello. I'm Shirone."
"We've met, haven't you? Do you recall?"
How could he forget?
"Yes. Thank you for that day."
"Good. We'll talk later. For now, follow me. You have an entrance test."
"A test?!" Shirone panicked. He'd learned nothing yet!
"Relax. It's just for class placement. Can you enter the Spirit Zone?"
"Yes."
"Hooh."
Opening the Zone alone was rare, but Alpheas remained wary. He'd delayed Shirone's admission to spare him embarrassment—most entrants were under ten, with none older than fourteen. At seventeen, Shirone was an outlier.
I'll have to teach him from scratch. A shame. Had he started earlier…
Alpheas led him past the testing hall (still busy with younger kids) toward the classrooms.
Shirone's jaw dropped.
Even the beginner-tier classrooms defied reality. A girl floated four stories high, debating through a window. Another read three books simultaneously in midair.
Alpheas smirked at his awe. This is another world.
In Class 7, the students were older. No tricks—just razor-sharp focus.
"Sub-zero atmospheric convection energy? Why not just condense a refrigerant?"
"But that lacks reversibility. What if we invert the energy's direction while rotating the time axis—?"
Shirone's confidence wavered. He grasped the topics but not the details.
A door blasted off its hinges as a girl staggered out, hands clamped over her ears. The students barely glanced up—clearly a routine occurrence.
"Headmaster! Hello!" She bounded over.
"Hoho. Trouble?"
"Sound amplification experiment. The output circuit failed. Back to the drawing board!"
"Balance input and output. Equalize the electrical flow."
"Got it!" Adjusting her glasses, she dashed back inside.
Peeking in, Shirone saw kids debating over intricate magic circles.
I've entered another universe.
He realized how small his world had been. Here, everyone was like him.
A leaderboard displayed advanced-tier rankings. Class 4's top spot read: "Karmis Amy."
The Karmis family?
Thanks to his Ozent connections, Shirone knew the name—Creas City's highest-ranked noble house.
Impressive.
Overwhelmed but electrified, he craved the challenge.
"Hey! Amy! Let's go!"
Shirone spun around.
Amy—the #1 student!
His pulse spiked as he spotted a pretty redhead hugging a stack of books.
"Huh?"
For some reason, his heart raced faster.
Trauma. The emotion hit her before the memory did. Only after a long moment did she finally recall who that girl was.
The child she'd met in the back alleys five years ago.