The bell echoed softly through the corridor as students began pouring out of the classrooms. Ezra walked calmly through the arched stone halls of ESA’s western wing, his gait unhurried, his presence composed.
By his side walked Renji, hands folded behind his head, slightly grinning.
"That was so interesting, man," Renji said, breaking the silence. "I really love strategic and history classes. Professor Vane’s voice might be dry, but the content? Fire."
Ezra didn’t respond immediately. His eyes lingered briefly on a window—the sunlight casting pale gold across the academy’s old marble pillars.
In truth, history had always interested him. Even in his past life, as a science major, history was something he respected. Strategy and patterns of old wars often revealed more about humanity than numbers ever could.
"Agreed," he said at last. "It was... well-structured."
Renji chuckled. "That’s your version of ’fun class,’ huh?"
Ezra didn’t answer. But Renji had grown used to that.
They walked a few steps before Renji brought up something more unexpected.
"Hey... Ezra, do you know much about the Oni?"
Ezra’s steps slowed for a moment. "Somewhat. Not deeply. But as a swordsman, I’ve read about their legacy. They produced many masters in the past... before the demons came."
Renji’s voice lowered, almost conspiratorial. "I read they were all wiped out during that first war. But there are still rumors that some Oni survived, hiding in remote places... watching."
Ezra’s expression didn’t change.
"All false," he said. "Officially, they were erased in the first wave. No living records. No confirmed sightings. Only... legend."
"Yeah," Renji mumbled, almost disappointed.
But Ezra’s mind lingered on the thought longer than he let on.
"The Oni never appeared in the novel. Not even once... No history, no descendants. For a race once hailed as the sword-bearers of the world... they disappeared too cleanly."
He pushed the thought aside—for now—and let his mind drift toward Xavier.
In the past week, he had tried all method to approach Xavier. But even with all that method ... one thing didn’t change.
Xavier was avoiding him.
Not just casually intentionally. No matter how Ezra tried to approach, talk, or casually start a conversation... Xavier dodged him. Day by day, he was growing quieter, more isolated, and more distant.
"I have to talk to him. Tonight." Ezra thought.
The pair turned a corner in the corridor—and walked right into a familiar group.
Marcus, with Dalen, Dravis, Lyria, and Evelyne walking beside him. Their group slowed as they noticed Ezra approaching.
Lyria, always confident, waved gently. "Ezra."
Ezra returned the gesture with a formal smile. "Good afternoon, Miss Aetherhart. You’re as beautiful as ever."
’Damn this polite habit,’ he thought.
Lyria smiled, brushing a lock of silver hair back. "No need for formality, Ezra. We’re classmates, aren’t we?"
Ezra gave a slight nod. "If you say so... Lyria."
She blinked, surprised by the sudden use of her first name—and then smiled with a hint of blush.
Dalen, standing nearby, clenched his fists slightly.
Ezra, unfazed, turned to Evelyne Grace. "It’s good to see you as well, Miss Grace."
She nodded, hesitantly. "Likewise, Ezra..."
Then came Marcus. Standing silent. Watching him.
Ezra turned toward him, his voice cool. "Yes?"
Marcus hesitated, then stepped forward. "Can we talk?"
It wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t even the tenth.
Ezra had ignored him for a week.
But today... something shifted.
Ezra tilted his head, considering.
Marcus’s face brightened instantly. "Then let’s go—"
"Not here," Ezra interrupted.
Marcus blinked. "What?"
"I said... not here," Ezra repeated. "Do you know where Blue House Dorm is?"
"Then come there. At 10:00 PM tonight."
Marcus frowned. "Ten? For what?"
"You’ll understand when you arrive," Ezra replied. Then glanced around, noticing the others watching curiously. "You can bring your friends if it makes you more comfortable."
Without another word, he walked past them.
Renji followed, wide-eyed. Dalen stepped toward Marcus.
"You sure about this?" Dalen asked, low and tense. "I still don’t trust him. Something feels off."
Marcus looked down, then back up. "He wouldn’t hurt me."
Dalen narrowed his eyes. "You’re forgetting this is Ezra Celestrian. The same guy who tore through you in ten minutes."
"This is a school, not a battlefield," Marcus replied, more to himself than Dalen. "I trust him."
Dalen crossed his arms, reluctant. "Fine. Then I’m coming with you."
Marcus nodded. "Anyone else?"
Dravis shrugged. "Wouldn’t miss it."
Evelyne quietly said, "I’ll go."
Lyria smiled faintly. "Obviously, I’m in."
Marcus exhaled. "Alright then. Meet outside the dorm at 9:30 PM. We’ll take the internal train there together."
The office of Professor Kael Arkezen didn’t look like it belonged in the prestigious halls of ESA.
It was large, certainly. Spacious and well-lit. But instead of research notes and magical tomes, it was... chaotic.
Bright neon lights strung across the ceiling. Posters of ancient wars next to manga pinups. Half-built contraptions lay scattered across tables. A sword rack in one corner, a plush beanbag in another. In the center, sprawled across a luxurious chair with one leg hanging off the armrest, was Kael Arkezen—ranked instructor, battle-hardened war mage, and ESA’s least conventional professor.
He was holding a brightly colored comic book in one hand, laughing so hard his chair creaked.
"Hahaha! Look at this guy’s face! He seriously thought confessing with a fireball behind him was romantic?!"
A voice broke through the laughter.
"What’s so funny about that, Senior Arkezen?"
His assistant, Rina, stood near the table, diligently setting out his lunch: a plate of grilled meat, spicy rice, and a suspiciously glowing bottle of mana cola.
Kael peeked out from behind the comic, grinning.
"It’s this new comic—Blue Heaven. Absolute comedy gold! The MC accidentally blows up a library trying to summon a love letter."
Rina sighed, massaging her temple.
"For heaven’s sake, Senpai, can’t you at least pretend to have the decorum of a professor? You’re reading children’s comics while your students are preparing for national-grade arcane exams!"
Kael clicked his tongue and tossed the book onto a growing pile beside him.
"Tch. Rina, it’s called appreciating art. Besides, I’m nurturing my inner joy. You wouldn’t understand."
She rolled her eyes and handed him a fork. "You’re nurturing laziness."
As Kael began poking at the food like a curious toddler, he suddenly perked up.
"Oh, speaking of kids..." he said, swallowing half a sausage, "that Celestrian kid invited me to the Blue House Dorm tonight."
Rina turned. "Ezra Celestrian? That quiet swordsman from Class 1-D?"
Kael nodded lazily. "Yeah. Sent me a note. Said it was important."
Rina raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know why he called you?"
Kael waved a hand. "No clue. But the way he talks, you’d think the world’s ending. Honestly, what’s with that guy... too polite, too quiet. He even bows in perfect angle while threatening people."
"Which makes him the opposite of you," Rina muttered.
Kael snorted and leaned back in his chair. "He probably just wants to learn some flashy magic trick or ask for cheat-level mana advice."
Rina crossed her arms. "And yet, you’re going."
Kael didn’t respond right away.
Instead, his eyes wandered to the window, replaying a moment from three days ago.
Three Days Ago – After Class
Ezra stood at the edge of the training field. The class had just ended, students leaving, mana particles still thick in the air.
Kael was whistling to himself, heading toward the staff wing when Ezra’s voice called out.
Kael turned, half-expecting a dull question about spell efficiency. "Yeah? What’s up, kid? I don’t do make-up exams, by the way."
Ezra’s eyes were calm. Focused.
Kael blinked. "...What?"
"There’s something wrong with Xavier Quinn. I believe... he may have been exposed to miasma."
That caught Kael off guard. "The hell? Miasma? Here?"
Ezra nodded. "His behavior has changed drastically. Emotionally unstable. Power spikes. Spiritual corrosion signs."
Kael frowned. "You sure it’s not just puberty?"
Ezra didn’t even flinch. "This is serious, Professor. I’ve seen people rot from the inside because no one noticed."
Kael raised a hand. "Okay, okay. Time out. Miasma’s no joke. But it doesn’t just appear inside ESA. We’ve got shields, detection wards, and three spiritual cleansing towers."
Kael looked at him, half-annoyed, half-curious. "What do you want from me?"
Ezra stepped forward slightly.
"I want you to observe him. Tonight. Quietly. No interference. Just your eyes."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "You’re asking me to spy?"
Ezra nodded. "If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize. If I’m right... we might be standing on a ticking curse bomb."
Kael chuckled. "You really think I’d leave my chair just because some gloomy genius with nice hair tells me there’s a ghost in the system?"
"I think... you’ll come because you’ve seen what miasma can do. You’ve fought on the frontlines. You know what happens when it’s ignored."
Kael didn’t laugh this time.
Ezra took one final step forward.
"I’m not asking you to believe me. I’m asking you to watch. Alone. No assistants. No records. Just your instincts."
He turned to walk away, then added:
Rina was still watching him. "So... are you going or not?"
Kael groaned like a dying cat.
"Ughhhhhh... I guess."
He flopped sideways, then lazily reached for his mana cola, missed it, and just stared at the ceiling instead.
"I was supposed to nap between lunch and dinner... This is cutting into my sacred ’horizontal time.’"
Rina raised an eyebrow. "You mean your second nap?"
"Don’t put labels on my life," Kael muttered, chewing without chewing.
She crossed her arms. "So what made you change your mind? You said you weren’t interested."
Kael groaned again, dramatically.
"Exactly! That’s what’s weird!"
He suddenly sat upright—well, kind of. More like he slid into a half-slouch.
"I mean, seriously, why the hell would a kid like Ezra Celestrian want me? I don’t teach swords. I don’t mentor. I don’t socialize. I don’t even remember what class he’s in. I fake half my lectures with illusion magic!"
Rina blinked. "Wait, what?!"
"You heard nothing," he said, sipping from his mana cola like a criminal hydrating before court.
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