The wheels of the carriage rattled against the stone road, signaling the end of the journey.

  The summer vacation has come and gone. The Nightmaw hunt, the training, the brief moments of peace at Ironhold, all of it was now in the rearview mirror.

  Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was quiet and intimate. Lucia sat beside Alaric, her head resting gently on his shoulder, her breathing steady and rhythmic.

  Alaric shifted slightly to make her more comfortable, staring out at the approaching skyline of the Royal Capital.

  He found himself thinking about time.

  Lucia had started her Third Year this semester. Alaric was starting his Second Year.

  Technically, Lucia was one year older than him. In the Kingdom’s education system, the Magic Academy’s curriculum was four years long, while the Knight Academy was condensed into three years of intensive training. This quirk of the system meant that despite the age gap and different start times, they were destined to graduate at the same time.

  It was a strange quirk of fate. Even though she was older and had started a year earlier, they were destined to graduate at the exact same time.

  Destiny, Alaric mused, glancing down at her silver hair.

  Alaric had never committed the sin of asking a lady her age directly. He valued his life too much but he had skimmed through enough documents while assisting Duke Thorne to know the numbers.

  As the massive walls of the Capital loomed closer, Alaric’s chest tightened with a familiar anxiety.

  Prince Lucan.

  The Crown Prince’s obsession with Lucia was a ticking time bomb. Duke Thorne had assured Alaric that he would warn the Prince to back off, and Alaric knew the Duke was a doting father who despised the idea of his daughter being a political pawn.

  But he is also a Duke, Alaric thought, his eyes darkening. If the pressure becomes too great... if the chance to make his daughter the Queen guarantees the safety of his house... can I truly trust him to hold the line?

  Power had a way of eroding even the strongest loves.

  The carriage navigated the bustling streets of the Capital, finally stopping at the intersection where they would have to part ways.

  Lucia stirred, lifting her head from his shoulder. She rubbed her eyes, blinking away the sleep, and then realized they had arrived. The softness in her expression tightened slightly. The mask was about to go back on.

  But before she opened the door, she stood up and reached into her pocket.

  "Alaric," she said softly. "Give me your hand."

  Alaric blinked but complied, extending his left hand.

  Lucia slipped a delicate bracelet onto his wrist. It was made of woven white-gold wire, pulsing with a faint, warm light.

  "What is this?" Alaric asked, examining it. It hummed with mana.

  "It houses a contracted Lesser Light Spirit," Lucia explained, her cheeks tinting pink. "I summoned it during my studies this summer. It isn't powerful enough to fight, but... because I am the contractor, it is connected to my mind and soul."

  She touched the bracelet gently.

  "If there is an emergency, I can send a signal through it. And... I can feel your mana through it. I'll know you're safe."

  Alaric looked at the bracelet, stunned. In this world, summoning magic was rare and Alaric knew she was working hard for it but to achieve that and giving someone a direct link to your soul was a gesture of immense trust.

  "This is..." Alaric swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thank you. I will cherish this with my life."

  "Don't think too much about it," Lucia said, smiling sweetly, though her eyes were shimmering.

  She leaned in and hugged him tightly, a final goodbye before they became strangers again.

  "Farewell, Alaric."

  He stepped out of the carriage and adjusted his posture, lifted her chin, and walked toward the Knight Academy district.

  Alaric carried his bags into the Knight Academy dorms. The hallways were buzzing with returning students, but his room was quiet.

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  Silan and Darsia hadn't arrived yet. But on the far bed, a familiar figure was sprawled out, snoring loudly in the middle of the afternoon sun.

  "Jarik?"

  The boy jolted awake, wiping drool from his chin. "Huh? Who— Oh! Alaric!"

  Jarik sat up, flashing his trademark grin. "Welcome back, man!"

  Alaric set his bag down, raising an eyebrow. "You're here early. The semester doesn't start until tomorrow. Why did you come back before vacation ended?"

  Jarik’s grin faltered. He looked down at his hands, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

  "Ah, well... nobody was back at the village," Jarik mumbled, his voice losing its usual energy. "Going back to an empty house... it felt too sad. Figured I'd just come here and sleep."

  Alaric paused. He looked at his roommate, the loud, cheerful class clown and saw the loneliness underneath.

  Alaric made a decision.

  "Next break," Alaric said casually as he began unpacking, "why don't you come with me to Ironhold?"

  Jarik blinked, confused. "Huh?"

  "I can ask the Duke to let you participate in the training," Alaric offered. "The food is amazing, and the knights will beat you into shape. It's better than an empty house."

  Jarik stared at him, stunned. Then, a genuine, blinding smile broke across his face.

  "Really? You'd do that? Hell yes! Thanks, Alaric!"

  The next morning, the reality of the Academy crashed down on them.

  It was the first class of the Second Year. The atmosphere in the lecture hall was suffocating. The instructor stood at the podium, unrolling a scroll with a grim expression.

  "The results of the First Year finals have been ratified," the instructor announced coldly. "As per Academy rules, the bottom five students of Section A have been demoted."

  The room went deathly silent.

  "Demoted are..."

  The instructor read the names.

  Alaric listened. Among the five was the third commoner girl who had started with them. She had struggled with the theoretical exams all year. Upon hearing her name, she buried her face in her arms, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

  Four other names were read….all nobles. They looked pale, their pride shattered in an instant.

  "Bormun," the instructor read. "Rank 10. You survive. Barely."

  Bormun let out a massive, audible exhale, clutching his chest like he was having a heart attack.

  "Now, the top ranks."

  "Rank 2... Roland."

  Roland nodded stoically, accepting his position.

  "Rank 1... Alaric."

  A ripple of shock went through the noble students. A commoner had taken the top spot. Whispers broke out, sharp glares boring into Alaric’s back, but he stared straight ahead, impassive.

  "Now, for the promotions from Section B," the instructor continued.

  The door opened. Five students walked in.

  Alaric looked over and smiled.

  Jarik walked in, puffing out his chest, beaming with pride. Walking beside him was another commoner, a girl named Malisha. She looked nervous but determined. The other three were nobles.

  It was a rare scenario in the Royal Knight Academy that two commoners were promoted to the elite section at once and then on top of that she was a girl. Knight academy lacked them entirely with some rare cases.

  As soon as the class ended, the seating arrangements shuffled. Malisha immediately made a beeline for Alaric and Silan.

  "Can I... join you guys?" Malisha asked, clutching her books tightly.

  Alaric looked at Silan and Jarik. They both nodded.

  "Pull up a chair," Alaric said.

  The commoner’s club was now one more person stronger.

  The semester picked up speed quickly.

  Lucia was rarely seen in the library anymore. Between her studies and her duties as the Saintess, she was swamped.

  Alaric missed her presence, but he used the solitude to focus. He spent his evenings in the back of the library, poring over a tome he had borrowed from Duke Thorne’s private collection.

  It contained an Ascendant Level Earth spell that he skipped over previously.

  "Earthbound Decree."

  It was a terrifying Area-of-Effect spell. Once cast, it created a 100-meter zone where the caster could manipulate gravity, well not exactly. It briefly increased the weight of everything inside by 5 to 10 times.

  It’s like 'Light Weight' but reversed and weaponized, Alaric analyzed.

  The problem was the casting time. The book spell required a total of ten-minutes to cast. Alaric was currently trying to understand the flow of the mana of spell to skip over those bit and cast it in under a minute.

  But magic wasn't his only focus.

  In his everyday life, Alaric was attempting something dangerous.

  He stood in the center of the room, sweat dripping from his chin. His body hummed with a faint green glow.

  "Confirma."

  He wasn't using the strengthening spell to fight. He was just... standing there and doing everything he normally does.

  He had developed a new theory: Normalization.

  If he forced his body to maintain a low-level Confirma active state constantly . While eating, reading and walking, his body would eventually treat that enhanced state as his "normal."

  It was grueling. His muscles ached constantly. His mana drained steadily. But slowly, his baseline was rising. Meaning his "Upper Limit" expanded.

  I can fight longer, Alaric thought, gritting his teeth as a spasm of pain shot through his arm. But my body also breaks down faster than it recovers.

  He released the spell, gasping for air.

  If I could somehow artificially heal myself……

  Alchemy.

  He needed to learn how to brew healing potions. If he could chug recovery potions like water, he could train twenty-four hours a day. He could even probably train his resistances to various things.

  Alaric wiped the sweat from his eyes. Second Year had just begun, and he wasn't planning on resting for a second.