I Tricked a God

The territory of the Imperial Academy felt entirely different from the day Kael had arrived.

If yesterday an almost deathly silence had reigned here, now the entire space seemed to have come alive. Paths and squares were filled with students moving in one direction. The noise of voices, laughter, and fragments of conversation blended into a dense backdrop, making it immediately clear—the day had already begun.

Crowds flowed toward the academy’s main building. Some walked quickly, almost at a run, while others moved at a more relaxed pace, discussing something with their companions. Many carried scrolls and books, pressed to their chests or carelessly tucked under an arm. Others had weapons visible at their belts and across their backs—swords, spears, short blades; some even carried staffs adorned with crystal inlays.

Looking around, Kael narrowed his eyes slightly, noting the details, and said, “Lieutenant Valeria, may I ask a question?”

The woman merely gave a slight nod without slowing her pace.

Receiving permission, Kael continued, “Will we also be issued uniforms? Or is our status different?”

Letting his gaze slide over the students ahead, he had already noticed the key difference. All of them were dressed in strict white uniforms with a neat red emblem over the heart. The symbol was simple but memorable—a sword and a book crossed over one another.

Valeria simply nodded and replied firmly, “Your uniforms are waiting in your classroom.”

Hearing this, Kael let out a barely noticeable breath, maintaining a calm expression.

“Good news… We’ll stand out less this way.”

At that moment, Kael and the group were already moving along the academy’s main street, merging into the general flow of students. And as soon as they were noticed, muted discussions rose around them.

“My father talked about them all evening…”

“Mine too. He says that thanks to their homeland, we’ll be able to explore the lost part of the continent.”

“They say that yesterday, the Imperial Citadel was in an uproar…”

The conversations were held in hushed tones, but without much attempt to hide them. The curiosity was almost tangible. Some students even slightly altered their paths, as if intending to come closer, but the moment their gaze fell on Valeria, the urge faded instantly. Her presence seemed to establish an invisible boundary that no one dared to cross.

Ignoring the whispers, Kael continued forward calmly, studying those around him.

“All kinds of people studied at the academy…” he noted to himself, letting his gaze drift over the crowd.

His attention caught on the details. Among the students were people with almost sickly pale skin, while others passing by had skin so dark it took on a bluish tint in the sunlight. There were also more unusual ones—with a faint greenish undertone to their skin, which at first seemed like a trick of the light, but appeared too often to be a coincidence.

Narrowing his eyes, Kael continued his train of thought, “When we passed through the capital, I didn’t see such diversity…”

He shifted his gaze forward, watching the dense stream of students.

“The academy gathered people from all territories of the Empire. That must be why it was especially noticeable here.”

At that moment, Valeria slightly quickened her pace, setting a brisker pace, and said without turning, “For now, your classroom will be in the artisan wing.”

Hearing this, Kael raised his gaze, immediately directing it to the right side of the main complex—the section whose roof was covered in an actual garden. Dense greenery hung down, partially concealing the walls, while the rest of the architecture looked like a strange blend of different styles, as if it had been expanded at different times and for different purposes.

Sensing a growing interest within himself, Kael asked, “I noticed the emblems on the students’ chests… A sword and a book crossed. Is there a division among mages in the Empire?”

Valeria gave a short nod.

“Exactly. Warriors and artisans—both are equally important mages. The Imperial Academy selects and trains the very best.”

As she spoke, she lightly touched the emblem on her chest, where a red dragon was embroidered.

“Warriors are protection and power. The vanguard of the Empire. That is why we wear our insignia on the chest.”

Then, without slowing her pace, she gestured back over her shoulder.

“Artisans are the rear support. Indispensable and crucial for waging war. That is why their insignia is placed on the back.”

Listening, Kael immediately connected this with what he had seen earlier.

“That’s right…” the thought flashed.

The Artisan Quarter they had passed through came to mind. He had noticed the detail back then but hadn’t given it much importance.

Valeria, without slowing, continued, as if elaborating, “We have been at war for hundreds of years. And in that time, we have come to understand that everyone matters in war.”

Her voice remained even, but there was firm conviction in it.

“Even ordinary civilians—those who work the fields, raise livestock, maintain order in the cities, and do hundreds of other things without which the army simply cannot exist.”

For a moment, she shifted her gaze forward—to a woman sweeping the path—then added, “And most importantly, they bear new mages and new followers for the God of Blood and War.”

At those words, she turned her head toward Kael, watching his reaction closely.

“That is why your city is important to us as well. It will become a foothold for exploring the lost part of the continent. If the Empire finds other descendants of the ancient refugees, it will only grow stronger.”

Her lips slowly curved into a faint smile, but once again, something predatory flickered within it.

“And if we reach the very south…” she added quietly, as if already there in her thoughts, “we will be able to strike the Beast God Horde from behind…”

Those words struck Kael’s mind.

“The Beast God Horde?” he repeated inwardly, without changing his expression. “What in the world happened in ancient times for the Beast God to attempt to seize the Human Dimension? Where did the Gods who patronized the three Ancient Empires go?”

The thought lingered, but he immediately pushed it aside. Now was not the time to dwell on speculation.

Maintaining an even pace, he asked the next question, “And how is a student’s specialization determined? Who chooses their path?”

Valeria fell silent for a moment, also pulling herself out of her thoughts, after which her gaze once again became cold and composed.

“The Academy admits youths aged sixteen to nineteen,” she replied. “Those who have already completed basic training and reached the Channel Mage stage.”

Kael gave a slight nod, processing what he had heard.

“So, Steel Mages…” he noted to himself. “Among the Lasthold group, there are those who have already surpassed that level. Violet, for example.”

He briefly shifted his gaze toward the girls, noticing Roselle and Lissandra.

“But there are also those who are younger and weaker… We really stand out.”

That thought only reinforced his understanding—their presence here was not the norm. Their group was an exception.

Valeria, without slowing her pace, continued, “Students remain at the academy for no more than fifteen months. It is designed to identify talent and potential. If within that time a student proves themselves in at least one area and manages to pass the exams, they will be made into a recruit or an apprentice.”

She spoke evenly, as if reciting long-established rules.

“From that moment, a student fully focuses on developing a single direction. They bring it to its limit—whether it be warfare or craft.”

“Recruits are sent to the army, and apprentices to their respective guilds.”

At those words, a spark of interest flickered in Kael’s eyes. His thoughts immediately began to align, layering what he had heard over his own capabilities.

“And if a student is strong in multiple aspects?” he asked, not hiding his interest.

Valeria cast him a brief glance, and a faint smirk appeared on her lips.

“There are few such mages,” she replied. “But if you are one of them, you will be given the right to choose your path.”

After a brief pause, she added, “The Empire especially values those who are strong in battle and at the same time skilled in a craft. Such mages receive more attention—and… more opportunities.”

Her gaze lingered on Kael for a moment, as if assessing whether he fit that description.

Feeling a growing anticipation, Kael narrowed his eyes slightly and asked, “If I wished to show respect to such a mage… how would I recognize one?”

Valeria smiled faintly, as if she appreciated his eagerness.

“They bear a dragon on their uniform, both on the chest and on the back,” she replied. “That alone speaks volumes.”

She lifted her head slightly, as if recalling someone specific.

“There are even those who bear multiple dragons on their backs. Each one is a symbol of rank in a particular craft.”

At those words, a sly smile appeared on Kael’s face, and he thought, “That’s a shortcut to authority. I could continue developing alchemy… and perhaps one more craft. With my perfect memory and knowledge, I’ll be able to learn much faster than the others.”

At that moment, they stepped out from the shade of the trees lining the path. The sunlight grew sharply brighter, falling across the stone square before the entrance to the Academy. The massive doors were already open, and students streamed inside in an unbroken flow—the noise of voices growing denser and the air itself thick with movement and the anticipation of the beginning of classes.

✦ ✦ ✦

At the same time, a short distance away, a slender young man of about nineteen sat on a neatly trimmed lawn.

His blood-red hair was slicked back, and from his temples ran thin braids, neatly woven into the rest of his hair. His features were sharp and expressive, with a clean line of cheekbones and long eyebrows, the ends of which curved slightly upward, giving his gaze a faintly mocking edge.

He calmly observed the Lasthold group.

The young man smiled slightly, then, planting his cane into the ground, rose smoothly to his feet. The movement was confident, yet the students standing nearby still hurried to support him by the elbow, as if this was something they were used to.

Among them was Seiran—the one in charge of the student district.

Taking a step forward, he bowed respectfully and, pointing toward Kael, said, “That one—the boy with ashen hair.”

The red-haired man narrowed his eyes slightly, shifting his gaze.

“The one with Lieutenant Valeria?” he asked.

Seiran smiled, immediately confirming, “Exactly, brother Valkeris. His name is Kael. He’s the only one who understands our language.”

Hearing this, Valkeris slowly nodded, not taking his eyes off Kael’s figure.

“Kael, is it… I’ve heard that Elder Cornelius thinks highly of him,” he said calmly. “The boy is only sixteen, yet his mana channels are already perfect.”

A faint, interested smile appeared on his lips.

“I need subordinates like that.”

Hearing this, Seiran frowned for a brief moment. The reaction was almost imperceptible, but irritation flickered in his gaze, as if he sensed a potential rival in Kael.

Still, the very next second, he concealed it, his usual smile returning to his face.

“For now, there’s nothing to gain from these savages,” he added with a shrug. “We’ll have to wait until they learn the language and can be put to work.”

Valkeris merely waved his hand dismissively in response, as if brushing aside something trivial.

“I don’t care about their money,” he said calmly. “What matters is teaching them the hierarchy of the capital. If they can’t pay, obedience can be achieved in other ways.”

He narrowed his eyes, continuing to study the Lasthold group.

“There are a few pretty girls among them…” he added slowly. “It wouldn’t hurt to add them to my collection.”

Several students standing nearby exchanged glances and smiled carelessly, as if such a thing seemed perfectly ordinary to them.

But at that moment, clear bell tolls rang out across the academy grounds.

The sound was different—not like the one coming from the temples. Sharper, clearer, with a metallic resonance. It came from the direction of the main building.

And the reaction was immediate.

The students around them began to quicken their pace, conversations cut off, and the flow thickened noticeably, surging toward the main building.

Valkeris, shifting his grip on the cane slightly, also moved forward.

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“Let’s hurry,” he said. “It’s better not to be late for Lieutenant Duhlas’s lesson. Otherwise, he’ll knock the sense back into us again.”

At those words, Seiran and the others grimaced noticeably but, without objection, quickened their pace, merging into the stream of students heading toward the main building.

✦ ✦ ✦

At that same moment, Kael and the group passed through the central gates, entering the main building.

A wide and towering hall opened before them. The space rose several stories high, creating a sense of vastness and austerity. The walls were made of white stone, smooth and cold in appearance, and between the columns hung heavy red banners bearing imperial symbols. Statues stood everywhere—warriors in armor, figures with raised blades—and between them were paintings depicting battles and scenes from the Empire’s history.

From the hall, numerous corridors branched out in different directions. Streams of students flowed into them, quickly disappearing around corners.

At the very center rose a broad staircase that split in two. Its steps led upward to the higher floors, where they connected different parts of the building.

Kael lingered on the sight for a moment, taking in the scale.

Valeria, however, did not slow her pace and said, “The practice halls are above. Sparring, combat training, and craft lessons are held there. It’s too early for you to go there.”

With that, she turned confidently to the right without even looking back.

“Follow me.”

The group moved after her, keeping up with her pace. Moving quickly along the corridor, they turned several times, going deeper into the building. The white stone of the walls gave way to darker finishes, and the flow of students around them noticeably thinned—this was already a different zone of the academy.

Soon, Valeria stopped at one of the doors, its plaque marked with the number three hundred seventeen.

Without wasting time, she opened the door and stepped inside first.

Kael followed and immediately found himself in a spacious lecture hall. The room was in clear contrast to the corridors—everything here was crafted from dark polished wood. The floor, walls, and railings were all smooth and lacquered, reflecting a soft light.

The seating for students was arranged in a semicircle, descending in tiers, so that each row was lower than the previous one. At the bottom, in the center, was the instructor’s area—an open space with a wide desk and room for demonstrations.

“What is that?” someone muttered, pointing ahead as they entered behind Kael.

Kael shifted his gaze.

On the wall behind the instructor hung a massive dark panel. It resembled a painting entirely covered in matte black, yet it looked too even and uniform to be ordinary paint.

Kael narrowed his eyes slightly, studying it.

“Judging by the texture, it looks like compressed stone dust…” he noted to himself. “But it has a slight sheen… Are mana crystals mixed in?”

But before he could finish the thought, Valeria’s figure blurred, and in the next instant she stood right by the “painting.”

“Kael. Come down here,” she said calmly.

He gave a short nod to Violet and the others.

“Sit closer so you can hear everything clearly.”

Without wasting time, he began descending the tiers. Behind him, the group quickly took seats closer to the center, trying not to spread too far apart.

Reaching the bottom, Kael stood slightly to the side of Valeria, leaving her space.

As soon as everyone had taken their seats, she raised her hand. At the tip of her index finger, a faint spark of mana flickered.

Valeria touched the surface of the “painting” and with a smooth, confident motion drew her hand across it.

The dark surface responded instantly.

Where her finger passed, the surface began to glow dimly. The movement was swift and sweeping, and within a couple of seconds a large rune formed on the surface.

One glance was enough for Kael to grasp its meaning. The rune read: “Greetings.”

Kael immediately understood.

Pointing at the rune, he spoke calmly, addressing the group, “Today, we begin with the basics of the language. And Lieutenant Valeria has written one of the most fundamental words—it means ‘greetings.’ It is pronounced ‘Saleth.’”

Valeria shifted her gaze to him and, without wasting time, ordered, “Before we begin, tell everyone to lift the lids of their desks.”

Pointing to one of the empty seats in the front row, she added, “Check yours as well.”

Kael hesitated for a moment, then quickly headed back up the tiers, translating as he went, “Lift the lids of your desks.”

Some of the students did not understand at once. A few began feeling along the surface, trying to find a gap while others exchanged glances, unsure how to proceed.

But there were those who figured it out faster. Hooking their fingers under the edge, they pulled upward, and the wooden panel lifted smoothly, revealing a hidden compartment.

“There’s something here…” one of them muttered quietly.

Taking a few steps forward, Kael also opened the hidden compartment. Inside lay a neatly folded white uniform. The fabric looked dense yet light, without unnecessary seams or decorations, with the same red emblem over the chest.

Seeing this, the others began acting more confidently, one after another opening their desks.

From behind Kael came Valeria’s voice: “You will change during the break. The uniform is enchanted by our weavers—it will adjust to your size and fit on its own.”

She paused briefly, then added, “You also need not worry about cleanliness. This fabric is difficult to stain and almost impossible to retain odors.”

Touching the fabric, Kael let his fingers linger for a moment. The material was surprisingly smooth and pleasant to the touch, and he could feel mana within it.

“This isn’t just a simple enchantment…” he noted to himself, lightly gripping the edge of the uniform. “The fabric was first treated with special compounds, then a protective magic circle was inscribed…”

He slowly ran his fingers along a fold, assessing the quality.

“The Academy truly is an elite institution…”

With that thought, he lifted his head and, without wasting time, quickly relayed Valeria’s words to his companions. A murmur of surprise passed through the rows. Some were already feeling the fabric, others exchanged glances, discussing what they had heard, but gradually the noise began to subside.

When their attention refocused, Valeria made a brief motion with her hand.

In the next moment, dozens of notebooks flew out of her spatial storage. They scattered across the hall as if guided by an invisible force and gently landed before each student.

The notebooks settled neatly, as if placed by careful hands.

For a second, silence fell over the hall.

It became clear to everyone—the first lesson had finally begun.

✦ ✦ ✦

The sun slowly rose over the Imperial Academy, bathing its buildings in the even light of midday. The shadows of towers and columns gradually shortened, while the life within did not slow for even a moment.

For most students, the day unfolded as usual. One lecture followed another, streams of students moved from one hall to the next—some hurrying, others, on the contrary, drifting lazily toward their next class.

But for the Lasthold group, everything was different.

Their morning had turned into continuous study of the basics of language and writing. They started with the simplest words and symbols and moved on to more complex ones. Valeria made no allowances, and Kael, standing beside her, constantly translated, explained, and corrected, helping his companions not lose track.

And while the youths of Lasthold studied, more and more rumors spread through the corridors and courtyard of the academy. The news of the arrival of the “outsiders” had already spread, picking up details along the way.

On one of the benches, in the shade of a tree, several girls sat close together, leaning toward one another and discussing it animatedly.

“I saw some of them…” a girl with pale skin and long black hair said quietly, though with clear excitement, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.

“You’re lying,” another shot back immediately, taking a sip from an elegant porcelain flask and adjusting her pink curls. “Weren’t they supposed to be kept separate?”

“I’m not lying,” the first answered stubbornly, leaning slightly forward. “I went to the washroom, and there… a few girls from their group were just changing into academy uniforms.”

Listening to this, a third girl—with a faint greenish tint to her skin and thick curly hair of the same shade—frowned in displeasure, crossing her arms over her chest.

“That’s not fair,” she said, lowering her voice slightly. “My family bent over backwards to secure me a place in the Academy. And they were accepted just like that.”

The pale girl paused for a moment, looking away as if replaying what she had seen.

“To be honest…” she began slowly, “there are some capable mages among them. I don’t think they all got here just by luck.”

The girl with pink hair snorted, though without the earlier sharpness. Taking another sip from her flask, she leaned back lazily on the bench.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “I overheard the professors talking. Their group will be taught the language for a few months, and then they’ll start attending lectures and practical classes alongside us.”

She turned her head slightly toward the main building, where students continued to bustle about.

“That’s when it’ll become clear what they’re really worth.”

✦ ✦ ✦

While gossip spread and classes continued as usual, the sun slipped past its zenith and began to sink toward early evening. The light softened, the shadows stretched, and a sense of the day drawing to a close settled over the corridors.

When the final bells rang, streams of students began to pour out of the Academy. Some headed straight for the exit, quickening their pace, while others lingered, discussing the lessons that had just ended. Some hurried home, others to part-time work, and a third group was already making plans for the evening.

Kael stood at the exit of the main building, watching the flow.

A boy rushed past him, calling out to his friends as he ran, “I’ll hurry! I want to make it to the shop before prayers begin!”

Kael watched him for a moment.

“Right…” the thought flashed. “The temple bells haven’t yet called their flock…”

He was about to continue the thought when he felt a light touch on his shoulder.

“We’re leaving, Kael,” Violet said.

He turned and, with a faint smile, nodded.

“Be careful. And for now, it’s better not to leave the dormitory.”

Violet nodded calmly in return, accepting his words without question.

Standing nearby, Girren and Gilmesh spoke almost at the same time, “Don’t worry.”

They glanced at each other, and Girren immediately grimaced, clearly annoyed that they had said the same thing. Gilmesh, on the other hand, just burst out laughing, slinging an arm over Girren’s shoulder.

“We’re not kids, Kael,” he added. “So relax.”

Girren let out a heavy sigh but did not argue. Turning slightly toward Lissandra and Roselle, he said in a calmer tone, “You’re probably hungry. Let’s head back to the dormitory and make dinner.”

Roselle nodded and, tugging Lissandra along, looked back over her shoulder.

“Thanks for the lessons, Kael. It even reminded me of the old days, when you used to explain things to me in the library.”

A faint smile flickered across her face, and without waiting for a reply, she quickened her pace, catching up with the others.

Girren and Gilmesh gave Kael one last nod before the entire group headed for the exit, gradually dissolving into the stream of students.

Kael watched them for a while as the familiar figures disappeared into the crowd.

Then he smiled faintly and, shifting his gaze toward the courtyard, thought, “I should get something to eat as well… I still have a few more hours with Valeria ahead…”

Turning, Kael was about to head for the exit when his gaze fell on a large mirror hanging on the wall of the hall between the columns.

He stopped short.

In the reflection, he stood—but for a moment, it felt unfamiliar. Over the past few weeks, he had hardly paid attention to his appearance, and now the changes were obvious.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, he looked himself up and down, and a sly smirk appeared on his lips.

“I’ve gotten better-looking…” he muttered quietly.

He had grown taller. His body had stretched and become leaner, his shoulders broader, and his posture more masculine. The white uniform of the Academy fit him neatly, emphasizing his figure and creating a slight contrast with his ashen hair and amber eyes.

He lingered on his reflection for a moment, as if committing it to memory, then looked away.

“Valeria said the dining hall would still be open, since many students stay for practice…”

Turning, he headed toward the exit of the main building, recalling the way as he walked.

“A two-story circular building with an emblem of utensils…” he muttered under his breath.

✦ ✦ ✦

Stepping out of the main building, Kael almost immediately spotted the building he needed.

It truly stood out—a two-story, circular structure with wide windows and a neat emblem of utensils above the entrance. Muffled voices and the clatter of dishes already came from within, and from time to time, students approached the doors.

He headed toward it, but he hadn’t taken even a hundred steps when a voice called out behind him, “I would ask for a moment of your attention, Liaison.”

The tone was soft, almost pleasant, yet there was a distinct aristocratic coldness in it.

Kael tensed involuntarily, instinctively sensing danger, and immediately turned around.

A short distance away stood a red-haired young man, unknown to Kael. He carried himself with confidence, leaning on a cane, and looked straight at him calmly.

And though the red-haired man was unknown to him, Kael recognized another—Seiran. He stood slightly behind the red-haired man, wearing an obsequious smile.

“So this must be the ‘patron’ Seiran mentioned…” Kael noted, instantly piecing it together. “Better to avoid unnecessary conflict.”

Composing himself, he immediately changed his expression, making it more composed and respectful. Taking a step forward, he gave a slight bow and said, “Greetings. You must be the esteemed Valkeris that Seiran mentioned yesterday.”

At this address, Valkeris raised his brows slightly, clearly surprised, but the very next moment a pleased smile appeared on his face.

“You’ve got good manners, boy,” he said, not hiding his approval.

Leaning lightly on his cane, he took a few steps forward and stopped directly in front of Kael, closing the distance between them.

“How do you find the Imperial Academy, built by my ancestors?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Kael answered without delay, maintaining a polite tone, “We are all still trying to make sense of what is happening. In our homeland, there are no structures of such scale.”

Hearing this, Valkeris noticeably straightened, puffing out his chest slightly, as if the praise were directed personally at him.

“You should know, my family had a hand in building the student district for provincials,” he added with a faint note of self-satisfaction. “You do understand that you ought to be grateful to me and my ancestors.”

Kael merely lifted his gaze to him and, without engaging further, limited himself to a short nod, remaining calm.

Valkeris held his gaze for a moment, then continued, “But words of gratitude have no real value…”

Kael did not respond, keeping the same expression. Inside, he let out a weary sigh, holding back his irritation.

“Damn… why do I have to listen to this crap, and from some brat at that?”

He did not look away, but offered no reaction either, letting the silence hang between them.

Valkeris, not receiving an answer, frowned slightly, and a note of threat crept into his voice, “Usually, provincials repay their honor with money. But you’re still completely uncivilized…”

He tilted his head slightly, studying Kael, as if he had already made a decision.

“So I suggest you take responsibility. Until your people can work, you will serve me.”

A smirk appeared on his lips, and he continued lazily, “You’ll run small errands. Bring food, check lecture schedules, hold a place… trivial things.”

After a brief pause, he added, now with a clear hint, “And you’ll introduce me to the beauties from your homeland. Your name is Liaison, isn’t it? Then live up to it.”

Laughter immediately broke out behind him.

Several of the young men exchanged glances, some not even bothering to hide their smiles. Seiran stepped slightly forward, as if backing his “patron.”

“In the future, Valkeris will hold considerable power,” he said with the same obsequious smile. “If you serve him well, you won’t lose out either.”

And, smiling in a friendly manner, he added, “Take the advice of your elder, and your stay in the Capital will become much more pleasant.”

Kael slowly lifted his gaze, shifting it from Valkeris to the young men standing behind him. He assessed them calmly, revealing nothing.

“They’re all Steel Mages…” he noted to himself, letting his gaze linger on several of them. “But that wasn’t the problem.”

His gaze returned to Valkeris, and he finished the thought: “The threat lay in his influence.”

Irritation began to rise within Kael.

“Damn… Looks like conflict is inevitable…”

He took a short breath, and his expression settled back into calm politeness.

“Thank you for the offer, esteemed Valkeris,” he said evenly. “I sincerely pay my respects to you and your great family.”

He paused briefly, as if choosing his words.

“But it is not in my nature to make decisions without sufficient information.”

Valkeris frowned, his gaze sharpening as he tilted his head slightly and said coldly, “Do you think it’s wise to refuse me, boy?”

Kael did not look away and, growing slightly more serious, replied calmly, “It is wise not to accept an offer until you understand its terms.”

Valkeris suddenly burst out laughing, clearly finding the situation amusing. Casting a sidelong glance at Kael, he raised a brow slightly, giving his gaze a mocking edge.

“I’ll forgive you today, Liaison,” he said with a faint smile. “I’ll give you time to learn more, as you wish.”

He turned, leaning on his cane, and added over his shoulder, “I’m giving you three days. But when we meet again, you’ll have to kneel for me to accept you into my service.”

With those words, he moved forward, his people following behind him. Seiran lingered a half-step behind, casting Kael a brief, sharp look.

“Fool,” he said. “You’re lucky Brother Valkeris is in a good mood today.”

Lifting his chin, he immediately turned and hurried after the others.

Kael watched them go, then clicked his tongue in irritation and exhaled quietly.

“I need to find out who this Valkeris is…” he muttered under his breath.

Turning toward the dining hall, he clasped his hands behind his back and walked forward at an unhurried pace, slightly hunched, as if weighing several things at once.

He grimaced for a moment.

“I have no desire to deal with rich brats… I simply don’t have time for that.”

With those words, Kael’s amber eyes glinted faintly, and he added quietly, “After my lessons with Valeria, I need to take a walk through the city… and figure out how much it costs to rent a place. I won’t be able to live in peace in the student quarter…”