My hand froze around the academy crest.
My system screamed one line into my vision.
[ALERT]
Siphon activity detected.
Location: Verena Royal Knight Academy
Depth: BELOW ARENA
Roth’s head snapped slightly, like he felt the air change.
Mina’s symbol flared under her cloak, a hot pulse of unease.
Lyra’s cheer died mid-breath.
And then the knight in formal armor smiled like a man who had never been afraid in his life.
“Champion,” he said smoothly, stepping closer, blocking my view of the crest with his body. “If you would present your cloak.”
He didn’t wait for consent.
His gloved fingers took the crest from my palm with perfect politeness.
The blue bead vanished under his thumb like it had never existed.
He pinned the crest to my cloak with a practiced motion, then patted the fabric once, like a doctor finishing a checkup.
“There,” he said. “Wear it with honor.”
My lockbox hummed faintly from inside my pack, irritated, like it had been interrupted mid-warning.
I stared at the knight’s glove.
Clean.
Dry.
No blue.
Lyra’s voice cut sharp. “Did you just wipe something off.”
The knight turned his helmet slightly toward her. “The ward resin sometimes gathers along the edge. Harmless. The arena is old.”
Resin.
Sure.
Roth stepped forward half a pace, shield strap tight in his hand. “We need access below the arena. Immediately.”
The knight’s smile did not change, but the temperature did.
“Below the arena is restricted,” he said. “Maintenance tunnels. Wards. Drainworks. You understand.”
Mina’s voice was soft, but it carried. “We have evidence of siphon contamination. We just saw…”
The knight cut her off gently. “You have done the Crown a service. You will not jeopardize the academy’s wards with rumors.”
Rumors.
My stomach twisted.
I opened my mouth to argue.
A second knight stepped in behind him, then a third. Not threatening. Not moving like enemies.
Just present.
Just making the air crowded.
Then the announcer boomed again and the crowd screamed like the city itself had decided it was time for a party.
“CHAMPIONS OF VERENA!”
A roar hit us.
Lanterns flared.
Fireworks cracked somewhere over the stands, bright enough to make the knight’s polished armor glow.
The formal knight leaned in, voice still polite, still smiling.
“Come,” he said. “Your parade awaits.”
Parade.
My brain tried to scream and got smothered by noise.
Lyra hissed, “They’re diverting us.”
Roth’s jaw flexed once. He didn’t deny it.
He just said, low, only for us, “Eyes. Too many.”
Mina swallowed. “We wait.”
I hated waiting.
But I hated getting arrested and “disappeared” more.
So we did the most painful thing in a world where monsters are honest.
We smiled.
We let them lead us.
The instant we stepped out of the arena gate, the city exploded.
Not figuratively. Literally.
Lanterns lit every street like a second sunrise. Shops that should have been closed were open, blazing with light. Vendors handed out skewers, sweet buns, cheap wine, and little academy flags like this was a holy day.
A drumline started up somewhere. Then another. Then the whole district became a rhythm.
Someone threw flower petals.
They stuck to my cloak.
Right under the academy crest.
The crowd chanted.
“HERO STANDARD!”
“HERO STANDARD!”
“HERO STANDARD!”
Lyra looked like she wanted to yell at them for making our joke sound like a destiny.
Mina looked like she was trying not to cry from exhaustion.
Roth looked like he was counting exits.
I felt like I was being carried by the city itself.
We were placed on a wagon. Not a cart. A decorated parade wagon with academy colors and polished rails.
A knight climbed up front with a ceremonial spear and looked pleased with himself.
I leaned toward Roth and whispered, “We go under the arena tonight.”
Roth didn’t look at me.
He stared at the crowd like he was looking through them.
“Not tonight,” he murmured. “They’re not celebrating us. They’re containing us.”
Lyra leaned in. “I will set the arena on fire.”
Mina leaned in too, voice quiet. “We can’t. Not yet. Not with witnesses.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “I hate witnesses.”
“Everyone hates witnesses,” I whispered.
The wagon rolled.
People cheered like I was a story they wanted to believe.
Kids ran alongside the wagon. One offered Pyon a sugar apple.
Pyon sniffed it, blinked, then stole it with surgical precision.
…sweet
I should have laughed.
Instead I stared at the academy crest pinned to my chest and tried to remember exactly where the blue bead had been.
Because I knew what I saw.
And the knight’s glove was too clean.
They did not let us choose our route.
At every intersection, a “helpful” knight waved us the right way.
At every side street, another “helpful” knight stood smiling.
Their smiles never reached their eyes.
We were guided. Herded. Celebrated like livestock.
The wagon stopped at the academy smithy first.
“Voucher redemption,” the knight announced, like this was the reason we existed.
The smithy was packed with winners, hopefuls, and cadets who wanted to breathe the same air as success.
A huge smith with arms like barrels stood behind the counter.
“Champions,” he boomed, and the crowd around us pushed closer.
Roth stepped forward like a wall and created space with sheer presence.
Lyra whispered, “He’s doing crowd control.”
Mina whispered, “He’s saving us.”
The smith slapped two metal tokens on the counter. “Vouchers. Pick your upgrades. Academy grade. No refunds.”
Lyra’s eyes went starry. “No refunds.”
Mina’s expression turned cautious. “No traps.”
The smith laughed. “Only the honest kind. The kind that costs money.”
I looked at the rack of goods and my craft brain woke up like a shark smelling blood.
Shield cores.
Rim segments.
Anti-corrosion plates.
Mana thread spools.
Heat vent housings.
Seal dust cartridges stamped with academy seals.
I wanted all of it.
We could afford none of it.
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Vouchers meant we could afford two things.
Two.
I felt physical pain.
Roth pointed without hesitation. “Shield core. Anti-corrosion rim set.”
The smith nodded like he respected a man who knew what he needed.
Lyra pointed. “Heat focus housing. The good one.”
The smith squinted at her bracer and grunted. “You melted your last one. That’s talent.”
Lyra grinned. “Thank you.”
Mina hesitated, then pointed at a spool of silver-white mana thread.
“Purity thread,” she said quietly. “For binding and ward stitching.”
The smith raised his eyebrows. “Priestess.”
Mina didn’t blink. “Survivor.”
I used my voucher on something my brain had been screaming about since the mimic.
A seal-laminated leather roll.
Portable workshop kit, academy grade.
It had tools I didn’t even recognize.
My Maker’s Focus trait pulsed happily.
[SKILL EXP]
Crafting +4%
Sealwork +3%
Dopamine. Clean. Immediate.
And right when I was enjoying it, the “helpful” knight cleared his throat.
“Champions,” he said. “The Headmaster requests your presence. The city awaits your words.”
Lyra’s smile died. “Speech.”
Mina’s eyes widened. “Speech.”
Roth’s face didn’t move, but I could feel him hating it.
Me.
I felt my soul try to leave my body.
“I am not a speech person,” I whispered.
Lyra stared at me. “You are a hero. Heroes speech.”
“I stab things,” I hissed. “I craft things. I do not speech things.”
The knight smiled brighter. “The crowd will adore you.”
I wanted to hit him.
Instead I nodded.
Because eyes.
Too many.
They marched us up to a balcony overlooking the central avenue.
The whole city looked lit from within. Lanterns, torches, fireworks bursting like flowers in the sky.
People packed the street so tight you could barely see stone.
A headmaster in ceremonial armor stood at the balcony rail, old, tall, hair like silver wire.
His eyes were calm in the way only powerful people can afford.
“Champions,” he said, voice warm. “Verena is grateful.”
His gaze flicked to my cloak.
To the academy crest.
Then away again, like it was nothing.
My lockbox hummed once, faint and annoyed.
The headmaster gestured grandly. “Speak. Inspire. Give the city a standard.”
Lyra coughed, almost laughing.
Roth’s eyes narrowed slightly. Mina looked like she wanted to melt into the floor.
I stepped forward because if I didn’t, someone would push me.
The roar hit me like heat.
Thousands of faces.
Thousands of hopes.
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
My system, which hates silence, chimed helpfully.
[NEW SKILL ACQUIRED]
Oration (Rank F)
I almost laughed from sheer spite.
Of course it would unlock right now.
I took a breath and did the only thing I understood.
I spoke honestly.
“We won because we didn’t quit,” I said, voice rough. “We won because my friends didn’t let me be stupid alone.”
The crowd roared.
Lyra hissed behind me, “Stop making us sound noble.”
Mina’s cheeks warmed.
Roth looked mildly offended at being praised in public.
I continued fast before my courage ran out.
“This city is strong,” I said. “Keep it that way. Watch your water. Watch your roads. Watch your people. And if you see something wrong, don’t wait for someone else to care.”
That last sentence came out sharper than I meant.
The headmaster’s smile stayed.
His eyes did not change.
The crowd cheered anyway because crowds love a warning when it sounds like hope.
My system chimed again.
[SKILL EXP]
Oration +28%
Crowd Pressure +15%
Leadership +6%
I stepped back, sweating.
The headmaster placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, smiling for the crowd.
“Excellent,” he said softly, for my ears only. “Enjoy your celebration.”
His hand squeezed once, not hard, but intentional.
Then he released me like I was a prop.
Lyra whispered, “I hate politics.”
Mina whispered, “Me too.”
Roth whispered, “We keep our heads down.”
I nodded.
And inside my pack, the lockbox hummed like it disagreed.
By the time they finally stopped parading us, my soul felt like it had been used as a mop.
They guided us to a tavern.
Not any tavern.
The kind with polished wood, clean tables, and a private booth already reserved.
A sign above the door read:
THE GILDED HELM
Lyra stared at it. “That’s not subtle.”
Roth scanned the street. “It’s controlled.”
Mina’s voice was tired. “We need sleep.”
I needed to crawl under the arena and start ripping stones up.
We walked in anyway.
The tavern exploded in cheers the moment we entered.
Someone shouted “HERO STANDARD” like it was a religion.
Lyra waved with one finger again.
Mina tried to smile and looked like she was in pain.
Roth nodded once to the room and made it feel like an official acknowledgement.
They seated us in the reserved booth.
Food arrived instantly. Meat. bread. soup. fruit. Beer for Lyra. Tea for Mina. Water for Roth.
For me, a fancy drink with a little mint leaf like the tavern wanted to prove it had class.
I stared at the mint leaf suspiciously.
Lyra slapped my hand. “Drink. Eat. Stop looking like you’re about to fight the garnish.”
I ate.
Because I was starving.
Because I was tired.
Because if I didn’t, I would actually start biting furniture out of trauma.
We were halfway through the meal when the tavern noise shifted.
Not louder.
Focused.
Like attention turned into a beam.
A woman walked in.
And the air changed.
She was tall, confident, and moved like she had never been told no in her life. Her hair was dark and glossy, tied high with a ribbon that looked expensive. Her dress was not a noble dress, not a barmaid dress, not an armor dress.
It was a “I can do all three if I want” dress.
She had a sword at her hip, slender, practical.
And she was so unfairly pretty the entire room forgot how to swallow for a second.
Lyra’s fork paused mid-air.
Mina’s eyes widened slightly.
Roth’s gaze narrowed like he was assessing threat.
Pyon blinked and instantly stole a bun from a passing tray.
…bun
The woman smiled as she scanned the room.
Then her eyes landed on our booth.
On me.
Her smile widened.
Oh no.
She walked over like she owned the space between tables.
“Champions,” she said, voice smooth. “Verena is loud tonight.”
Lyra stared at her like she was a problem that hadn’t been assigned yet.
Mina sat straighter, polite face snapping into place.
Roth nodded once. “Ma’am.”
The woman’s eyes flicked to Roth and Mina, then back to me.
She extended a hand.
“Captain Seraphina Aster,” she said. “Knight Academy Instructor. I sponsor talent when I see it.”
Aster.
Star.
My stomach did a small, unhappy flip.
Her earrings were tiny silver stars. Decorative. Innocent.
My lockbox hummed faintly in my pack like it recognized the shape.
I forced my hand to move and shook hers.
Her grip was warm.
Her smile was warmer.
“Kenta,” I said.
She tilted her head. “Just Kenta. No title. I like that.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “He has titles.”
Seraphina’s gaze flicked to Lyra. “Does he.”
Lyra leaned forward. “Yes.”
Mina leaned forward too, voice soft but sharp. “Yes.”
I sat perfectly still like prey.
Seraphina laughed quietly, amused, and leaned closer to me.
“You fought like someone who’s been hungry,” she murmured. “Not for glory. For survival. That makes you dangerous.”
My Affection Sense pinged like a hammer.
My Unwanted Allure trait did something I could physically feel, like a switch flipped.
[NOTICE]
Affection influx detected.
Unwanted Allure: Triggered
[SKILL EXP]
Affection Sense +40%
Seduction Sense +22%
Lyra’s face changed.
Mina’s face changed.
The air in the booth turned sharp.
I tried to speak.
I failed.
Seraphina’s fingers lingered on my hand a beat too long.
Then she said, brightly, to the whole table, “If you’re considering knighthood, I can make introductions. Champion’s path is smoother with a sponsor.”
Roth’s eyes narrowed. “Convenient.”
Seraphina smiled at him like he was a cute puppy trying to bite her boot. “Efficient.”
Lyra’s voice turned sweet in the way that means danger. “We already have a captain.”
Seraphina’s gaze flicked to Roth. “Captain. Charming.”
Mina’s voice stayed polite, and that politeness was a knife. “We appreciate the offer. We are very close.”
Seraphina looked at Mina and smiled wider. “I can tell.”
Lyra’s fork bent slightly in her hand.
Mina’s symbol under her cloak pulsed faintly.
My system chimed again, because of course it did.
[SKILL RANK UP]
Affection Sense: F -> D
Lyra’s eyes snapped to me. “Why did you level that.”
“I didn’t,” I hissed.
Mina’s polite voice tightened. “Kenta. Why is she touching you.”
“She’s not,” I lied, while my hand was still warm.
Seraphina leaned back, perfectly calm, enjoying the tension like it was entertainment.
“This is adorable,” she said.
Lyra leaned forward. “Leave.”
Mina leaned forward. “Please.”
Seraphina’s eyes glittered. “If I leave, will he miss me.”
I nearly choked on my drink.
Lyra stood up so fast the booth shook. “I will burn you.”
Mina stood too, light flickering around her fingers. “I will Purify you.”
Seraphina blinked once, then laughed like she’d been complimented.
Roth stood last, slow and controlled, and the entire booth suddenly felt like it had a ceiling.
“Sit,” Roth said.
Lyra and Mina froze.
Not because they wanted to.
Because Roth’s voice was the kind you obey before thinking.
Roth looked at Seraphina.
His gaze was calm. Professional.
“State your purpose,” he said.
Seraphina’s smile stayed, but her eyes sharpened slightly.
“Purpose,” she repeated. “I told you. Sponsorship. Interest. Curiosity.”
Roth’s voice was flat. “Curiosity is not a purpose.”
Seraphina studied him for a breath.
Then she stepped back and raised both hands, theatrical.
“Fine,” she said. “Purpose is I like watching interesting people. And your hero is interesting.”
Lyra made a strangled sound.
Mina’s cheeks were pink with anger.
My system chimed again like it was throwing gasoline on the situation.
[NEW SKILL ACQUIRED]
Flirt Deflection (Rank F)
Effect: reduces social damage from romantic pressure
Note: requires not being an idiot
Lyra stared at me. “It says you’re an idiot.”
“It didn’t say that,” I hissed.
Mina stared at me. “It implied it.”
Seraphina laughed again and reached into her pocket, pulling out a small card.
She placed it on the table, right in front of me.
A sponsor’s card with a wax seal.
The seal was a simple crest.
A star.
Not a circle. Not a ring. Just one star.
My stomach tightened again.
Seraphina tapped the card once.
“Come find me if you want doors opened,” she said softly. “Or if you want answers.”
Answers.
Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “What answers.”
Seraphina smiled. “The kind you’re not supposed to ask for.”
Then she turned and walked away like she hadn’t just tossed a grenade into our booth.
The tavern noise slowly returned like everyone had been holding their breath.
Lyra stared at the card like it was poison.
Mina stared at me like I was poison.
Roth stared at the room like he was deciding how many exits he needed.
Pyon blinked onto the table and tried to lick the wax seal.
…taste
“No,” I whispered, and lifted him away.
Lyra’s voice was tight. “Why do women keep spawning on you.”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
Mina’s voice was softer, but worse. “Do you like it.”
“No,” I said instantly.
Lyra and Mina both said, “Good,” at the same time.
Then they looked at each other.
And the fight started.
Not physical at first.
Verbal.
Lyra accused Mina of being too controlling.
Mina accused Lyra of being too aggressive.
Lyra accused Mina of hiding feelings behind priestess manners.
Mina accused Lyra of hiding feelings behind sarcasm.
Roth drank his water like a man watching a storm roll in.
I sat there, trying to become invisible.
My system chimed again because it hates me.
[NOTICE]
Harem-related tension detected.
Recommendation: communication
Lyra snapped her head toward me. “It’s recommending communication.”
Mina’s cheeks went red. “It’s always recommending communication.”
Lyra leaned forward. “Communicate then.”
I swallowed.
Words did not exist in my mouth.
So I did what my brain always does when threatened.
I escaped.
“I’m going to craft,” I blurted.
Lyra and Mina both said, “What,” in perfect unison.
I stood anyway and grabbed the portable workshop kit like it was a lifeline.
Roth spoke once, voice calm.
“Let him,” he said. “He crafts when he can’t talk.”
Lyra glared at Roth. “You’re enabling him.”
Roth didn’t blink. “Yes.”
Mina exhaled hard, cheeks still pink, and looked away.
I fled.
The inn had a small back room with a workbench. Not good. Not clean. But a flat surface and tools.
I set the kit down and opened it like a starving man opening bread.
Everything inside was beautifully organized.
Tools stamped with academy marks.
Tiny vials of seal dust.
Clamps that actually fit.
A folding brazier that didn’t smoke like a murder signal.
My Maker’s Focus trait lit up.
[TRAIT ACTIVE]
Maker’s Focus (Enhanced)
I worked.
Not because we needed upgrades right now.
We did.
But mostly because if I didn’t work, my brain would replay Seraphina’s star earrings and the crest bead and the knight’s too-clean glove and the alert about below arena and the fact that my romance skills had leveled against my will.
So I crafted like my thoughts were monsters.
I reforged the edge of my blade, grinding out the tiny nick from acid.
I rewired Lyra’s bracer vent grooves with a better heat pattern from the academy housing.
I stitched a fresh anti-corrosion seam into Roth’s rim segments.
I reinforced Mina’s bead cord with purity thread, making it harder for mana leeches to latch.
Chimes.
[SKILL EXP]
Metalwork +3%
Sealwork +2%
Leatherwork +2%
Better.
Clean.
Simple.
Then the workshop got quiet again.
And in the quiet, the lockbox hummed through my pack like a heartbeat.
Not upstream.
Down.
Below.
I froze with a needle in my hand.
The alert from earlier flickered in my mind.
Depth: below arena.
I pulled the crest on my cloak free and held it under the workshop lantern.
The academy seal looked normal.
Too normal.
I turned it over.
On the underside, tucked where only the wearer would see, was the star-circle etching again.
And right at the edge of that etching, a microscopic wet shine gathered.
A bead.
Blue.
It wasn’t dripping.
It was crawling.
Against gravity.
Toward the circle like it wanted to complete it.
My stomach dropped.
I heard laughter from the tavern front. Celebration. Drunk cheers. Music. The city high on victory.
And under all that noise, I imagined it.
Tunnels.
Drainworks.
Wards.
Something feeding.
Something the knights didn’t want champions to walk into.
I wiped the bead with a cloth.
The cloth smoked slightly.
My fingers tightened.
I stared at the crest until my eyes hurt.
Then I put it back on my cloak because I couldn’t exactly throw it into the street without starting a war.
I packed my tools slowly.
My mind finally stopped sprinting and started walking.
We were being distracted.
Not by accident.
By design.
Parade. vouchers. speeches. sponsors. taverns. attention.
A whole city celebration wrapped around us like a velvet leash.
And beneath the arena, something was moving.
I exhaled through my nose.
Fine.
Let them celebrate.
Let them watch.
Let them smile.
I would smile too.
And when the lights finally went out, we were going underground.