Verlyn Academy.

  The lively moment arrives once again—the graduation day for the 77th class of students. The ceremony takes place in a vast hall, where Grand Master Lutzer Swan stands on stage, finishing his speech.

  “Once again, congratulations to the 77th graduating class of Verlyn Academy. May the path you choose after leaving this academy lead you to a bright future.”

  The students break into enthusiastic applause. Among them are Tseryo and Vichel with the Karsh group, Zeff with his fellow students from Argoust, Jacelin with the alchemy students, and Zoi and Yanzen with the artificers. They have all completed their studies at Verlyn Academy.

  Outside the hall, the atmosphere bursts with excitement as the graduates celebrate. Some gather for group photos, others hug and congratulate each other, while many share stories with friends before parting ways.

  Jacelin and Vichel also take a moment to snap a photo together in their graduation uniforms. Then Jacelin is swept away by her classmates for the graduation party, leaving Vichel on her own—until Tseryo comes over to join her.

  Blitz!

  Zeff has just finished his photo session with his own classmates. They continue chatting and exchanging farewells.

  Then Zeff notices something—at another photo stand, Vichel is standing with Tseryo in line, as if the two of them are about to take a picture together.

  “Zeff Lou Roan.” The voice of Miss Dels, the Grand Master’s aide, reaches him. “The Grand Master would like to speak with you.”

  “Oh, alright. I’ll head to him right away.”

  Tseryo and Vichel step onto the small stage to take their photos. The photographer carefully guides their pose.

  “Alright, two shots. Hold it… one, two, three.”

  Blitz! Blitz!

  Two camera flashes go off—at the same time, a streak of high-speed electro sparks zips past behind Tseryo and Vichel.

  Only after they finish holding their smiles for the photos do they exchange puzzled looks.

  “Felt like something just passed behind us,” Vichel says with certainty.

  “So it wasn’t just me,” Tseryo replies, equally curious.

  The mystery is solved once they receive the printed photos.

  “Zeff???”

  Vichel is shocked to find Zeff’s face in her picture with Tseryo—caught mid-run, flashing a peace sign at the camera right next to her.

  Vichel fumes. “What the heck is he doing? Totally ruined the picture! Ugh, so annoying!”

  “Does he have nothing better to do?” Tseryo mutters coldly, glaring at the photo in his hand.

  “You’ve got Zeff in yours too?” Vichel asks, peeking at his copy.

  Sure enough, Zeff is there—posing with a clenched fist right behind Tseryo’s head. No wonder the young master looks so irritated; his perfect moment has been spoiled.

  “Come on, Vichel. Let’s take another one.”

  “Huh? Again? B-but…” Vichel hesitates, knowing extra personal photos cost additional fees.

  “I’ll pay,” Tseryo says.

  “Okay!”

  Stolen story; please report.

  .

  The office of the Grand Master of Verlyn Academy. In a relaxed atmosphere, Lutzer Swan and Zeff sit on sofas facing each other, with a small table between them already set with drinks.

  “I hear your family has already enrolled you to serve Argoust’s Crown Prince,” Lutzer Swan says, just as he finishes pouring tea into two cups.

  “Yes. The request has already been approved by the palace, so I can’t cancel it—it would affect my family’s reputation. My father says once the crown prince ascends the throne as the next king of Argoust, my career will be brilliant. That’s why he pushed so hard to have me work under him.”

  “But your face tells a different story.”

  The reluctance is clear on Zeff’s expression. Lutzer Swan gestures for him to drink, while he takes his own cup first. Zeff pauses, watching his teacher sip before speaking.

  “I was hoping to receive some guidance from the Grand Master when you called me here.”

  “That was indeed my intention,” Lutzer Swan replies, setting his cup back on the table. “At least, before Miss Dels brought me the news of your placement under Crown Prince Argoust’s command.”

  Zeff stays silent, waiting to hear more.

  “My original advice was going to be for you to serve the third prince of Argoust.”

  “Prince William Alroy Vissarion?”

  “It seems you’ve already noticed his presence at this academy. You’ve been hearing the name William Alroy ever since your first year, back when you entered the battlemage competition, haven’t you?”

  A smile spreads across Zeff’s face, as if the name carries a personal memory for him.

  “I regret only managing to win after he had already graduated. I’ve always been curious about how strong his strikes really are.”

  “The same desire every champion had—challenging him to a duel in the arena. He’s the only student who ever created a new tradition in the battlemage competition.”

  Lutzer returned to the main topic.

  “About ten years ago, I met the three princes of Argoust when I attended as a peace delegate from Carrion.”

  He began recounting his visit to Argoust.

  “After witnessing the peace negotiations between Karsh and Argoust, the King of Argoust introduced me to his three sons: the first prince, Theofan Greig Vissarion, the second prince, Saunder Lexa Vissarion, and the third prince, William Alroy Vissarion. At the time, William was only fourteen years old.”

  “I told them about the excellence of Verlyn Academy, and out of courtesy, I said they would be welcome to study under me if they wished.”

  “But the response I got from the first prince was nothing more than the arrogance of a future ruler.”

  At that time, Prince Theofan answered with his chin lifted and a condescending gaze.

  “I highly doubt an academy like that would suit someone destined to be king. Even though I’ve inherited Father’s elemental power, sharpening my mind is far more important than honing combat skills—those are better left to soldiers.”

  The crown prince then turned his eyes to his younger brother beside him.

  “If only Saunder had been born a mage, maybe he could attend there and actually be useful to me.”

  The look on Theofan’s face as he spoke carried nothing but disappointment toward someone he clearly saw as a burden. And the only reaction from Saunder, the second prince, was to lower his head in silence, as if guilty.

  That was more than enough for Lutzer to grasp the personalities of the king’s two elder sons.

  “The first prince was exactly like a spoiled noble child, raised in luxury and never taught the difference between right and wrong. I heard that since he was just six months old, he was taken from the Queen and raised by the Dowager Queen.”

  “As for the second prince, perhaps because he was born to a concubine, he seemed belittled and looked down on himself as well. His personality was painfully weak and fragile.”

  “It startled me when the youngest prince suddenly cut in.”

  “Not being born a mage doesn’t make one useless. What’s truly a waste are those blessed with magic but never bother to train it.”

  The sharp words of young William, spoken firmly and without a hint of fear, became a stinging rebuke to Theofan. The crown prince was left speechless, his tongue tied, struggling to contain the rising fury within him.

  “Y-you…! How dare you speak to me like that!”

  “William Alroy, mind your words.” The King’s stern voice intervened between them.

  It was plain that the King always took his firstborn’s side. But instead of bowing in obedience, the young Prince William lifted his gaze and spoke directly to his father,

  “Father, with all due respect, if you continue to justify Theofan’s behavior, he will never grow to be a wise king like you.”

  Even the King himself was struck silent, unable to respond.

  Lutzer’s eyes brimmed with admiration for the youngest prince.

  “He was only fourteen, yet he already had the eloquence to win a debate. More importantly, he did it to defend the dignity of the second prince. To me, that revealed the kindness of his heart.”

  “Queen of Argoust was renowned for her political brilliance. The third prince was a reflection of her skill as a mother. I still wonder why the King ever allowed the first prince to be raised by the Dowager Queen instead.”

  Back in the present, Lutzer paused his story to take a sip from his cup.

  “After he became my student, I got to know William better, and the more I did, the more I admired the way he thinks. In my eyes, Argoust would be much stronger under his leadership. But for some reason, the king’s gaze is fixed only on his firstborn.”

  Zeff, who had been listening closely, spoke up.

  “Could it have something to do with the rumors—that the third prince is actually the queen’s illegitimate child?”