As Kenneth walked into the classroom, his eyes scanned the space—a room that felt as if it had leapt straight from the pages of the novel he'd been obsessively reading. The wooden desks, intricately carved with arcane symbols, and the tall arched windows bathed the room in a soft, golden light.

  The blend of medieval elegance and magic made it clear he was no longer in the mortal world.

  Sitting by the window was a blond-haired young man, engrossed in a book. His posture was poised, and his focus unwavering.

  Aine stepped forward, her lively voice breaking the stillness. “Lucian, we brought the successor of Fireon,” she said, gesturing toward Kenneth with a playful grin. “Kenneth, meet Lucian, the successor of Luminel. He's next in line for the Ultimate Light.”

  Kenneth nodded politely. “Nice to meet you.”

  Lucian glanced up briefly, his pale blue eyes meeting Kenneth's. There was a flicker of something—surprise, perhaps—but his expression quickly returned to a calm indifference. Without a word, he returned to his book, leaving Kenneth feeling slightly awkward.

  Aine gave an apologetic shrug, her smile tinged with awkwardness. “Don't mind him. He's still new to our class too. Takes a little while to warm up”

  Kenneth nodded, taking in Lucian's reserved demeanor. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more beneath the surface of this encounter.

  He decided not to press it and made his way to an empty seat.

  Barely had he sat down before Rika, Ash and Aine surrounded him like curious onlookers. Rika leaned forward, her tone curious. “So, how exactly did you end up as the successor of Fireon?”

  Kenneth hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Honestly? It wasn't something I planned. It just…happened. One moment, I was living a normal life, and the next, I awakened something. Before I knew it, I was here.”

  Kenneth decided to turn the tables, gesturing to the group. “But what about you guys? I didn't even know your successors either. Talk about surprise.”

  Rika and Ash exchanged quick glances, their expressions growing a little uneasy.

  “There are things we had to keep quiet in the mortal world,” Ash finally said, letting out a small sigh. “It's safer that way.”

  Rika nodded, “You probably wouldn't have known unless you were directly involved with us”

  Kenneth tilted his head, a question forming. “That makes sense, but how did I know about Lucian and Eumie's—I mean, Aine's—families before knowing about yours?”

  Aine blinked, her expression sharpening slightly at the mention of her alias, but Rika cut in smoothly before she could reply. “I'm from the Maridian family. Water Wizards. And Ash is from the Gairos family. Earth Wizards.”

  Kenneth raised their eyebrows, impressed. “Water and Earth guardians, huh? Makes sense now.” He leaned back in his seat, letting their words sink in.

  He hadn't expected his former schoolmates to be successors too, but it was starting to make more sense why they were here—and why they were so protective of their secrets.

  Ash looked genuinely impressed as he eyed Kenneth “Wow. President, you, of all people, ending up as the successor of Fireon? That's wild.”

  Kenneth let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Let's drop the President thing, Ash. That was back in the mortal world. Things are… different now.”

  Ash shrugged, smirking. “Old habits, you know?”

  Kenneth turned to Aine, curiosity gnawing at him. “By the way, has the position of Fireon successor always been empty? I thought… well, I thought they'd name someone sooner.”

  Aine's expression grew thoughtful, her arms crossing as she leaned against the desk. “After Fireon's downfall, it's like they just… vanished. No one's heard from them for years. Retainers left, joined other families, or disappeared entirely. And some think the bloodline was wiped out.”

  She leaned closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially, “But there are rumors—rumors that the king himself might've done something. Maybe he hid them to protect the family's legacy.”

  Rika gasped, her eyes lighting up with intrigue. “Wait. Don't tell me.” She leaned toward Kenneth, her tone laced with playful suspicion. “Are you the secret son of the Fire Guardian?”

  Ash's eyebrows shot up. “The Fire Guardian did have a son. Everyone knows that much. Is that you?”

  Kenneth's face flushed, and he quickly shook his head. “No. I mean, it's true that the Fire Guardian had a son, but it's not me.” He hesitated, his thoughts drifting to Joash—the one who should have carried this legacy. Guild prickled at him as he tried to brush off their curiosity.

  Rika tilted her head, her expression shifting as a new idea took root. Her voice softened, almost a whisper. “Then…are you the son from outside the family?”

  Ash and Aine froze, their gaze snapping to Kenneth. The room seemed to hold his breath.

  Kenneth hesitated, glancing at Rika. The memory of her visiting his apartment floated to the surface of his mind, offering a strange sense of both comfort and confusion.

  “Rika, you've met my parents before,” he began, his voice quieter, as if speaking the words would help him piece together the growing puzzle. “You know I'm not some long-lost son of the Fireon family. I look just like my dad.”

  Rika blinked, her expression softening as she recalled the visit. “Yeah, I did meet them. I remember thinking how much you resemble your father.”

  Kenneth exhaled, relieved that she remembered. “I'm not related to the Fireon family. The Ultimate Fire just… awakened in me. That's all.”

  Ash leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “That's the part that's so hard to wrap my head around. There's gotta be more to this, right? Things like this don't just happen.”

  Aine tilted her head thoughtfully, her brow furrowing. “Maybe it's not about bloodlines at all. Maybe it chose Kenneth for a reason.”

  Rika studied Kenneth, her concern clear. “Are you absolutely sure your parents never kept anything from you? I know it sounds like a stretch, but… what if there's something about your family that even you don't know?”

  Kenneth shook his head firmly, though the thought had crossed his mind more than once. “Trust me, I've thought about that. But my parents have always been upfront with me. And you've met them, Rika—they're just regular people. There's no big secret hiding in our family.”

  Rika nodded slowly, though doubt lingered in her eyes. “I know, but with everything happening now, it's hard to wonder. There's too much about this that doesn't add up.”

  The three of them exchanged glances, the lighthearted tone from earlier was gone, replaced by the tension none of them could ignore.

  Breaking the silence, Rika leaned in slightly, “How do you feel about all of this, Kenneth? About being the Fireon successor?”

  Kenneth's gaze dropped to the floor, his hand clenching briefly before he exhaled. Could he really accept this? The responsibility felt like a mountain pressing down on his shoulders, growing heavier with every passing day.

  And yet, what choice did he have?

  The Ultimate Fire hadn't chosen Joash or anyone else—it had chosen him. For reasons he couldn't begin to understand.

  After a pause, he finally spoke, his voice quieter but steady. “Do I really have a choice? It chose me. That's all there is to it.”

  The room fell into a brief silence. Ash shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence dulled by the gravity of the situation. Aine's expression softened, her usual energy replaced by quiet empathy.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Finally, Rika spoke again, her voice steady but filled with warmth. “You don't have to carry that alone, Kenneth. Whatever comes next, we're here for you.”

  Kenneth looked up, meeting her gaze. There was sincerity in her words that eased some of the weight on his chest, reminding him that even amidst all the uncertainty, he didn't have to face it himself.

  For now, that was enough.

  ＊＊＊

  They had a short break before the next session. Rika, Ash and Aine were called away by the professor to run some errands, leaving Kenneth on his own.

  Seizing the opportunity, he decided to explore the academy.

  The hallways stretched ahead, their stone walls illuminated by the soft glow of the lamps. As Kenneth wandered, a strange sense of deja vu tugged at him. The vaulted ceilings, the quiet hum of magic in the air—it all felt eerie familiar.

  This place…it's just like the academy in the novel, Kenneth thought.

  But the feeling went beyond what he'd read. It was visceral, like he had walked these halls before. A frown crept onto his face as the sensation settled deep in his chest, persistent and unsettling.

  Rounding the corner, Kenneth stopped abruptly.

  At the center of the courtyard stood a massive tree. Its sprawling roots seemed to anchor the entire academy, while its towering branches stretched toward the heavens, as though defying the sky itself.

  He'd seen it briefly from a distance before, but standing before it now, he felt its presence in a way that word couldn't capture.

  It wasn't just awe. It was familiarity.

  A memory—faint and distant—flickered in his mind. This tree… I’ve seen it before, but not just in the novel. It was as though a forgotten part of him stirred, some hidden fragment of his past that remained just out of reach. The feeling gnawed at him, growing stronger the longer he stood there.

  He took a step closer, drawn in by something he couldn’t name. The tree’s presence was overwhelming, as if it held a significance he had yet to understand.

  For a moment, Kenneth could almost hear it—an echo of something lost in time.

  Why do I feel like I’ve been here before? he wondered, his heart pounding. The déjà vu was no longer just an afterthought—it was a shadow of something long buried, something he wasn’t ready to face yet.

  While lost in his thoughts, Kenneth suddenly bumped into someone.

  "Watch where you're standing!" a guy yelled, his tone aggressive.

  Kenneth turned, startled, and found himself facing a tall young man with striking silver hair and an aggressive posture.

  “Sorry,” Kenneth said, stepping back quickly to diffuse the tension.

  The guy smirked, reaching for something near his chest. “A Commoner like you? Bumping into someone like me? Bold move.”

  Kenneth frowned, confused. “Who are you?”

  The smirk twisted into something colder. Before he could respond, another voice—belonging to someone standing beside him—cut in. “You seriously don't know who this is? This is Raiden Ekaitz, the successor of the Ultimate Lightning.”

  Kenneth's brow furrowed as recognition dawned. The last name rang a bell from the novel—the powerful family of lightning Wizards, often referred to as the Uncrowned Guardians. While not officially among the five Elemental Guardians, they had always sought to claim that status.

  Before Kenneth could respond, he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

  "Ash?" Kenneth looked up as Ash approached, his expression darkening the moment he laid eyes on Raiden.

  Raiden sneered, tilting his head. “Oh, look who it is. Ash Gairos. Still hanging out with Commoners? Is that what your time in the mortal world taught you?”

  Ash rolled his eyes, his voice steady with barely concealed irritation. "At least the people treat others with decency. Something you still haven't learned, it seems."

  The air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Raiden clicked his tongue with annoyance, waving a hand dismissively. “Let's go,” he muttered to his companions, turning on his heel.

  But Ash wasn't done. “Raiden,” he called out, his voice firm enough to stop the boy in his tracks. “Don't even think about trying to claim Fireon's place. You'll regret it.”

  Raiden turned slightly, his smirks gone, but he didn't respond. With a flick of his coat, he continued down the hallway, his group trailing behind.

  After Raiden and his group disappeared down the hallway, Ash turned back to Kenneth, his expression softening. “Sorry about that. I should've stuck around earlier,” he said, slipping a small box out of his pocket. “"Here is for you.”

  Kenneth took the box, raising an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  “Open it and see,” Ash said with a grin.

  Kenneth flipped the box open to reveal a small, intricately designed pin. It shimmered faintly in the light, bearing the emblem of the Special Division.

  “That's the pin for students in the Special Division,” Ash explained. “It took a while for them to make it, but now that you have it, no one will dare question your place here.”

  Kenneth held the pin between his fingers, tracing its edge. The metal felt against the skin, the weight of it heavier than it looked. Slowly, he hastened it to his chest.

  “Thanks,” Kenneth said. Yet, as he looked down at the pin, a thought gnawed at him.

  Do I even deserve this?

  Ash gave him a pat on the shoulder, seemingly unaware of Kenneth's inner turmoil. “Don’t overthink it. You're here for a reason,” he said, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Let's head back before the professor starts wondering where we are.”

  Kenneth nodded, following Ash down the hallway.

  ＊＊＊

  Kenneth and Ash entered the large classroom, where students from all three divisions—Theory, Practical, and Special—gathered were scattered across the room.

  Kenneth's eyes quickly landed on Rika, Aine and Lucian, seated together near the center. Rika caught his gaze and gave him a cheerful wave, her warm smile cutting through the tension felt.

  As he moved to his seat, Kenneth couldn't ignore the hushed whisper that rippled through the room.

  “Is that him? The Fireon Successor?”

  “I thought Fireon didn't have any heirs left…”

  “Do you think he can really bring the fire magic back?”

  The words hung in the air, pressing on Kenneth like an invisible weight. He tried to focus, keeping his steps steady, but the stares bore into him.

  Settling into his seat, he glanced around the room, his gaze catching Joash seated at the back. Joash looked up briefly before quickly averting his eyes, his expression unreadable.

  The door opened, and the murmurs instantly ceased. A man stepped in, his presence commanding immediate attention. He looked to be in his early 30s.

  “I am Professor Rowan,” he began. “Welcome to this join session. As some of you may know, this is a rare opportunity to collaborate across divisions. I expect focus and discipline.”

  Kenneth felt a jolt of recognition. He recognized the name.

  In the novel, Rowan had been a pivotal figure—a Commoner who defied tradition and became the first of his kind to attend Mageia Academy. More than that, he had revolutionized magic itself.

  Rowan had discovered that powerful spells could be shortened, condensing what once required long incantation into just two or three lines. This breakthrough allowed Wizards to cast them in a fraction of time, forever changing the way magic was practiced.

  It was a feat that earned him a place in Mageia Academy's history—and in the grudging respect of even the most skeptical Wizards.

  “I'll be teaching you Magic Construction,” Rowan announced, his voice calm but commanding as he addressed the room.

  There was a sudden scoff. Kenneth turned toward the source of the sound and saw a student from the Practical Division, one of Raiden's usual followers, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

  “You?” the student sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. “A mere Commoner teaching us magic? How absurd.”

  The room fell deathly silent, the tension palpable. Many of the Theory Division students bristled at the insult, their glares boring into the offender.

  For them, Rowan wasn't just a professor—he was the proof that a Commoner could rise above societal expectations and redefine what it meant to wield magic. Even some of the Practical Division students exchanged glances, clearly uncomfortable with the blatant disrespect.

  Rowan, however, remains unfazed. His calm demeanor didn't falter, though there was a flicker of something sharp in his eyes as he regarded the student.

  “You seem confident,” Rowan said evenly. “Why don't you demonstrate your skills, then?”

  The student smirked, rising from his seat. “Gladly,” he said, his hands already moving to cast a spell. Without hesitation, he summoned an array of sharp icicles, their pointed tips gleaming as they hurtled toward Rowan with alarming speed.

  Kenneth tensed, expecting Rowan to dodge or shield himself. But the professor didn't flinch. Instead, he reached into his robe with deliberate calm and drew out a simple, unadorned wand.

  With a single, fluid motion, he flicked his wrist, with a shimmering barrier of light materialized between him and the incoming attack.

  The icicles shattered against the barrier, their fragments falling harmlessly to the ground. The ground of the impact echoed through the room, followed by stunned silence.

  The room was still, shocked by how quickly the situation had escalated—and how easily Rowan had handled it.

  Rowan glanced down at his wand, noticing that it had crumbled into dust in his hand.

  He gave a small, calm smile. “Well, looks like the prototype didn’t last long,” he remarked, his tone light, as though nothing serious had happened.

  He then turned his gaze toward the offending student. “Magic isn't about arrogance or brute strength. It's about precision, understanding, and control. Qualities you clearly lack.”

  The Practical Division student flushed with anger and embarrassment but said nothing. Rowan turned back to the class, addressing them as if the interruption never happened.

  “Now, as I was saying,” he continued smoothly. “Magic Construction is about breaking spells down to their core principles. It's not just about casting spells faster—it's about understanding how they work, and how to adapt them in real-time. Master this, and you'll find that even the most complex magic can become accessible.”

  The students sat in rapt silence, the silent tension dissipating as Rowan's commanding presence filled the room once more.

  Kenneth leaned forward slightly, his curiosity piqued.

  For the first time since arriving at the academy, he felt a flicker of genuine excitement.