“Phew, today’s class was so tough.”
Dorothy stretched her body with effort, letting out a content sigh.
Having survived yet another class of Advanced Illusions—a subject infamous for making students drop out—she finally felt the tension lift from her shoulders.
Dorothy’s focus was still on Crystal Magic and Word Magic.
If it hadn’t been for her cheapskate teacher outright telling her she wouldn’t be promoted to the upper division unless she learned Advanced Illusions, she never would’ve forced herself to sit through it.
Just the thought that one more semester would free her from this prison made her feel relieved.
“You always say it’s hard, but I’ve never seen you score outside the top three.”
Lucia, already packed and standing in front of Dorothy’s desk, frowned with mock annoyance at her humblebrag.
“Heh, well, I am a genius, after all.”
Dorothy tugged at the brim of her witch’s hat and chuckled smugly.
“If anyone else heard you say that, they’d call you arrogant.”
“But you’re not anyone else, Lucia.”
Dorothy shrugged nonchalantly, casually tossing her spellbook into her witch’s sigil and getting to her feet.
“How about we go for a stroll? I’ve got nothing better to do right now.”
She had plans to meet Sheffil after class, and there were still at least two hours to go.
Wandering around with Lucia to relax didn’t sound too bad.
“Sure! Where to?”
Lucia, snapping out of her thoughts, agreed instantly without hesitation.
If this had been before, she might’ve played coy, but now she would never pass up a chance to spend time with Dorothy.
Never.
“Hmm… let’s just walk for now. Maybe something will come to mind.”
Dorothy tapped her chin for a moment before tossing the thought aside and speaking freely, true to her nature.
Those who knew her well understood that she wasn’t the type to overthink things.
Despite the genius persona others attributed to her, Dorothy was more like the wind—free-spirited and whimsical, doing whatever struck her in the moment.
You couldn’t control the wind, and Dorothy was the same—her closeness to you depended entirely on her mood.
To those who coveted everything about her, trying to tame the breeze of the heavens was nothing but a fool’s dream.
Did Lucia not understand this?
Of course she did.
And so, she would spare no effort, no means, no scheme in gently capturing this gust of wind before her, locking it away in the gilded cage she’d built.
Until that day came, she would endure in silence.
A wise hunter never startles their prey before the fatal strike.
Compared to standing back and watching Dorothy nestle happily in someone else’s arms—smiling and crying all at once—Lucia didn’t mind lying low for now.
Burying those dark thoughts deep in the lake of her heart, Lucia quickened her pace to keep up with Dorothy.
Summer had come.
The dampness in the air had given way to a heavy warmth, accompanied by the rhythmic chorus of cicadas.
The lawns lining the walkways, once merely lush and green, now bloomed in a riot of colors—vibrant flowers thriving under the still-gentle sunlight.
The two girls strolled side by side, leisurely walking through a sea of blossoms.
A few butterflies, drawn by their fragrance, fluttered near and occasionally landed on the white-haired witch’s hat, prompting giggles from the dark green-haired girl walking beside her.
“What’s so funny?”
Dorothy puffed her cheeks and batted at her hat.
Lucia, trying to suppress her smile, couldn’t stop her lips from curling up at the sight of Dorothy’s flustered expression.
Dorothy was easy to read—her emotions always worn on her sleeve.
And that was something Lucia found endlessly endearing.
So unlike her childhood friend, whose true feelings always had to be guessed.
“Okay, okay, stop laughing already.”
Dorothy finally couldn’t take it anymore.
She hurriedly pulled her hat back on to cover her face and changed the subject, a little too forcefully.
“By the way, Lucia, did you hear? There’s been some unrest in the West District lately.”
“The West District?”
Lucia picked up on the shift in topic and played along, her smile fading.
“Yeah, overheard it during class,” Dorothy said, slipping into a mysterious tone.
“Apparently, a merfolk student beat a student council officer so badly they ended up in the hospital.”
“Merfolk? And… the student council?”
Lucia blinked, surprised at the names involved.
Jadecrest Academy was divided into four districts.
The East District, where lower-year students attended cultural courses, was the smallest.
The North District housed senior students who had survived three years without being expelled.
The South District—the one they currently stood in—was the largest and focused on self-guided magical studies.
And the West District?
That was where the real competition began.
As the Empire’s top academy, Jadecrest’s mission wasn’t to cultivate outstanding students—it was to forge exceptional warriors.
The West District was the heart of that harsh education.
Those who wanted access to better training resources—beyond the support of a strong family or a powerful mentor—had to venture there.
That was where tasks were handed out, resources exchanged, magic tomes sold, and fierce battles played out in the arenas.
The Academy’s finest resources, whether officially distributed or traded on the black market, flowed through the West District.
There were items dismissed by mentors as useless but prized by students, and rare, high-grade goods others couldn’t use and were forced to sell.
Because the administration turned a blind eye to what happened there, the West District lacked the strong security presence seen elsewhere.
Apart from a few hours a day when instructors oversaw transactions, safety was anything but guaranteed.
To make matters worse, the district was crawling with factions from outside the Academy, who used the lack of oversight to carry out all sorts of shady dealings.
Students operating in the West District had to abandon their usual mindset and stay alert at all times.
But even so, an attack on the student council?
That was the first time Dorothy had heard of anything like that.
And more importantly—
“Merfolk…? Do we even have merfolk at this academy?”
“I don’t think so?” Lucia pinched her chin thoughtfully.
From what she’d heard in the commercial district, merfolk had become rare over the past few centuries—so rare that they no longer appeared in front of humans, let alone enrolled at Jadecrest.
“As you both suspected, there are indeed no merfolk here.”
“I knew it! No way there could—who?!”
Dorothy’s confident laugh froze on her face as she spun toward the unfamiliar voice that had interrupted them.
“?”
Standing before the two girls was a student with long, faded tea-colored hair.
More importantly—
She had a pair of dragon horns atop her head.