Olivia: "Ah, today's the release date. I assume our school's story made the headlines?"
She took the magazine, and the moment the words "our school" left her lips, Alpheas smiled faintly.
But that warmth vanished the instant she saw the cover.
The headline screamed:
"EXCLUSIVE! INTERVIEW WITH SHIRONE'S PARENTS!"
"The Student Who Defeated Dante—A Hunter's Child?!"
Olivia frowned.
Shirone's parents? And what did they mean by "hunter's child"?
Kilaine was ruthless, but she wasn't foolish enough to publish outright lies.
A cold sweat trickled down Alpheas's spine.
This wasn't a distortion—it was the truth.
Only a handful at the school knew Shirone's origins. But if Kilaine had dug into his background, even Shirone's parents wouldn't have been able to withstand a professional reporter's interrogation.
Olivia flipped through the pages, scanning the article rapidly.
Every detail of Shirone's victory over Dante was laid bare, complete with photographs.
So the record wasn't destroyed after all.
But the article wasn't fabricated.
Exaggerated? Yes. But outright falsehoods would have gotten Kilaine expelled on the spot.
"It's true? Shirone… is a hunter's child?"
Olivia turned to Alpheas, demanding an explanation.
Alpheas nodded grimly.
Alpheas: "Yes. Shirone is the son of hunters. But he was admitted through a special recommendation from the Ozent family. Even most faculty didn't know—Sade included."
Olivia's expression darkened.
Olivia: "That's not the point. Why hide it from me? At the very least, the headmaster should have known!"
Alpheas had his own grievances.
He knew better than anyone that Olivia was discreet and trustworthy. The problem was, he never anticipated this situation.
Alpheas: "It wasn't about hiding it—I just never thought to bring it up. It's been a year, and no one ever questioned his background."
Seeing his pained expression, Olivia relented and fell into thought.
Shirone's personality was undeniably unique. Once you got to know him, his origins became irrelevant.
But in a place teeming with people, trouble was inevitable.
Olivia: "Honestly, you're too naïve. No matter how many allies Shirone has, there will always be envious students. You should've anticipated this. Had I known, I could've prevented it."
For once, Alpheas had no rebuttal.
He excelled at guiding students but had no talent for politics.
After a moment of deliberation, Olivia made her decision.
Olivia: "Professor Sade."
Sade: "Yes, Headmaster?"
Olivia: "Summon Kilaine immediately. Tell her if she doesn't come within 24 hours, I'll find her myself."
Sade: "Understood."
He bowed and left.
The School's Reaction
The revelation of Shirone's origins sent Alpheas Magic Academy into an uproar.
While the teachers were shocked, the real chaos came from the students.
Olivia's prediction had been accurate.
Though most seemed to adore Shirone, a silent minority had always resented his talent. Now, with this scandal, they attacked him like piranhas scenting blood.
The school cafeteria buzzed with students after classes ended.
With the advanced class's practical exams over, many had free time—but the library was no place to gossip about Shirone.
A group of mid-ranking students from Class Four huddled in a corner, tearing into Shirone as if paid to do so.
Student 1: "Tch! This is ridiculous. We've been studying alongside a commoner?"
Student 2: "Not just any commoner—a hunter's kid. Disgusting. I can't believe we shared a classroom."
Student 3: "No wonder he seemed slow sometimes. Blood tells. He's only been learning magic for a year—no wonder he couldn't even cast basic spells."
They conveniently ignored one fact:
That same Shirone had risen to become the academy's top student in just a year. No—the kingdom's top.
They all sensed the contradiction but refused to voice it. What they wanted was to drag him down, genius or not.
Leaning against a vending machine, Closer scoffed at their pettiness.
Closer: "Pathetic. Even without Shirone, these guys would never crack the top ranks."
Sabina, too, found their cowardly backbiting distasteful.
She had no love for Shirone—her rival—but her pride as a top student refused to let her be lumped with such mediocrity.
Sabina: "Dante, what do you think?"
"What?"
Dante paid no attention to the gossip about Shirone and instead kept his eyes fixed on the menu board above the counter.
"I mean Shirone. It's shocking, isn't it? That he wasn't nobility."
Dante blinked, then turned to his friends and asked:
"Hey, what are you guys drinking?"
Sabina raised her hand.
"Orange juice for me. My skin's been dry lately, so I need some vitamins."
"Oh? Then I'll have an iced coffee—I'm thirsty. What about you, Closer?"
Closer stared straight at Dante.
The day after his Icheon battle defeat, Dante hadn't even shown up to class, opting to rest instead. The school had granted him leave, partly because the anti-magic backlash had taken its toll—but in truth, the real damage wasn't to his body. It was his pride.
A day passed, and the next morning, Dante finally reappeared.
Naturally, all eyes were on him, but he acted as if nothing had happened, attending lectures with his usual demeanor.
'Dante… are you really okay?'
No one could guess what he was thinking.
If he were plotting revenge, he'd be preparing for a rematch. If he had accepted Shirone's superiority, he should've left the school already. The semester was almost over—it was time to start packing.
But Dante said nothing about his future.
"Um, Senior Dante…"
A girl from Class Five approached him, her cheeks flushed.
"Hm?"
Dante turned to her, the straw of his iced coffee between his lips.
"I—I just wanted to say, your duel was really impressive."
Closer and Sabina felt their hearts drop.
Even for someone oblivious, this was too much—bringing up something the person involved was deliberately avoiding. But the naive girl seemed to believe that sincerity excused any words.
"Even though you lost, I don't think you were really defeated. You know how some rivals are eternal? Next time, I'm sure you'll win!"
Sabina subtly checked Dante's reaction.
Contrary to expectations, Dante showed no particular emotion. He simply blinked and replied indifferently:
"Yeah, thanks."
His friends were stunned.
This was Dante, the man who once believed a single defeat was tantamount to death. Such a calm response was abnormal.
'Has the shock of losing messed with his head?'
The girl, delighted by his gratitude, hurried back to her friends with an excited expression.
Now that they noticed, every student was watching them. The cafeteria had fallen silent.
Dante only realized the weight of their stares when he finally glanced around. Then, as if it didn't matter, he took another sip of his coffee at the empty table.
Closer returned with the same drink Dante had ordered and slammed it onto the table. Sitting across from him, he whispered sharply:
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Shirone. It's weird that you're not saying anything about this."
"What's there to say?"
"Fine, ignore Shirone for now. But the duel's over—you should at least address something. Are you really just going to roll over and give up? You need to reclaim your title as the kingdom's top student!"
Dante let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh.
"The kingdom's top student? Hah…"
Frustrated by his lukewarm response, Closer thumped his chest.
He's definitely in a serious slump.
The shock of losing to Shirone must have crushed his drive entirely.
"You're really—!"
Just as Closer raised his voice, the cafeteria door swung open.
Neid and Iruki walked in.
Every student's gaze snapped toward them.
It was an inevitable reunion—the very parties who had fought tooth and nail for three weeks.
Some were disappointed Shirone wasn't with them, but others thought, What face could he possibly show here?
Every student in this school outranked Shirone.
They were nobles. He was a commoner.
By societal norms, if ordered to lick their boots, Shirone should obey without complaint.
Of course, as intellectuals, they knew that wasn't right—but none were willing to abandon the privileges they were born with.
Sensing the tense atmosphere, Iruki scanned the room—and locked eyes with Dante.
Dante didn't look away.
The students held their breaths, anticipating a confrontation—but Iruki's words were unexpectedly bland.
"You're here? Surprising. Didn't think you'd show up in a place like this."
Dante raised his coffee.
"I was thirsty. What about you? This isn't like you."
Since childhood, Iruki had eccentric tastes—he rarely bought food unless necessary, believing it dulled the mind. Back then, his peers had found him strange, but Dante had seen the logic in it.
Even now, he remembered Iruki's peculiar habits.
Iruki shrugged and walked toward the counter.
"Shirone skipped dinner. Grabbing something for him."
Dante nodded in understanding.
"Makes sense. How's he holding up?"
"…Alright, I guess. But I think he's a little shaken."
"Really? That's unexpected."
Dante meant it.
During their Icheon duel, he had experienced firsthand the vastness of Shirone's mind through their high-speed exchange of spells. Shirone wasn't the type to hide over something like this.
"Well… he's sensitive about family. Kilaine took an interview with his parents without permission. He's pissed."
Dante recalled Kilaine.
That sounded exactly like her.
If Shirone's parents knew the school was in an uproar because of them, their guilt would be unbearable.
Shirone hated that—so he was probably lying low, waiting for this storm to pass.
"Hey, Iruki, you're still hanging around Shirone after all this?"
James, one of the boys badmouthing Shirone earlier, shot to his feet and pointed at Iruki.
The mid-ranking students wanted Dante and Shirone's factions to clash. If the two sides exhausted each other, it would create an opening for them to rise.
But when no conflict erupted, James decided to provoke Iruki himself.
"The Mercordains are the kingdom's top family, right? Doesn't this feel like betrayal? Shirone's far beneath you, yet he pretended to be your equal. And now you're running errands for him?"
Iruki wagged a finger, almost proudly.
"Why wouldn't I? First, Shirone's my friend. Second, he's hungry. Third—we already knew he was a commoner. That's what friends do, isn't it?"
"Wha—what?"
James gaped in disbelief.
It was possible—the three were inseparable, so Shirone might've told them. But how could they still treat him as a friend after that?
Neid stepped forward. Though he got along with everyone, Shirone's situation forced him to take sides.
"Enough. Yes, Shirone being a commoner is shocking, but it's not like he lied on purpose. If anyone had asked, he would've told the truth—that's just how he is. Attacking a fellow student over something unrelated to magic isn't right."
"Bullshit!"
"Competition? Don't make me laugh! He's a commoner! Do you befriend commoners outside? No! Your family has servants—commoners who wait on you hand and foot! How can you just accept Shirone?"
Neid sighed.
Arguing was pointless.
James wasn't wrong—and his feelings were understandable.
But so what? Shirone was his closest friend. Seeing him hurt was the last thing Neid wanted.
Deciding Iruki and Neid were beyond reason, James turned to Dante.
"Dante! You say something! You're the most humiliated here—losing to a commoner!"
Dante looked at him like he was insane.
"Since when does anger care about class? I lost. That's it."
It was the first time he'd addressed the duel—yet his tone was still detached.
Finally, James realized the truth.
Neither Dante's group nor Shirone's wants anything to do with the mid-rankers.
They were avoiding reality, as if badmouthing Shirone would make them equals.
James trembled, then snapped.
"So that's it? You're all clinging to Shirone now that no one can beat him? If you side with him, you'll look impressive too, right? Don't act high and mighty—you're all just losers!"
Dante swirled the ice in his coffee.
"That's harsh. I'm the one who lost, so why are you so worked up?"
"Stop pretending! You're seething inside! How can you act so calm after getting crushed like that? Admit it! You were beaten unconscious—what kind of life are you living now?"
"These bastards—!"
Closer had enough. Before Dante's loss, these kids wouldn't even meet their eyes—now they were running their mouths freely.
"Drop it. Let it go."
Dante stopped him, then looked up at the ceiling. After a long pause, he spoke slowly.
"What if… I'd simplified the automaton's design?"
James's face twisted.
"What? What nonsense is this?"
"Pascal's circuits should've been more intuitive. Separate roles—attack for offense, defense for protection. Too many basic spells cluttered it. If I'd dropped Fireball and only used Wind Cutter, mobility would've improved."
The students stared blankly as Dante rambled.
Iruki and Neid listened intently.
That strategy might have changed the duel's outcome.
James, however, was shaking with rage.
Dante stood, coffee in hand, and walked toward him.
"If you're asking what I'm thinking—my mind is full of magic. We are at a magic school. So tell me, what does Shirone being a commoner or noble have to do with your spells?"
James's face turned beet red.
Humiliation crashed over him like a wave. He wanted to flee—but couldn't show such weakness in front of underclassmen.
Outmatched in logic, he resorted to spite.
"Shut up! And what about you? You didn't even kneel to Shirone! All that big talk about 'death before surrender,' yet here you are, still alive!"
Closer's eyes turned icy.
"James. Do you want to die?"
James flinched—but the words were already out.
Besides, Closer was the one who'd beaten Iruki senseless before. He wouldn't resort to violence here.
"It's the truth! Admit it! You're just a hypocrite!"
Dante fell silent.
Not because he was deep in thought—he was just waiting for Shirone's voice in his head to fade.
"Well…"
He shrugged.
"Turns out I don't want to die. Death is scary."
"Wh—what?"
Iruki burst out laughing.
Not at Dante—death was terrifying to anyone. As Shirone said, they were only human.
He didn't like Dante, but he appreciated his straightforwardness—like an automaton's logic.
"I was ready to die in that fight. But now that it's over… I don't want to. That's all. And I won't kneel, either."
James lost it.
Dante's group, Shirone's group—none of them made sense. To him, they were all lunatics.
"Hah! I get it now. You're just another loser who bowed to Shirone! You never had the guts to die! Why don't you crawl back to your precious Royal Magic Academy?"
Closer decided then and there to pummel James into paste.
He'd held back until now, not wanting to seem like a sore loser—but insulting Dante crossed the line.
"Dante, don't stop me this time."
Cracking his knuckles, Closer advanced.
Yet again, Dante held him back.
"Let it go. This is just how losers are treated. No point proving anything."
Closer looked ready to explode with frustration.
"Dante…"
But Dante was fine.
James's words were just noise—meaningless babble.
Hadn't he left school as a child because he hated kids like this? So obsessed with others they had no time for self-reflection?
Dante smiled at the fuming James.
"Also, James—I'm not going back to the Royal Magic Academy. I'll stay at Alpheas Magic School. I'm graduating here."
Closer's anger vanished, replaced by shock.
Dante had never mentioned his plans before—this was sudden.
Sabina stared in disbelief.
"Dante, really? Professor Olivia hasn't even confirmed if she'll accept the vice-principal position yet."
"Doesn't matter. If Shirone's here, then so am I."
Closer's eyes lit up.
"So you are planning a rematch? When?"
"That's not up to me. I lost—I won't force it. But I do still have one chance to redeem myself. I can't leave without taking it."
"Huh? What chance?"
Dante glanced at Iruki.
"The graduation exam. No magic student can skip it—and Shirone will take it too."
Iruki nodded.
"Obviously."
At last, Dante felt lighter.
There were still variables to consider—but declaring his intentions lifted a weight off his chest.
As Shirone Said, He Was Just Human
There was no need to obsess over trivial win rates.
Dante planned to start anew from here.
Dante: "Closer, I'll take the graduation exam here. And I'll definitely surpass Shirone to graduate as the top student."
Closer clenched his muscles and roared enthusiastically.
Closer: "Good! This time, we'll win for sure! Starting today, we're going into special training!"
Neid pulled Iruki closer and smirked.
Neid: "Haha! You think taking first place will be that easy? Do we look like we'll just sit back and let you?"
Dante nodded as if acknowledging the challenge.
Neid and Iruki—they were indeed formidable rivals, no less threatening than Shirone.
Dante: "Fine, bring it on. First place will be mine anyway."
He then turned to James, who stood frozen like a sack of barley.
Dante: "You better prepare hard too. After all, you need to graduate to become a mage, right?"
James didn't answer. He simply lowered his head and walked out of the store.
Even the students who had been badmouthing Shirone exchanged uneasy glances before quietly slipping away. With Shirone's group already overwhelming, Dante's faction joining the competition in the advanced class made the future seem bleak.
Dante tossed his empty coffee cup into the trash and headed for the door.
Dante: "We're leaving. Tell Shirone I won't lose to him next time."
Iruki scoffed.
Iruki: "Why not tell him yourself?"
Dante paused briefly, glancing at the ceiling before replying.
Dante: "Well, I could. Maybe later when I have time."
Then, as if nothing had happened, he pushed the door open and left.
His cool, carefree attitude seemed innate.
Suddenly, the door swung open again—Sabina stormed in.
She glared at Neid, gnawing her lip before striding forward with determination.
Now that Dante had resolved to rise again, she had to overcome her fear of Neid.
When Sabina's eyes widened, Neid instinctively pulled his neck back.
He knew she feared him ever since the lynch incident. While it was true her family had insulted his, he still felt guilty for instilling such terror in her.
Sabina: "N-Next time we meet… I won't hold back!"
The sheer courage it must have taken for her to say that was palpable.
Neid decided to forgive her.
Though he had no interest in mage certifications, he wanted a fair competition until graduation.
Neid: "Sure, let's have a proper match next time."
Sabina: "Hmph!"
Blushing, she bolted out of the store, her heart pounding with triumph.
Iruki stared blankly at her retreating figure.
Iruki: "What was that about?"
Clueless about the context, he couldn't grasp the meaning behind their exchange.
Even Neid, who would usually explain, stayed silent.
Iruki: "What's going on? Did you… have something with Sabina?"
Neid flinched and waved his hands.
Neid: "No! Sabina is just… Ugh, never mind. It's complicated."
Seeing he didn't want to talk, Iruki dropped it. Whatever their relationship was, it was their business.
Though personally, Iruki wouldn't mind supporting it. He disliked Sabina, but if she could help dispel the ghosts haunting Neid's heart, it might be a good thing.
Iruki: "Alright. Anyway, let's grab our stuff and go. Shirone's waiting."