Rush stood watching the sunrise.
The eastern sky was a canvas of pale gold and deepening orange, the first rays of light spilling over the Academy walls and painting the grass in warm hues.
Beelzebub surfaced.
"You should tell Nia to come out."
Rush blinked.
What? She's here?
"Yes. Since you arrived."
Rush turned toward the oak tree at the boundary of the pavement, its bare branches silhouetted against the brightening sky. He still couldn't sense her.
"You can come out, Nia."
A moment of hesitation. Then a figure emerged from behind the trunk—short black hair, careful posture, dark eyes that missed nothing. Nia stepped forward, looking slightly surprised.
"How did you notice me? I concealed my presence."
Rush moved to the stone bench and sat.
"Your concealment was impressive."
"Then how? " Nia asked.
Rush shrugged.
"I was just lucky."
It wasn't luck, and they both knew it. But Nia didn't press. She simply moved toward him, her footsteps silent on the grass. Rush gestured for her to sit beside him. After a brief hesitation, she did.
"So why are you here?" he asked.
"I just saw you coming this way and followed."
Rush didn't believe her. She was his retainer. His father had given her orders to protect him.
Rush smiled—a small, tired thing.
"Okay. I'll go with that."
Nia's lips twitched, the ghost of a smile.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Rush looked at the sun, climbing higher, growing brighter with each passing moment.
Then Nia spoke.
"Can I ask you something?"
Rush turned to look at her.
"Yes. No formalities. Like I told you before."
Nia studied him — the master she chose to protect, to be by his side always.
"So what Rosetta said..." She paused. "Are you going to meet the elders of the Elven kingdom?"
Rush nodded.
"Yes. They may have a cure for my core. This broken core is limiting me. And with me being a Ryanheart, the demons after me..."
He looked down at his hands.
"I can't afford to be weak."
His voice carried concern mixed with determination—a will to get stronger that refused to break. Nia looked into his eyes. Brown, with flecks of violet. There was a fire there. A purpose.
"If you think that's the right thing to do," she said quietly, "I will be there with you after the Hexan Crucible. Also... Lord Ryanheart should be informed."
Rush got up.
"I'm glad. And for telling father about it, I'll write a letter to him."
He started walking toward the Academy. Nia fell into step beside him.
They walked in silence for a while, the sounds of the waking Academy gradually filtering in—distant voices, the clatter of shutters being opened, the first bells of the morning.
Then Nia spoke again.
"Can I ask one more question?"
Rush didn't slow his pace.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you use Frieren from the beginning of the battle? That's what you call it, right?"
Rush knew it was coming. He had expected it. He was quiet for several steps.
"Because once I used it..."
He paused.
"I couldn't take it back."
Nia waited.
"People would've started asking questions."
"Like I'm asking now?"
Rush smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
"Then why reveal it?"
Rush stopped walking. He turned to face her.
"Richard crossed a line."
Nia held his gaze. She didn't need to ask what line. She had been there. She had heard the taunt about Lord Erwin.
"I understand," she said simply.
Then they continued walking.
***
They parted ways near the dormitory gates. Nia disappeared into the shadows of the eastern wing, silent as always. Rush climbed the stairs to his room, his footsteps heavy with exhaustion.
The room was quiet. The morning light spilled through the window, casting pale shapes across the floor. Rush sat at the desk near the window without wasting time.
He pulled out a sheet of parchment and a pen.
[ Father,
I hope this letter finds you well.
Much has happened since I last wrote. The inter-squad trials are almost complete. I fought Richard Dragonean in the semifinals. The battle was intense.
But I am writing for another reason.
Richard spoke of you during our battle. He carries a hatred for our family that goes beyond rivalry. He spoke of the Ryanheart legacy with venom. I need to know the truth, Father. Was his grandfather, Alcristo Dragonean, assassinated? And were you involved?
I ask not to judge. I ask to understand. I am surrounded by enemies I do not fully comprehend, and I cannot fight what I do not know.
There is more. Rosetta Eldorawich, the Student Council secretary, has told me of a possible cure for my fractured core. It lies in the Elven kingdom—the Heart, she called it. The Hexan Crucible will be held in Elcaster this year. After the Crucible, I am to meet the elders of the Royal House of Eldorawich.
I will pursue this path. I must. But I need to know the truth about our family before I step into Elven territory, where the Ryanheart name is not welcome.
Please write to me when you can.
Your son,
Rush ]
***
He read the letter once, then folded it carefully. He pressed the Ryanheart seal into the wax. A symbol that carried weight.
He set the letter on the desk and gathered a small thread of mana. The Khaos Blocker hummed beneath his sleeve, absorbing the excess mana. He only needed a thread.
Konstrukt.
Violet mana seeped from his palm, taking the shape of a raven. Its wings folded flat, waiting. He pressed the sealed letter against its chest. The construct absorbed it.
"Castle Hart," Rush said quietly.
The raven's wings unfolded. It lifted from his palm without sound, catching the morning air, and disappeared through the window, a small dark shape rising above the rooftops before vanishing into the pale sky.
Rush watched it go for a moment.
Then he leaned back in his chair.
Now, the only thing he had to do was wait.
Wait for his father's reply.
Wait for the final battle of the inter-squad trials.
And wait for the announcement of the squads for the biggest event of his life — the Hexan Crucible.
He closed his eyes. The room was quiet.
The silence was not empty.
It was full of waiting.