A sharp thud struck the stone wall, echoing down the hallway and drawing a few wandering eyes from students passing by.

  Stray students passing by paused mid-step, gncing toward the sound with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, only to quickly look away once they recognized who was involved. The hall seemed to shrink under the weight of the incident, the echo lingering like a warning.

  “Ow…” Saya whispered as a hand, glittering with expensive rings, pinched her right ear and forced her head downward.

  The gesture was carried out with the effortless authority of someone long accustomed to dispensing discipline, the faint jingle of jewelry punctuating her dominance.

  “My, my,” a refined, high-pitched voice remarked coldly. “What an unbecoming sound, truly a mudbiter to the core.”

  “That’s not quite right, Veronica,” another voice sneered, “even mudbiters have an affinity for the elements.”

  Despite the commotion that stirred within the academy halls, no professors or students gathered around. The person before her was infamous for bending rules to her whim.

  While Albo treated the rules as mere suggestions, Veronica openly modified them to her liking. Other students were bound by regutions and required to don their uniforms; Veronica was unburdened by such constraints.

  She wore a long, vish dress, its soft fabric flowing freely, adorned with expensive jewelry draped across her neck, ears, and hands, each piece demanding attention from anyone who dared enter her vicinity.

  Her orange eyes matched that of the dress she was wearing, complimenting the red-blond hair on her head with elegant precision, almost as if she was destined to bear the colors that she possessed.

  At the Ka Magic Academy, no matter how exalted a student’s status might be, they all stood beneath the foreign imperial daughter.

  A true favorite.

  In essence, it went against everything the academy and the nation valued. Though official policy stated that every student, regardless of rank, was to be treated equally, that promise had been shattered on her very first day three years ago.

  Professors and faculty who attempted to oppose this imbance found their careers abruptly ended.

  “Honestly,” a third voice remarked, the words dripping with curiosity and thinly veiled mockery, “how do you find the courage to dress yourself up and attend this academy?”

  A flick of Veronica’s wrist sent Saya sprawling to the floor. She nded hard on her left side, her arm barely cushioning the impact. To contain the sting, Saya grit her teeth and bit the bottom of her lip. Her eyes locked onto the tyrant, a silent gre sharper than any bde.

  Faculty and students alike feared Veronica for her sheer political and economic power, but Saya, with little status to her name, felt no anxiety at all.

  Instead, she carried only disdain, for Veronica, for her incessant need for attention, and for the arrogance that came with her birthright.

  The imperial daughter, of course, would not tolerate the disrespectful judgement of someone inferior either, and the two exchanged silent volleys through narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

  The tension between them thickened with each passing heartbeat, as if the air itself braced for a spark.

  It’s not worth fighting her.

  If she just has her fun and leaves, then that’s all that matters.

  Saya did not fear Veronica, but she feared for those around her. Professor Hector and Albo immediately came to mind, people who would throw themselves into danger without a second thought to protect her; but doing so could ruin their careers, or worse, cost them their lives.

  Though a small part of her wished for a savior to appear, she knew she had no choice but to endure. She braced herself, accepting the abuse with quiet resolve.

  Using the wall for support, Saya slowly pushed herself upright, gathering her strength. She was just regaining her bance when one of Veronica’s taunting friends lifted her leg, driving the sole of her shoe against Saya’s chest.

  The sudden pressure stole her breath for a moment, and a sharp sting radiated through her ribs.

  Unable to bance herself, Saya was forced to hit the floor again. Lunchtime was nearly halfway over, and if her torment didn’t end soon, half the school would likely witness the commotion.

  “Let’s go for a walk, mudbiter,” Veronica hissed, gripping Saya’s ear once more.

  A groan escaped her as her oppressor’s hands dragged her across the hall. The unused cssroom before them that was closed down for renovations, served as a perfect stage for Veronica to deliver the lesson she had been dying to impart.

  The rustle of their expensive dresses drowned out Saya’s thoughts, and she briefly fantasized about her freedom and sharing lunch with her friends.

  Once inside, the door smmed shut behind them, and Veronica tossed her to the ground.

  While the other two girls grinned maliciously, Veronica simply stood above Saya, her breathing heavy with barely restrained rage.

  Though the three wore simir clothing and accessories from the surface, there was one aspect that stood Veronica apart. It wasn’t the jewelry or the vish fabrics that distinguished an imperial from a petty noble, but her aura.

  This was an aura beyond measurement, unreted to Birthmarks or accessories. It y in her bearing, the precision of her movements, and the careful curation of every expression, each one perfectly chosen for the moment.

  The word ‘waste’ did not exist in her vocabury, and neither did ‘imperfection’.

  Saya’s right knee was splintered from the fall, torn skin oozing blood in small, steady trickles.

  “How repulsive,” Veronica remarked, tilting her head cruelly as she idly flicked her long, curly, red-blond hair. “You bleed red, just like the rest of us, and yet you make no effort to blend in.”

  Veronica stomped forward and smmed Saya onto the floor. The air whooshed from her lungs as she hit hard, limbs spying, a muffled yelp escaping her lips.

  “You bleed the same color, breathe the same air, yet were born without a Birthmark. An anomaly.”

  “Yet despite that, you cower and whimper at the truth instead of using your deficiency to rise above others.”

  “And how is that my fault? What are you talking about, standing above others?” Saya shot back, fierce fire in her voice. “What’s so ‘great’ about being born defective? Expin it to me!”

  “How is that your fault? Are you so dull that you can’t even understand the same nguage as I do?” Veronica raised her foot again to strike, stopping herself at the st second.

  Not wanting to interrupt the ‘fun,’ one of Veronica’s friends spoke up, “Well, it might actually not be your fault! I suppose your filthy parents are to bme for not raising you properly.”

  Though Saya expected a follow-up from Veronica, she simply looked down at her with pure disgust.

  As her breathing grew heavier and anger began to swell within her, Saya’s head jolted violently, a surge of pain like electrical currents shot toward her left eye. She recoiled instinctively, pressing both hands over it in a futile attempt to soothe the burning ache.

  Why? Why is it happening now?

  Then, she saw a figure levitating at the far end of the room. She couldn’t see its face, its body was cd in shadow. Deep down in her soul, a part of Saya recognized the being watching over her. She couldn’t point out exactly what it was, yet, it carried a sense of familiarity.

  “I haven’t hit your eye, mudbiter, what game are you pying here?” Veronica asked, but her question fell on deaf ears, as Saya y on her side groaning in pain. Her breath grew even more jagged, her legs trembling uncontrolbly.

  “She’s probably faking it, Veronica,” one of the girls stated, stepping closer to the pained Saya. Each click of their high heels rang sharply against the wooden floor, the sound cutting through the tense silence like nails on a chalkboard.

  The polished wood creaked under her weight, sending faint vibrations up Saya’s body with every deliberate step, emphasizing her helplessness.

  Just as she was about to receive another kick from one of the imperial ckeys, the room grew warmer, the air thickening with heat. Saya recognized this sensation all too well, and Veronica did as well.

  Though seen as the jester of the academy, Albo was no pushover when it came to standing up against Veronica’s tyrannical tendencies.

  The door was kicked down in a fsh, and a fireball hurled toward the girl looming over Saya. The impact was instantaneous, bsting the girl into the wall and rendering her unconscious immediately.

  Rushing into the room with his arm raised, Albo unched another fireball at Veronica’s other companion. He knew the imperial daughter herself was nearly impossible to defeat in a single strike, so this was a compromise he was willing to accept.

  To his surprise, Veronica did little to defend her ally. The second girl was struck by the bst, flying back violently and colliding with the stone wall of the cssroom.

  He paused for a brief moment, a smirk creeping across his face, as he felt a flicker of pride at his lightning-fast reactions. True, his opponents weren’t battle-hardened, but downing two magically capable enemies in seconds was enough to put a spark of satisfaction in his chest.

  “I’m not really one to lecture,” a confident, enraged voice confronted the imperial daughter, “but if you’d been wearing your uniforms, it would’ve absorbed the bst a bit better.”

  “School uniform?” Veronica growled, eyes narrowing. “Uniformity implies equality, and unfortunately for you and everyone else in this academy, nobody is my equal.”

  The Birthmark on Albo’s neck began to emit a faint turquoise glow, a silent warning to Veronica of his incoming spell.

  “Funny thing to say,” Albo remarked with a gre, “what about your friends?”

  Not for a single moment did Veronica show concern for her fallen allies, as indulging in such mundane worries was, to her, beneath consideration.

  “They dress like I do, talk like I do. But because they are beneath me, they imitate me. If they were truly unique, they would command authority even without my presence.” Her voice remained perfectly even, as though reciting an undeniable truth.

  Without further warning, Albo unleashed a fireball. Fmes hissed through the air, racing toward the heavily clothed Veronica.

  But the imperial daughter was no one to take a strike without retaliation.

  In response, her Birthmark fred brilliantly from her neck, glowing a vivid blue, and a wall of ice surged between them, halting the attack.

  “Quite confident for a peasant, don’t you think?” Veronica smirked.

  With a single kick, she shattered the ice wall, then commanded the jagged shards as projectiles against her opponent. If Albo valued power, then she would respond with speed to counter him as much as possible.

  As much as she hated to admit, Veronica found her situation quite amusing.

  Reacting immediately, Albo thrusted his palms behind him to conjure wind magic and propel himself upward. Using wind offensively against Veronica might direct the ice shards toward Saya, which was a gamble he refused to take.

  From the air, his eyes and mind spiralled frantically for a way to separate Veronica from Saya. His reactions were quick when it came to combat, but when it came to strategizing mid-battle, it was by far his weakest point.

  But the jester had made a crucial mistake, as floating in the air left him defenseless. Five lethal shards hovered around the vicious noble, each glinting with deadly intent.

  With her pain easing slightly, Saya summoned every ounce of willpower she had. She dug her nails into her palms and bit her tongue hard, careful not to cause serious damage, forcing her body to awaken.

  Surging with adrenaline, she sprang up, stepped back, twisted, and delivered a sharp kick toward the distracted bully, aiming to incapacitate her before she could harm Albo. Veronica caught the movement in her peripheral vision, blocking the strike with a single hand.

  The unexpected contact disrupted Veronica’s focus, drawing her gaze downward to the girl clinging to her leg. She furrowed her brows and growled through clenched teeth, “You’re not the only one who paid attention in combat css.”

  Seizing the opening, Albo thrust his right hand forward, unleashing the same wind magic he had cast earlier, but this time with the intent of hurling Veronica across the room.

  Veronica tightened her grip on Saya’s ankle and, with a sharp motion, tossed her to the ground.

  Albo’s wind spell hit its mark. With no ground resistance to anchor her, Veronica was sent flying, crashing into the chalkboard across the room. The impact rattled the walls and floors, shaking the chamber in response to the sheer force.

  “The efforts you men go to save a girl in distress, quite the hero, aren’t you?” Veronica remarked, her breath uneven. But unlike before, she wasn’t wearing a furious scowl, instead smiling and chuckling ever so slightly.

  Their eyes locked onto each other unflinching. Birthmarks pulsed together, spilling a quiet radiance that thickened the air between them.

  “She could have been a boy,” Albo procimed, “or perhaps an animal, or maybe even a bug. But it doesn’t matter, because a real man stands in between the victim and the abuser, regardless of their appearances.”

  “Abuse?” Veronica paused. “Well, I suppose to the under-fed this would seem like abuse.”

  The imperial maiden’s Birthmark dimmed, yielding to a different light rising from within her body.

  “Very well,” Veronica smiled. “Your resolve is commendable, thus, I’ll show you the same respect.”

  Her magical gears ignited in a deep shade of purple, and her vicious aura gave way to one of absolute pride. Albo felt goosebumps trickle on his body as a chill crawled up his spine; what she was casting was different from before.

  Unlike a regur spell, which would be indicated by the fre of a Birthmark, her entire body started to emit a color that he was not familiar with.

  “Soul—”

  The light of Albo’s Birthmark fred violently. He tensed, and his muscles coiled, ready for whatever Veronica would throw at him next. If he could not carefully predict the next attack, then he would have to block it in some way, some form.

  The magical energy in the room grew denser, but before either of them could make another move, a sea of professors rushed inside.

  Professor Hector was among the first. He ran across the room, checking on Saya’s condition immediately. Meanwhile, the other professors demanded the dueling students stand down.

  Albo reluctantly lowered his arm, Veronica quickly following after him.

  “What a mundane conclusion,” Veronica remarked, turning and walking calmly out of the cssroom.

  “We expect you to report to the Headmaster’s office immediately.” one professor called bravely, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and authority.

  Veronica’s gaze swept over him, sharp and piercing, as if it could drain the life from a man. “talk to me like that again, and I’ll make sure the Headmaster sends you to some drainhole city far from here.”

  Her high-heeled footsteps faded as she moved farther away. Nobody dared intervene, and considering she hadn’t destroyed the cssroom or harmed the professors, it was a miracle in itself.

  Out of breath, Albo rushed to Saya’s side and wrapped an arm around her as she stumbled, her bance still unsteady. Though her knee had only scraped against the floor, the impact throbbed like she had smmed it straight into the edge of a metal table.

  It wasn’t a serious injury, but most of her focus was consumed by the dull, aching pulse that seemed to echo through her skull.

  As Albo slowly guided her toward the exit, Saya let out a faint whisper, sweat dripping down her temples.

  “You’re drenched, are you okay?”

  A weak chuckle escaped her lips. “Yeah… I just have a really bad headache.”

  Though she wasn’t lying, it wasn’t quite fully honest either. She still felt the phantom pain of the electric surge rushing to her eye. It was almost as if a thousand syringes were poked into her relentlessly and without mercy.

  Halfway through her episode, she wouldn’t have been surprised if there had been a pool of blood beneath her. Even after it subsided, her body hadn’t fully returned to normal.

  Pulled along by Albo toward the infirmary, Saya’s teeth gritted against the pain and her own body. Almost wishing Veronica had just knocked her out, she cursed her condition under her breath.

  When they reached the infirmary, Albo called out for help, but no one answered. There were no sick students inside, and no nurse on duty.

  “I wonder if they went out for lunch or something,” he commented, rummaging through the medical cabinets.

  “Stop, I don’t think you should be touching that,” Saya weakly stated as she panted for air. Her body grew hotter by the second, with no sign of cooling down. She shrugged off her robe and unbuttoned her uniform, hoping for even the slightest relief, but she was left craving.

  Heat radiated from her skin, spreading into every aching muscle. She colpsed onto a bed, forearm pressed to her forehead.

  Vision blurred white, and the sounds around her dulled, as if she were sinking underwater.

  The harder she gasped for air, the worse her migraine throbbed. Desperate for even a sliver of relief, she squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her jaw and forcing her thoughts bnk.

  “Here, take this cold medicine.” Albo propped her up while handing her a small gss cup filled with a strangely pink drink.

  “I don’t know… if you should be giving me medicine.”

  “Just drink it.”

  She forced the cup to her lips, choking down the bitter, icy liquid. The faint grape fvor did little to mask the harsh chemical sting, or perhaps it was the fvor itself that produced such a revolting taste.

  As her head grew heavier, she y back down, attempting to clear her thoughts and slip into rest. From somewhere beyond her haze, she could hear the nurse returning to the office while Albo expined the situation.

  It’s just a cold.

  Leave me alone.

  A hand brushed against hers, his chilly touch strongly countering against her burning skin. Even though she knew who it belonged to, she couldn’t muster the strength to open her eyes and face him.

  I need to thank him.

  She gathered her breath as she tilted her head toward where she assumed Albo was seated. Even the strength to open her eyes felt like a distant dream, but she still had to thank him.

  “Albo,” she whispered as she let out a bored exhale.

  “What’s up? Are you feeling any better?”

  Her tongue was dry, and so was her throat. Each word felt like torture, and she debated whether it was even worth talking to him at that moment.

  But for some reason, she felt a tug in her heart, begging her to say the fateful words to him. She cracked one eye open slightly. Most of her vision remained obscured by her eyelid, but she could just barely make out his face.

  His face?

  No, she wasn’t looking at his face.

  His neck.

  Her throat felt parched, a dry and jagged sensation that made it seem as if she hadn’t had anything to drink in days.

  Every breath she took felt like sandpaper rubbing against her windpipe, and her mind began to leave a sensation of lingering static, slipping toward a quiet insanity driven by the irresistible urge to moisturize her throat.

  The world around her blurred, leaving only one sharp focus. Despite her acknowledgement of Albo’s presence, she couldn’t help but see him as a prime target to satisfy her newfound craving.

  Stop.

  What AM I?...

  It wasn’t his neck that held her gaze, but the mark carved into it. Beautiful. A sigil that transformed magic itself into elemental spells.

  I wonder about its texture. I wonder if it tastes good. Stop. Stop. Stop.

  Why?

  Because it’s wrong. I won’t do that to him.

  “Saya?” Albo worriedly called out to her, but his voice fell under deaf ears. The room had vanished, repced by a rhythmic, suffocating throbbing sound of her own heartbeat.

  She averted her eyes completely, refusing to indulge even a single one of the thoughts her mind was suggesting. Just as she felt her mind and soul shatter into a million pieces, silence quickly rammed through her sense of being.

  …

  …

  …

  A cold breeze brushed across her cheeks, and the soreness in her throat vanished completely. Saya’s vision slowly returned, but instead of the dull white room her mind st remembered, she found herself somewhere familiar.

  Her breath was steady, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm, her skin faintly glimmering under the moonlight. She let her eyes wander around the room and realized she was back in her dorm.

  “A dream?” she murmured to herself as she propped herself up. Her roommates were asleep in their respective beds.

  Her skin felt cool and normal, and she had never felt so refreshed in her life. Everything was still a blur, and she couldn’t tell whether what she had experienced had truly happened or if it had all just been a dream.

  The soreness in her chest said otherwise. Its soreness was felt at the exact spot where Veronica had kicked her. With that alone, it wasn’t hard to piece that she had passed out in the infirmary and been brought back to her room afterward.

  It was halfway through lunch when I got into a fight with Veronica.

  Well, I guess it wasn’t really a fight.

  She turned her head toward the hanging clock, as it was barely past 12:49 in the morning.

  Disappointment settled in her chest as she realized she had missed an entire day of not just csses, but her free time too. Her cheeks puffed slightly as she let out a long sigh.

  “Man, I missed lunch with Albo.”