The air inside Classroom Twelve felt thick with the aftertaste of mana theories and formulas, as if even the walls had soaked in Eleanor's strict lecture. The elegant professor with the emerald eyes and clipped words had just finished a two-hour deep dive into Advanced Mana Flow Theory, and the students, though quiet, exhaled in the unified relief of survivors.
Eleanor tapped her tablet shut with a muted *click*, her tone as unchanging as stone.
"That concludes today's material. We will revisit the principles of synchronized flow in tomorrow's session. Prepare accordingly."
She gathered her things with the same calm finality she brought to everything—unbothered, methodical, perfectly in control.
Around the room, the rustle of papers, the scraping of chairs, and the quiet sound of zippers signaled the beginning of lunch break.
Rina moved slowly, her golden eyes briefly glancing toward the window. She could still hear Eleanor's voice echoing in her skull like an afterimage, but her thoughts weren't on the theory anymore. They were on him. *He said he'd come... So where is he?*
She didn't tell anyone. Not even Leona. Not yet.
Ethan packed his things beside Knox, the two sharing a few words under their breath. Lilia bounced slightly in her seat, chatting about something light-hearted with Leona. The class had settled into a soft hum of chatter and motion—
Until the door creaked open again.
This time, no sharp heels. No tablet. No voice of cool reason.
It was the sound of age, of authority, of command—slow, deliberate steps accompanied by the faint *tap-tap* of a cane.
And then the figure entered.
Arthur Miles.
The Headmaster of the Academy.
His presence silenced the room faster than Eleanor ever could. Even she froze mid-step, glancing over her shoulder at the man whose very breath seemed to carry the weight of decades.
He walked in with dignity etched into his bones. Gray hair combed back with impeccable care, storm-colored eyes that had witnessed wars and negotiations alike, and an official white uniform tailored to perfection. Draped over one shoulder was a crimson cloak—rich, commanding—and in his hand, a gold-headed cane that clicked softly against the marble as he walked.
He stopped in the center of the room.
"Forgive the interruption, Professor Eleanor," he said, his voice calm and resonant, cutting through the air like a blade of silk. "There is an announcement I must make."
Eleanor bowed her head slightly. "Of course, Headmaster."
All eyes were on him.
Some students straightened their backs. Others held their breath.
"I hope you've all used your break to improve yourselves," he began, looking around with that ageless gaze. "Today, I come not to scold or lecture, but to introduce."
A ripple of curiosity spread through the class.
Leona tilted her head slightly. "Introduce?"
Knox muttered under his breath, "New student?"
Even Rina's spine stiffened. Her hands froze atop her bag.
And then the Headmaster nodded toward the door.
"You may enter."
The room held its breath.
The door opened.
And *he* stepped in.
First came the boots—black, polished leather that gleamed under the classroom's lights. Then the hem of a long, black coat that reached his ankles, swaying with every powerful, unhurried step. His trousers and shirt matched—entirely black, perfectly tailored—and his hands were gloved, fingers exposed through fingerless cuts, revealing pale skin smooth as porcelain.
And then his face came into view.
Hair like liquid night fell in feathered strands over a smooth, faultless forehead. His skin was milk-white, unmarred by blemish or time, with high cheekbones carved by gods and lips that held the faintest, amused curl.
But his eyes.
Crimson.
Not the dull red of blood dried in the sun, but the vibrant, glowing red of a ruby held to flame—sharp, glinting, alive.
They sparkled with mischief.
And behind all of it—his looks, his clothes, his grace—was an aura.
Sharp.
Heavy.
Alive.
A wave of mana pressure swept across the room, invisible but undeniable. It coiled around the students like smoke and steel, threading through their lungs and bones. Even Eleanor blinked, adjusting to the sudden shift in presence.
He didn't bow.
He didn't smile wider.
He simply stopped at the front of the class, looked around, and said in a smooth, stable voice:
"Hello. My name is Jin Rotschy. A pleasure to meet you."
A pause.
A beat of silence.
And then the room exploded.
Not in sound—no one dared speak yet—but in *reaction*.
Chairs creaked. Necks craned. Eyes widened.
"Is that... *him?*" whispered one student.
"He's... way too good-looking," another muttered, half-breathless.
"I thought he'd be terrifying. Why is he kind of—*gorgeous?*" a girl near the back whispered, her voice squeaky.
Ethan leaned toward Knox, whispering, "So that's *the* Jin? He looks like he stepped out of a magazine."
Knox exhaled slowly. "He's more like something out of a dream... or a nightmare. Depends on the angle."
Lilia blinked rapidly, cheeks tinged pink. "He's glowing. Actually glowing. Is that the Rotschy bloodline or just illegal skincare?"
Leona was stunned.
Frozen.
She hadn't known.
Not a word. Not a hint from Rina.
And yet now, there he was. Standing there. And when she turned her head toward her best friend...
Rina was smiling.
Softly.
Subtly.
And her cheeks—usually pale and composed—were *just a little pink.*
*She knew.* Of course she knew.
Arthur Miles, the Headmaster, gave a small nod and turned to leave, the crimson cloak fluttering slightly behind him. The cane tapped once more against the floor—and then he was gone, leaving behind a silence only broken by the rustle of coats and suppressed breaths.
Jin turned toward Eleanor, who had watched him with narrowed eyes the entire time.
"You're the instructor of this class, correct?" he asked politely.
"Yes."
He extended his hand to shake hers. "A pleasure."
Eleanor took it, her face unreadable. "Likewise."
His smile twitched, just a little. Amused. Almost... mocking.
He released her hand.
"I hope the class isn't too dull."
A few girls giggled, unable to help themselves. Others whispered behind hands.
Eleanor, unfazed, simply turned to leave. "Try to keep up, Mister Rotschy. We don't slow down for newcomers."
And with that, she exited the room.
Leaving Jin standing alone at the front, his crimson eyes scanning the room with the ease of a predator already familiar with its territory.
His gaze swept past Ethan, Knox, Lilia, and finally landed—unapologetically—on Rina.
And Rina?
Still smiling.
Still glowing.
Still burning silently inside.
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Heat: And now finally Jin is in the academy outside the world.