<Chapter 18>

“Reeeeen—!”

“Euuup!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll apologize on his behalf, Lord Pygone!”

“Eup, hey! Let go, uuup!”

Zian, racing over like a flash from afar, clamped down on Ren’s mouth. For someone who fled claiming to be a frail 2nd-circle mage, his strength was nearly superhuman.

Laren struggled, but he couldn’t shake off Zian’s grip at all. As Laren thrashed his head with eyes rolled back, Zian clamped down once more.

“Let go, I said!”

Grabbing Ren’s jacket amid the chaos, Zian bolted from the student cafeteria like an arrow. Even after distancing themselves, Laren, still being dragged, felt his stamina waning and finally shook off Zian’s hand. His legs gave out, and he collapsed on the spot.

‘Is this guy Zian really a mage?’

While he panted, Zian merely caught his breath, looking utterly composed. Clutching his pounding heart, Laren shouted outright.

“What the hell was that!”

“You were about to use magic, weren’t you?”

Hit right on the mark, Laren averted his gaze. Zian, now squatting beside him, narrowed his eyes and scolded.

“Even for high nobles it’s iffy, but for people like us of low status, injuring a noble with magic won’t end with just expulsion!”

“I was prepared… for that much.”

What kind of preparation leads to blasting magic at a count’s heir? Zian, at a loss for words, sighed.

Laren had no choice; the moment he saw the fallen meat, rationality fled. Seeing Zian pouting as if done talking, a deflating chuckle escaped Laren.

“You said no loyalty—why not stick to it till the end?”

At the blunt remark, Zian smacked his shoulder with a thwack. Grimacing at the sharp pain, Laren massaged it. No matter how he thought about it, this wasn’t a 2nd-circle mage; he should’ve gone to swordsmanship, not magic.

“Hey! I still—!”

Zian’s scolding face flushed slightly. He hesitated, fumbling awkwardly.

“I still!”

“You still?”

“I want to attend the academy with youuu…”

Zian’s voice trailed off, growing fainter like a whisper. His drooping eyes resembled a rain-soaked puppy, and Laren burst into laughter. At the giggling sight, Zian shouted indignantly.

“Hey, is now the time to laugh?!”

“Why, can’t I laugh when I want?”

Laren placed a hand on the gray hair and stroked it. Though grumbling, Zian didn’t pull away or anything. It was deeply regrettable not landing a blow on Pygone, but without the intervention, expulsion would’ve been inevitable.

‘Well, it’s fine. There’ll be plenty of chances to strike later. Maybe lure him to a secluded spot.’

Laren’s regretful lip-smacking was utterly sincere.

“Thanks, Zian.”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t that response too quick?”

“Of course you should be thankful! But you speak better than I thought— I figured you’d just explode in anger.”

“Huh? Well…”

Well, growing up under Head Maid Cecire’s nagging and the duchess’s occasional stern scoldings. Of course, he couldn’t say the rest.

“Anyway, impressive! Standing your ground in front of so many without flinching.”

As the non-compliments continued, Laren scratched his temple, his expression hardening instantly. Zian’s earlier words implied he’d been spectating the cafeteria scene from afar.

“Wait, were you watching from a distance?”

“Well, I was curious. Ren, your face is too scary.”

At the brazenly bold claim, Laren revised his plan to punish Pygone. First things first: deal with the one right here.

Crack, crack. As Ren loosened his knuckles, Zian felt an inexplicable chill. Soon after, Zian’s anguished scream echoed across a corner of the campus lawn.

‘Hah… What a hassle, really.’

The all-day lectures and the cafeteria incident had deepened Laren’s dark circles. Dragging his weary body back, the dormitory remained empty as ever.

Maybe he’s invisible. Or does he even exist to begin with? Tomorrow, I’ll hit the library and sift through books. A historic academy library might hold useful info—drifting with the stream of consciousness, Laren soon slipped into sleep.

“…”

Sunlight piercing through the window glass stung his face. Didn’t they say fatigue makes you swell more? The puffy face and sticky eyelids made rising a struggle.

After rubbing his eyes several times, Laren doubted them at the shape on the opposite bed. Even after blurred vision cleared, the form remained.

“Huh…?!”

Blankly staring across, Laren bolted upright. No matter how many rubs, the illusion didn’t fade.

A boy with long lashes draped down slept on the bed. Disheveled black hair slightly veiled the boy’s eyes.

“Ka, Ka, Kar?!”

Gasping as he rose, Laren’s face mixed doubt and astonishment. At the sudden noise, the sleeping boy’s brow furrowed slightly. Leaping from bed, Laren immediately scooped up the boy across from him.

“Kaaar—!”

The small frame fit perfectly in his arms. Hugging the drowsy boy, Laren double-checked the face incredulously. The boy’s met face crumpled sharply.

‘Who cares, I’m so happy!’

As he moved to hug again, the boy pushed Laren’s forehead with his index finger. Even as his head tilted back, Laren smiled brightly.

“What— what’s going on? You’re an academy student?”

Suddenly, a question arose: could such a young child even enroll? Kar, not fully awake, showed signs of burrowing back under the covers to escape the annoying presence.

But there was no way he’d allow that. As Laren anxiously shook him back and forth, Kar reluctantly opened his tightly shut eyes.

“Wait, wait! Explain a bit! Are you really my roommate, Kar?”

“Let go.”

“It really is Kar!”

Seeing him respond with just one word confirmed it was indeed Kar. Laren, his eyes brimming with excitement, clamped his mouth shut. Encountering someone familiar in this strange place—especially a boy with whom he’d shared a regrettable parting—was an incredible stroke of luck that filled him with joy.

Laren propped his chin on his hand, gazing down intently at Kar as he tried to sleep. The fair skin, plump cheeks, round nose, and fine black hair—reunited with Kar, he was as cute as ever, and even cuter.

Gurgle—a stomach rumble announced morning. The nearby sound seemed quite irritating, as Kar’s slightly open eyes sharpened.

“Pig.”

“Why do you always say that specifically? You’d better not use it if you don’t want your cheeks pinched again.”

A wrinkle of anger formed on Laren’s forehead as he smiled brightly. However, Kar’s just-woken, tousled appearance exuded even more cuteness, so the anger quickly subsided.

“Uh, the roommate is supposed to be a commoner from swordsmanship—were you a commoner, Kar? But do they let kids enroll? Oh, maybe there’s no age limit. Why haven’t you been coming to the dormitory until now? And how did you end up caught by the slave caravan?”

The barrage of questions furrowed Kar’s brow even more. Of course, no answers came regarding the queries.

Well, whatever—getting a proper response from Kar had been something Laren gave up on long ago in the slave caravan. Though suspicions abounded, Laren himself was no less suspicious.

“Then answer at least one: it’s true you’re my roommate, right?”

‘Please, please, please!’

Laren’s eyes gleamed with desperation as he grasped Kar’s hand. After glaring sharply at the one disturbing his sleep again, Kar nodded. At that, Laren abruptly clapped his hands and nodded vigorously in return.

‘Nice!’

Luck was finally visiting him in this academy. It seemed the otherwise useless Holy Qualitas was finally proving its worth.

Laren’s spirits soared at the thought of academy life with Kar. As he bounced excitedly, another stomach growl prompted him to rise from his seat.

‘Still, gotta eat breakfast.’

With bustling movements, Laren finished preparing and approached Kar’s side again. Kar blinked sleepily, clad haphazardly in a satin shirt. Under the sunlight, his indigo eyes gleamed with an extraordinarily eerie light.

“Kar, time for breakfast. We’ll miss it if we’re late.”

“Don’t touch.”

Pushed away the hand shaking him, Kar rolled over to the opposite side. He seemed intent on sleeping.

“Yeah, sure.”

If he thought that would work, he was mistaken. The sudden yank of the bedding widened those indigo eyes. And that wasn’t all—Laren scooped Kar up in one swift motion and headed for the dormitory door.

“Skipping meals stunts your growth.”

Laren offered the advice like a grown man as he exited the dormitory, still holding Kar. Truth be told, his own height was on the shorter side for boys his age, so it wasn’t the most credible counsel.

Kar, robbed of his morning sleep, barely suppressed the urge to kick the boy carrying him. A kick from him would leave the mage boy with more than just bruises.

Calming his boiling rage, Kar gave up escaping and simply closed his eyes. Satisfied that the struggling child had quieted, Laren patted his back.

“We’ll talk properly after breakfast.”

‘I have nothing to say to you.’

Swallowing the words rising to his throat, Kar merely furrowed his brow. Speaking unnecessarily might make the boy even more annoying.

As Laren carried Kar across the campus, a bizarre phenomenon unfolded. Students gaped open-mouthed—that was mild; some dropped books from their hands out of nowhere, or walked straight into trees without seeing them.

“Why are they staring like that?”

Puzzled, Laren glanced around before quickening his pace, abandoning speculation. Today was the day for his favorite sandwich, after all. Kar remained docile in his arms, perhaps finding the hold comfortable.

“…”

As the two entered, a profound silence blanketed the student cafeteria. Why so quiet today of all days? Perplexed by the odd atmosphere, Laren craned his neck before carefully setting Kar down.

“Kar, you’ll have a sandwich too, right?”

Kar, who had been led along compliantly, shook his head. How could he not eat a sandwich? Frowning down disapprovingly, Laren pointed to himself.

“Then can I eat yours instead?”

“…”

“You don’t eat breakfast usually? You’re not supposed to skip—don’t like soup? Then at least have some milk tea.”

With no sign of respecting his opinion, Kar let out a low sigh. The boy truly treated him like a child, which was exasperating beyond measure.

Grasping Kar’s hand, Laren claimed a relatively secluded table. For some reason, every eye in the cafeteria was on them. Eating at the center of that would lead to indigestion from breakfast onward.

“Why are they staring so much? Because we’re both commoners? Ah, Kar, the milk tea’s hot, so be careful.”

Even amid the indifferent grumbling, he didn’t forget to attentively care for Kar. Eating breakfast face-to-face with that cute visage promised a happy day. As Laren stroked the hair of the one seated beside him, Kar’s expression crumpled sharply.

“Cut me some slack—it’s been a while. And you left without a proper goodbye back then.”

Biting into the sandwich, Laren shot him a sidelong glance. Such a regrettable parting from a fellow combatant lingered as a sore spot. But he was cute, so forgiven. A faint sigh escaped Kar, reading the intent.

“Oh, Zian! Over here!”

Spotting the familiar gray hair, Laren waved. Zian turned with a bright smile, only for his face to flood with shock.