<Chapter 19>

*Why is he acting like that?*

Wondering if Pignone or someone like him had shown up, Laren glanced around in confusion—only for Jian to swallow a gulp of empty air and shuffle closer, hesitant as ever. Jian, who had settled in beside him, picked at his baguette without really eating it, his eyes darting sidelong in wary glances. The kid who usually chattered so much that it slowed his bites to a crawl.

“Ah, Jian. My roommate. You know him, right?”

“Y-Yeah? Uh… no, I mean, yes….”

“What are you even saying?”

Utterly baffled by Jian’s incomprehensible behavior, Laren furrowed his brow. Kar shot a quick look at the tense boy, then rose from his chair and shifted his weight to step away.

“You’re done already? Where are you off to?”

“The dorm.”

Kar’s reply came short and clipped as he strode out of the cafeteria in brisk, uneven steps. *Off to bed already?* Laren thought, watching him go. *Even the back of that slightly mussed head of his is kind of cute.*

Laren sank his teeth into his sandwich and gave a small nod. The moment Kar’s figure vanished entirely from sight, Jian’s mouth—which had been clamped shut like a trap—sprang back to life.

“Whew, I could hardly breathe back there.”

Even the hush that had blanketed the area around them erupted into a sudden clamor. Laren blinked, frowning at the odd shift in the air.

“…What the hell is this vibe?”

It felt downright strange. Whenever Kar was around, the normally boisterous Jian would go quiet and focus on his food, and there’d be no undercurrent of murmured gossip either. Far from the usual disdain heaped on the lowborns huddled at tables like this, it was more like people were deliberately steering clear. And it all stemmed purely from Kar’s presence.

*Did he stir up some kind of trouble at the academy?*

Laren’s eyes gleamed as he lifted his sandwich to his mouth. Kar’s swordplay had never struck him as ordinary to begin with—and at his age, to already manifest sword aura?

“Ren, you and Sir Kar go way back or something?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never seen him actually respond to anyone like that.”

“Kar’s not much of a talker, true. Well… we’ve run into each other outside the academy.”

He figured it was best not to bring up the slave traders just yet, so he left it at that. Jian’s lips pursed in a pout at the skimpy explanation, and Laren reached over to ruffle his hair.

“It’s seriously nothing.”

The more he looked into Jian’s eyes, the stronger the urge to wrap the kid up and shield him from the world. The first time Laren had tried patting his head, Jian had recoiled in outright panic, but these days? He barely registered it anymore. Gazing at him like that, Laren suddenly remembered something he’d overlooked.

“Jian, didn’t you say Kar was a commoner too?”

“Huh? Oh… well, yeah, more or less.”

“‘More or less’? So why the different treatment between me and him? Is it ’cause I’m cute?”

“C-Cute?”

Jian jerked his head up, startled out of his skin, but Laren—lost in his own musings—stared right through the ham in his sandwich, unblinking. That atmosphere from moments ago hadn’t been contempt at all.

*Subtly keeping their distance,* he thought. *That fits better.* Whereas with Laren, it wasn’t just sidelong glances of dismissal—the Pignone crew went out of their way to harass him, like he was more trouble than he was worth. *Discrimination in bullying too, huh?*

“Can’t chalk it up to just being cute, though.”

*Of course it’s not just because he’s cute!*

Laren’s blue eyes flashed, and Jian broke into a sheen of cold sweat, dropping his gaze to avoid meeting them. He wavered for a beat, then leaned in a fraction closer to Laren.

“Well…”

“Well?”

“There’s a rumor going around that Sir Kar’s actually the son of the Mercantia Ducal House.”

“What?!”

“Shh! Quiet!”

*The son of the Mercantia Ducal House.* Laren’s outburst made Jian flinch hard, clapping a finger to his lips in a frantic hush.

“It’s not confirmed or anything, so everyone’s keeping it on the down-low.”

“But why would a rumor like that even start?”

Kar, the lost heir of Mercantia? What nonsense. Why? Because *I* was the one who started that very rumor—so much for taking rumors at face value.

He’d fielded plenty before: half-crippled, bedridden with some wasting illness, tangled in a scandal. But this one? Refreshingly outlandish. *It won’t veer into some awkward twist where Kar turns out to be the duchess’s secret bastard, will it?*

“His looks are so refined, and his skills? Unreal. The noble etiquette rolls off him like it’s second nature. And all the stuff he uses is top-shelf—hard to buy a ‘mere commoner’ pulling that off without raising eyebrows.”

“…And?”

“So people are guessing he might be the Mercantia heir, the one who’s never once shown his face. Even the professors seem to suspect it, in that offhand way of theirs.”

Truth be told, Laren had never bought the line about Kar being a commoner from the jump. The kid had layers he kept buried deep—Laren could feel it. Hearing it laid out like this, the theory held water. *Assuming I don’t exist, that is.*

On top of that, Kar didn’t seem all that invested in academy life, yet he never caught any flak for it. You could tell just from how he’d skipped back to the dorms for days on end. Still, the hypothesis had one glaring hole.

“Then what about me? I’m a top-tier pretty boy too—haven’t flashed my magic yet, but it’s solid. Etiquette? Flawless! Money… okay, flat broke at the moment… but come on, isn’t this a bit much?”

“I mean, yeah, but…”

Jian’s mouth worked soundlessly at Laren’s cocksure rundown. Sure, the other stuff was debatable, but the pretty boy part? Undeniable. Laren himself—who had a weakness for handsome faces—had swooned over his reflection often enough.

And hell, this face had even landed him kidnapped by slave traders once. Jian did his best to look anywhere but at those blue eyes, now smoldering with outrage.

‘At least put down my cranberry sandwich before you go making claims like that….’

Jian let out a sigh that made no sense at all. Unfortunately, in a noble society that prized eating as an art form, Laren’s appetites couldn’t even get a foot in the door. Kar’s words echoed in his mind like a lingering taunt. *Pig.*

* * *

Lately, Kar had been utterly drained by a relentless string of duties. Gayle, his closest confidant, was the one who showed him the most consideration—and yet, in the same breath, the least. There had been more times than he could count when Gayle dumped an avalanche of tasks on him without warning, leaving Kar desperate to bolt.

Only after days had passed did Kar finally return to the dorm, and the moment he pushed the door open, he froze mid-motion. There was a faint stir of presence beyond it. Only then did he recall the report: he’d be sharing the dorm with one of the newly enrolled commoners.

With the last empty spot in the D-Class dorms falling to Kar’s room, there’d been no dodging it. Reassigning him elsewhere would only fuel the other students’ suspicions about him even more.

And so, under Gayle’s policy of keeping suspicious figures close, it had all led to this outcome. Just how suspicious *was* the guy, anyway?

*What a hassle.*

Inside the dorm, he could sense the unfamiliar presence of someone tumbling end over end across the bed. The mere hint of those restless sleeping habits suggested a nature far from serene, and Kar’s brows drew together ever so slightly.

Kar despised hassles and noise above all else; his one true pastime was stealing naps in quiet, secluded spots. He lit the lamp to change clothes, then—deciding at least to get a look at his roommate—turned his gaze that way.

Was it fate? Some ill-fated twist? Or perhaps a conspiracy orchestrated by unseen hands? The sight of Laren sleeping away the world, oblivious and at peace, plunged Kar into thought.

* * *

He’d barely scraped by without being late to the lecture hall, but the air inside felt off—different from the usual. Laren didn’t need much time to pinpoint the reason.

It had to be the incident in the student cafeteria the day before, plus sharing breakfast with Kar that morning. Some students still muttered their disdain for commoners under their breath, while others flicked glances his way only to whip their heads around the instant their eyes met.

In a society built on rigid class lines, even this much of a shift felt monumental, and Laren let out a short sigh. The only real worry nagging at him was running into Pignone and his trio of lackeys.

“The history of Qualitas stretches back over five thousand years on this continent.”

The professor, her bobbed hair pinned back behind one ear, leaned against the lectern. Laren couldn’t focus on the lecture at all—his mind kept drifting back to the adorable roommate he’d run into that morning.

Kar’s true identity, something he never could have predicted back at the slave traders’, turned out to be a student here. And the only other commoner besides himself.

*Suspicious? Yeah, no kidding.*

Those serene navy-blue eyes floated into his thoughts. Kar was an enigma everywhere he went—whether at the slave traders’ or here at the academy. He’d seemed like noble stock, only to turn out common; a student at the academy, yet tangled up with slavers. The strangest part of all? Why had Kar, a student at the Reditern Municipal Academy, ended up at that slave outpost in the first place?

*Out for a stroll and got snatched? With *those* skills?*

Lost in his reverie, Laren felt a vague overload buzzing in his skull and shook his head. What did any of it matter, really? Bottom line: rooming with Kar was something to celebrate with both hands raised high.

“Not long ago, the papers ran a story about a cursed one who appeared right here at this academy.”

*A cursed one.* The words hit Laren like a slap, and he snapped his head toward the front, where the professor stood. Their eyes met.

“The creature—a grotesque fusion of monster and man—vanished without a trace. Even within the academy, no one knows where it went. Was that being truly a monster? Or perhaps Qualitas incarnate? Or something tied to the curse itself?”

The lecture hall buzzed as the professor broached a topic everyone tiptoed around even here. Laren went utterly still, hanging on her every word with rapt attention.

“On the continent of Sodir, every human is born with Qualitas. All of you here belong to its many forms—flowers, wind, fire, and more, right? Qualitas is innate, and one can only align with a single aspect.”

Clack, clack. The professor paced the room in unhurried steps, a smile playing on her lips.

“It follows a logic close to nature’s own order, much like how humans arise from the union of man and woman. So, what do you suppose happens when that order is defied?”

She snapped her textbook shut with a sharp crack, her eyes gleaming. Laren, ears pricked, swallowed dryly. The information he’d been so desperately chasing was finally spilling out.

“Acquiring two Qualitas, or discovering a new one—it’s the ultimate taboo. Defy it, and the old tales say you’ll invite a curse. The odds are vanishingly slim, but every era sees one or two such unfortunates. Scholars call it the ‘Demonium Curse.’”

Laren’s heart hammered so fiercely as the explanation unspooled that he fretted it might echo out into the room. One or two per era? Far rarer than he’d ever imagined.

“Legends say the curse takes countless forms. And those who break free from it… oh my, look at the time!”

The professor, swept up in her own words, glanced at her watch and pulled a face. Laren nearly shouted for her to go on. What she’d just said wasn’t in any of the tomes he’d scoured in the grand library.

“Whatever you do, don’t let greed get the better of you. Stay clear of the curse. That’s all for today’s lecture.”

With a bright smile, the professor bustled out of the room. Laren stared after her retreating figure, steadying his pounding heart.

Chasing after her now might look suspicious, so he’d have to seek her out discreetly later.

The thought that he might finally have a lead sent a radiant grin blooming across Laren’s face unbidden. A clue to the curse *and* a chance to see Kar!

In that instant, the girl beside him flinched and turned away, while the boys shot him dark, irritated glares. He had no idea why they kept eyeing him like that every chance they got, but in his buoyant mood, it barely registered as a blip.

* * *

With every step Laren took, Kar’s legs dangled and swung like pendulums. Lately, thanks to overtaxing his Qualitas, Kar had been operating in the form of a young child. It made for some truly outlandish spectacles, watching the boy—who still saw him as nothing more than a kid—parade him around like this. Kar sighed, a wry edge of self-mockery in it.

“Kar, you sure it’s okay chugging milk tea every day like that? What if you end up malnourished or something?”

“…”

“Not answering again, huh? Keep it up, and I’ll really plant one on you.”

*A kiss.* Kar’s face, cradled in Laren’s arms, soured in an instant. After tailing him relentlessly for days on end, Laren had gotten eerily good at reading those expressions. The familiar scowl was a silent signal: *put me down*. He’d been dumped more than a few times already.

“Then knock it off, Ren. You’re putting Sir Kar in a tough spot.”

Jian’s chiding voice drifted up from behind Laren, who strolled along with Kar still clutched to him. At first, the kid had seemed mortified by the whole setup, but now? He was slinging lines like that with shameless ease.

*For god’s sake, at least notice Sir Kar’s killing aura….*