<Chapter 21>

Kar shook his head, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. He even eyed the chocolate with more outright disdain than usual.

“Pig.”

“I told you to cut that word out.”

The insolent label grated on Laren, twisting his features into a scowl. Kar had been tossing it around ever since the slave traders—like it was his favorite little barb.

“You didn’t come back last night either. Where the hell do you even go? At this rate, it feels like I’m the only one living here.”

Kar stared at the chocolate in Laren’s hand for a beat before turning away with a sigh. Laren harbored no illusions of a real answer.

At least there’d been progress lately. In the beginning, Kar had been zipped up tighter than a sealed letter, refusing to utter a word—so Laren had threatened a kiss, and now, whether out of sheer annoyance or laziness, he’d toss back the occasional reply.

Watching Kar unpack his things, Laren suddenly remembered the sparring period looming ahead. *He’s an academy student too, after all!*

“Kar!”

He called out, voice bright with sudden realization, and Kar’s eyes flickered with unease. *What lame scheme is this now?* his face might as well have screamed. The icy rebuff stung a little, and Laren played it up, feigning deeper hurt. Kar’s brows knitted in response, and Laren cleared his throat to smooth things over, careful not to push too far.

“Ahem. So, what’s your Qualitas?”

He still had no clue about Kar’s own Qualitas. He knew the kid handled a sword with effortless grace, but beyond that? Next to nothing about him personally. Asking got him nothing but silence every time.

“Physical.”

“Physical Qualitas? That’s a mutation type, right? Wild—do you turn into animals or something?”

Kar shut his eyes, evidently deciding it wasn’t worth dignifying with a response. Laren had asked in all seriousness, only to get treated like he’d spouted nonsense—his face fell into gloom.

Propping himself up from the bed, Laren edged closer to where Kar had gone still. With his eyes closed, Kar looked nothing like his usual listless self. Gentle, maybe? Docile. Long lashes fanned out beneath his lids.

Taking in those refined features up close, Laren could almost see why the other students pegged him for nobility. He leaned in a fraction more, and Kar cracked his eyes open just a sliver, gazing up at him.

“Th… let… go…”

He could’ve just opened his eyes fully, but instead, he reached up and seized Laren’s face. Tiny hands clamped onto both cheeks, squishing them so hard that Laren’s words mangled into a garble. Kar shot him an irritated glance, then released his grip and sealed his eyes shut again.

“Hey, Kar.”

One call wasn’t enough. Kar, Kar, Kar—he chanted the name like a mantra, persistent and deliberate, until Kar’s brows furrowed deep. Laren’s lips twitched in a smirk; his intent was crystal clear.

“Y’know, this sparring period pair thing…”

“No.”

Kar cut him off before he could even finish, lobbing a rejection cold as winter. Laren had braced for it, but the blunt fastball still dropped his brows low. Cute as that face was, the words spilling from it cut like frost—brutal, unrelenting.

“Why not? We synced pretty well back at the slave traders!”

“Hassle.”

“C’mon, let’s team up? Just you and me—we’d sweep the whole thing. Your insane sword skills, my killer magic!”

Laren latched onto Kar’s hand and shook it for emphasis. The proximity clearly grated; Kar swatted it away with a sharp crack. The hand lingered in the air, stinging with rejection, but Laren’s gaze softened at once, melting into the adorable pout before him. Kar’s eyes squeezed tighter in a scowl, dragging those plump cheeks into the same unhappy crease.

“Kar, not answering again.”

“…”

“I said ignoring me means a kiss, didn’t I? Or did I not?”

Kar resolved then and there to blank the irritating presence entirely. It worked—Laren’s lower lip jutted out in a full sulk.

“A kiss? For real? You’re seriously not gonna pair with me?”

“…”

“God.”

Gazing down at the unresponsive child’s face, Laren leaned in and pressed his lips to one cheek with a soft *smack*. Kar’s eyes flew wide—he clearly hadn’t seen it coming—and his brows twisted in utter dismay.

But Laren just met his stare with breezy calm. A peck on the cheek? No big deal. He’d planted plenty on Kana as a kid. Sure, they’d always ended with him tumbling into the bushes after a swift kick….

“Waaah!”

*Thud.* With zero warning, Kar shoved him, and Laren went rolling across the dorm floor in a tumble of limbs. It summoned the ache of some long-ago childhood bruise.

*What the hell kind of kid strength is this?*

Laren rubbed his throbbing shoulder, eyes widening in shock. It had felt like a casual push, yet he’d been flung like yesterday’s trash. Still sprawled on the floor in a daze, he looked up to find Kar bolting upright.

“Wait!”

Ignoring Laren’s plaintive call entirely, Kar shut the door and slipped out of the dorm. Was a kiss *that* bad? Laren’s hand, outstretched toward the door, wavered faintly in the air.

He rubbed his shoulder, where a dull ache lingered, and a smile tugged at his lips despite himself. Just a light shove, and yet the force behind it had been staggering.

*Looks like pairing with Kar’s my only shot.*

With skills like his, victory was all but guaranteed—unless some powerhouse duo crashed the field. Ensis’s face flickered through his mind, but Laren shook it off. Sticking too close to *him*? He’d be sniffed out in under a day.

To win, he’d *have* to rope Kar in. The image of his empty wallet bobbed lazily through Laren’s thoughts.

* * *

The young lady seated across from her had eyes brimming with tears. One of them dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief, the skin around her eyes flushed red.

“I’m so relieved you’ve regained your strength.”

“When we heard about Lady Helian’s disappearance right after tea time… my heart was in knots….”

This was Herr Helian’s first social gathering since escaping the slave traders, and her chest swelled with emotion. She’d never dreamed she could reclaim such leisurely days. Her fingers trembled faintly as she set down her teacup.

“We heard there was an intruder—some assailant. How did you manage to get away?”

*’Assailant.’*

The face of that smiling, long-haired beauty who loved pretty boys floated vividly before her. Sure, there’d been that unfortunate episode at the end, but he remained her lifelong savior. The white hair whipping around him in the chaos rose in her mind like a heat haze.

“He wasn’t an assailant.”

Those steadfast blue eyes,

“He was a beautiful soul.”

Herr Helian’s face, curved in a gentle smile, carried an oddly mature air. The table fell into a hush at this unfamiliar woman’s poise, so far removed from the girl’s blush of before.

* * *

The beautiful intruder who’d breached the Teferon slave traders was, at this very moment, in quite the bind.

“I knew it—Lord Ensis has landed in swordsmanship A-Class. Never dreamed the rumored enrollee would be you.”

“And Jian?”

“I’m in magic C-Class. Kinda embarrassing.”

Laren couldn’t fathom how he’d ended up in *this* mess. Gloom settled over him, his expression darkening by the second.

“Eighteen and two circles? That’s fast.”

“You think? Lately, I’ve been doubting myself more and more….”

He shot a sidelong glare at Jian and Ensis, chatting away like old pals right in front of him. A sinking dread told him there was no escaping this; his shoulders slumped.

Lost in schemes to snag Kar as his sparring partner, Laren wandered the courtyard when a yellow figure abruptly blocked his path.

“We meet again.”

The man’s appearance was enough to stun him. Less than a day since he’d sworn to avoid him, and here he was, barging in like this—disastrous. Laren took a hesitant step back, but the other didn’t miss a beat, extending a hand with swift precision.

“Forgive the late introduction. Ensis Tatio.”

“Ahem… Ren.”

Laren pitched his voice as low as it would go and clasped the offered hand. After a brief shake, he tried to pull away, but Ensis tightened his grip just a touch.

A flicker of bewilderment clouded Laren’s blue eyes, and Ensis’s own rounded in surprise. With over ten years studying the man, Laren knew that look for sure: pure amusement.

“Th-thanks for the help the other day.”

“Helping a fellow student in peril is only natural.”

*’Helping others as a matter of course? *You*? That’s some fresh bullshit.’*

Brows furrowing, Laren retreated another step. This stiff, formal banter with Ensis was uncharted territory—goosebumps prickled up his arms. He rubbed them, only to find them crawling with the full force of his unease.

“Ah, natural… yeah… well, then, I’ll just… ”

He twisted to flee, but his feet wouldn’t budge forward. A hand pressed firmly on his shoulder, anchoring him.

“If I may—could I ask a small favor?”

“Eh?”

His flustered retort cracked, and Laren clapped both hands over his mouth with a muffled “Heep!” Golden eyes sparkled in response.

“As a new student, I’m finding the academy’s layout a maze. If you’re not too busy, might you show me around?”

“Me? Oh, uh, guide you around the academy?”

Ensis Tatio, lost? He’d sooner believe an orc had enrolled here.

“I’m new too… so asking another student would be…”

“I get shy around strangers. Please.”

Ensis Tatio, shy? He’d sooner believe that orc had snagged top honors. This had to be a ploy to keep him pinned.

*Has he figured it out?*

Laren went rigid, scanning Ensis like a hawk. If it came to it, he’d deny everything to the bitter end.

*No way—it’s not like I can help it; my gender’s different now.*

“Ah, Ren!”

As if on cue, Jian popped up around the pair, who were locked in their subtle tussle. He bounded over, only to tilt his head at the sight of Ren with this stranger.

Beyond Jian and Kar, Laren knew no one at the academy. (Pignone and his three stooges didn’t count, obviously.)

“Who… oh—Lord Ensis Tatio!”

Jian startled at the unexpected face, then clamped a hand over his mouth, mortified. To fail in proper deference to a high noble, blurting his name so boldly… He paled, but Ensis seemed unbothered.

“S-sorry, Lord Tatio. I was just so shocked….”

“No harm done, Lord Robein.”

*Lord Robein?* Jian’s eyes bulged as his own name tumbled from Ensis’s lips.

“You… know me…?”

“I caught sight of you from afar at the New Year’s ball.”

Ensis turned that signature radiant smile on the fidgeting Jian, eyes crinkling into crescents. Jian stared, dazed, then clasped his hands together in flattered awe.

*’Jian, don’t fall for the smile—please! That’s not him!’*

Laren’s desperate inner plea went unheard, of course. Seemed the fallen noble’s son was deeply touched to be remembered in such detail.

Anyone could spot Ensis Tatio, heir to the Tatio duchy—but fallen houses often went uninvited to balls. Ensis knew *exactly* how to foster goodwill.

“So, how do *you* two know each other…?”

Seizing the gap in their talk, Laren inched away—only for Ensis’s arm to drape lightly over his shoulders.

“Friends.”

“Wh-what?!”

Laren squirmed to shrug off the hold on his shoulder, but it was no use. Ensis’s grip stayed firm, unyielding.

*What the hell is he playing at?*

If the goal was to annoy him, mission accomplished.

“Lord Ren was just showing me around the academy.”

“Huh? Ren? *Ren* knows the academy?”

Jian blinked back and forth between them, utterly baffled. Small wonder. A mere commoner not just buddying up to a ducal heir, but *guiding* him?

And Laren? He barely navigated between the magic building, dorms, and cafeteria without getting lost. Forget tours—he needed all his focus just to stay oriented.

*It’s all an act. You’re killing me here! Aaaah!*

His silent scream, as ever, fell on deaf ears. The pleading looks and vibes Laren shot Jian’s way bounced right off. Jian was already lost in the glow of Ensis’s beaming smile.