Belle's heels clicked sharply against the floor as she stepped forward, the faintest smile curving her lips, the dangerous kind that promised pain disguised as kindness.

"Well then," she said, voice smooth and deceptively pleasant, "since you were late, Sebastian, I suppose it's only fair I come up with a harsh and creative punishment."

I raised an eyebrow. "Harsh and creative? Sounds like you've been waiting for this moment."

"Maybe I have," she replied, tilting her head slightly. "Someone has to keep your ego in check."

I sighed, pressing a hand to my chest in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll take whatever punishment you throw at me…"I paused just long enough to grin. "...but I'm not cooking breakfast for you anymore."

That stopped her dead.

Belle froze mid-step, like her soul had just left her body. Her smile twitched. "...What?"

I tried to hold in a laugh. "You heard me."

She blinked once. Twice. Then her voice pitched up a notch. "Sebastian, wait...let's not be dramatic, okay?"

Oh, I knew that tone all too well.

See, before I moved in, Belle had been feeding herself. Or trying to. The so-called food she made wasn't even fit for mortal consumption burnt, flavorless, sometimes still cold in the center. I swear her cooking could make a god reconsider immortality.

She cleared her throat, visibly flustered now. "Let's, um… not get ahead of ourselves. No need for rash statements about—"

"Breakfast?" I supplied helpfully.

Her cheeks twitched. "Shut up and go sit down," she snapped, turning away before anyone could see the faint pink creeping up her ears.

I smirked, strolling past her toward an empty seat as a few students quietly laughed behind their hands.

I scanned the room, eyes flicking over rows of faces nobles, geniuses, and whatever hybrids of arrogance and fear filled the rest.

Most of the seats were already taken, except for a few lonely ones in the very front. Front row. The realm of tryhards, teacher's pets, and those delusional enough to think proximity improves intelligence.

I snorted under my breath. "Yeah, no."

Instead, my gaze drifted to the very back, the window seat. The protagonist's natural habitat.

A single boy sat there, looking perfectly content with life, until he noticed me walking toward him. His confidence drained faster than a mana crystal in a mage's duel.

I stopped beside him and smiled, or, well, what I considered a smile. Apparently, it came off more like an execution notice.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" I asked politely.

(Translation: Move before I make you.)

He blinked.

Then nodded.

Very fast.

Such a wonderful student, listening so obediently without a word of complaint. Maybe my humble personality was finally paying off.

I slid into the seat, stretching an arm along the backrest, feeling quite at home. Nora sat beside me, still watching with that unreadable expression curious, and a bit amused.

Why this seat? Easy.

Because the protagonist always sits at the back, after all.

And if I was going to play the part… I might as well make it look good.

Class hadn't even started yet, and I'd already claimed the day's first victory.

Belle clapped her hands once, the sound sharp enough to slice through the murmur of conversation. "Alright, everyone, let's begin," she said, her voice carrying with that confident, commanding tone that instantly demanded attention.

"Welcome to your first official day as Astralis students. I expect discipline, focus, and the bare minimum amount of idiocy. If you can manage that, we might actually make something out of you."

A few students straightened up. A few others — the particularly brave or particularly dumb ones — chuckled softly.

I just leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, half-listening. I'd heard this kind of speech before the motivational preamble every academy, guild, or army commander gives when they're trying to sound inspiring.

Usually something like, "You are the future!" or "The fate of the realm rests on your shoulders!" Yeah, sure. Heard it, lived it, died through it.

My mind drifted elsewhere specifically, to the person sitting beside me.

Nora von Velkaris. White hair that shimmered faintly under the light, eyes like twin sapphires sparkling with a kind of starry enthusiasm that could power an entire city. She was practically vibrating with energy, her gaze fixed on Belle as if she were watching her favorite celebrity live.

"Hey," I said quietly, leaning toward her a little. "You look like you're about to start chanting prayers. You good there?"

No response.

I waited a beat, then tried again, waving a hand lightly.

"Earth to Nora?"

Nothing. She was locked in, eyes wide and sparkling like someone had just told her she'd won the universe's prettiest student award.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat, muttering under my breath. "Fantastic. The girl next to me has ascended to the Church of Belle. I'm surrounded by zealots already."

Sacha's voice brushed faintly against the back of my mind, her tone amused. "Papa, maybe she can't hear you because you're boring."

'I'm selectively charming, thank you,' I thought back, deadpan.

Belle's voice pulled me back into reality, smooth but firm. "Now," she said, tapping her gloved hand against the mana board behind her, "before we begin combat training, you need to understand the foundation of everything we do — the three fundamental energy types that govern existence itself."

That made me pause. My idle smirk faltered.

I tilted my head slightly, curiosity creeping in despite myself. Energy theory wasn't exactly the most exciting topic; it just sounded fancy. And even though I'd seen Belle use Vespera once before, I didn't actually know much about it or dualflow energy.

The air in the classroom seemed to shift, the chatter dying down. Even Nora stopped glowing long enough to blink.

I sat up a little straighter, eyes focusing on Belle as she began writing glowing sigils on the board, shapes that pulsed faintly with energy.

Alright… maybe this wouldn't be entirely boring after all.

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