I should thank the personification of whatever god is still clocked in for giving small mercies or miracle—like making sure I still live near the Academy. If I had to commute from a few kilometers out, I'd be late every single day and probably kick out from the academy.
Right now, I'm in the middle of class, pretending to care while scribbling notes with one hand and propping up my half-asleep head with the other. But I have to focus.
Calvin and Kleo are both absent today.
Kleo, I get. She nearly died in the labyrinth a few nights ago. If she'd walked into class with a smile and a sandwich like nothing happened, I would've genuinely started to question if she is okay life.
Calvin, though? That idiot spam-called me this morning until I woke up. I was one alarm away from completely oversleeping, so I was ready to bite his head off… until I saw the time. He said he was heading to Kleo's place to be with her and told me to come along. I said no.
He almost lost it—started cussing me out mid-call until I told him one of us needed to show up and pretend to be academically responsible. Someone had to take notes. Might as well be me. Since he is already going to Kleo place.
Of course, I'll still have to swing by Kleo's house later. Like always, I don't really get a say.
The moment the professor starts packing his briefcase, I close my notebook with a quiet sigh. Same routine, different day.
Then I realize someone's standing in front of me. Tall. Still. Waiting for me to notice this person.
Earlier, people wouldn't stop pestering me with questions—what happened to Kleo, where it happen, are the rumors true? I played dumb. I'm good at that. Helps me keep a low profile, or at least it would if my so-called friends weren't local celebrities in this school.
"Mr. Corven, can we talk?" a girl says.
I glance up. It's one of my classmates. Name… starts with an I? Iyana? Yana?
"Make it quick," I say without looking her in the eye. "I need to catch to other professor and grab notes for Calvin and Kleo."
I start packing up, slow and deliberate. That's when her hand lands on my shoulder.
Firm grip. Too firm.
"I'll help you," she says. "But we need to talk. Privately."
That wasn't a suggestion. It sounded like a warning.
I sigh through my nose. "Fine. Wait for me outside. What's your name again?"
She looks like I slapped her with a textbook.
"I—I'm Illyana! We've been classmates for years!"
Oh. Right. Illyana.
Illyana Olivera. It clicks.
"Okay," I say plainly.
When I'm done packing, I glance at her again. "Where do you want to talk?"
"Hmph. Just follow me."
She doesn't wait for a reply—just turns and walks off. So, I follow.
Illyana Olivera. I know the name. She's close with Kleo I don't know about Calvin. Which means she probably wants answers about what happened to her. She's not getting any. I've told everyone I know nothing, and I plan to keep it that way.
Still… I remember her for a different reason. The silver brooch she always wears—it's shaped like a curled serpent, sleek and detailed. It reminded me of a character from an old cartoon I used to watch as a kid. Something about it stuck with me.
Her brooch holds her long, wavy hair in place. She walks with a kind of grace I wouldn't expect from someone asking questions like she's part of an interrogation unit. Her silver eyes practically glow under the hallway lights, framed by lashes too long to be fair. Unique look. Pretty. Easy to notice, even for someone like me who doesn't care to.
We pass through the hallway, silent except for our steps. Eventually, she stops in front of a door.
I read the sign. "Dojo".
She looks over her shoulder, eyes serious. "Inside."
And then she opens the door. The dojo is massive wall-to-wall training gear neatly organized into stations. Wooden practice weapons, combat dummies, even a tiny archery range in the corner. It smells like sweat and old varnish. A place built for breaking bones… or building confidence. Maybe both.
I barely step inside when Illyana shuts the door behind me with a loud click. She spins around and shoves me—not hard, but with enough force to push me back against the wall.
"What actually happened to them?" she demands.
Whoa. That escalated fast.
"I don't know," I answer, monotone, because I've said it so many times now it's basically become my catchphrase for today.
Her face twists in frustration, and suddenly—her hair starts to glow. Silver strands catching light that shouldn't be there.
Oh. She's got abilities too. Great.
She's angry. That much is obvious. Her brows furrow, and her glowing hair frames her face like she's seconds from blowing the room apart, yet… she still looks pretty. Kind of unfair, honestly.
"Kiara's not here. Kevin's not here. Now Kleo's gone too?" she says, voice cracking near the end. "Those people matter to me. So please—just be honest. Do you know anything?"
Her emotion hits like a wave. Desperate. Raw. Too much, too fast. As if she can easily get influence by her own emotions.
I push her off gently, not out of anger—just to make space. Cause she is doing to much.
"I—I'm sorry—"
"Come with me after class," I cut in before she can apologize. "I'm going to their house anyway."
She hesitates, embarrassed.
Yeah, I get it. Kleo's probably her sparring partner or a close friend. I'd be freaked out too if my usual routine suddenly stopped showing up. To be honest, I'm also a bit worried about her since I'm the only one in here who know what actually happen.
"Since I'm already here," I say, shifting mood, "can you just show me what you usually go over with Kleo so I can take notes?"
Illyana blinks, then slowly nods. Her cheeks are red, and she's pouting—like she's still mad but trying not to be.
"O-okay…"
She turns around. I dig my notebook and pen out of my bag and follow her, mentally preparing for something useful.
Illyana stepped toward the center of the training room, rolling her shoulders like she was about to spar with a ghost. She stopped in front of one of the rotating dummies—an old, dented piece of tech with wooden limbs attached to a central spinning column. It was designed to test reaction time, balance, and muscle memory. Get hit enough, and it teaches you humility, too.
She raised her fists in a basic stance. Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight—but she looked stiff. Like she was mimicking something she saw, not something she understood.
"Alright," she said, "this is what we usually do first."
She stepped in and punched.
The dummy whirred. Its arms spun around with predictable force, but Illyana's reflexes were a step behind. One of the limbs caught her side with a dull thunk, making her stumble.
"Ah—okay, that was… fine," she mumbled, adjusting her stance. She tried again.
Another punch. Another rotation. This time she tried to duck, but she hesitated—and the spinning arm tagged her shoulder.
She let out a frustrated growl, shaking her hand like that might help.
I quietly took notes, watching her repeat the sequence. Jab. Spin. Smack. Reset.
Over and over, she attacked the dummy using identical timing, like she was trying to brute-force rhythm into muscle memory. Her punches were clean, but not heavy. Her footwork was rigid, like she didn't trust her own balance. And she kept biting her lip every time she missed a block.
"She's not learning how to fight," I thought. "She's memorizing a pattern."
After another failed rotation attempt, she stepped back, breathing hard. Her shirt was clinging to her back now, tied at the waist for mobility. A few strands of silver hair had come loose and stuck to her cheek.
She lined up again.
This time she tried something different—feinting left before striking with her right. It almost worked. Almost.
The dummy spun faster now, and she was too slow to adjust. The wooden arm slammed into her thigh, knocking her off-balance. She grunted, fell to one knee, and punched the floor with frustration.
What in the actual, basic hell is this?
I just realize I've been watching her for sixty minutes already, she's been walking me through the most elementary drills imaginable punching, kicking, basic blocks. It's like the starter pack of every martial arts montage, minus the dramatic music.
Is this why Kleo can't fight properly? Or maybe I'm just too used to combat training designed to kill monsters, not pass exams.
Illyana's currently losing a one-sided war with a rotating training dummy. She grits her teeth, winds up, and throws a punch. It backfires immediately—the dummy spins around and smacks her arm.
"Ugh…" she groans, clutching her wrist.
I sigh, involuntarily.
She glares at me. "You keep doing that!"
"Doing what?"
"That!" she says, mocking my sigh with exaggerated drama. "Haaaah."
I try—really try—not to laugh. She looks ridiculous.
I stand up, drop my notebook on the ground, and stretch my arms and my leg.
"Excuse me," I say, walking past her. She steps aside, confused.
"This is how you do it."
I square up to the rotating dummy. Left punch. Duck. Right block. Step back. Repeat.
Each hit triggers the dummy to swing faster, its arms spinning like a windmill. But it's just momentum—predictable if you know what to look for. The key is rhythm. Block what you can, evade what you can't, and never stop moving.
The lieutenant drilled this into me. Basic principles of movement. Timing. Control.
"See? This is how you—"
I glance back, and Illyana's staring at me, wide-eyed. Like I just turned into a different species.
I get distracted.
Whack.
"Ah—!" The dummy clips my shoulder. Didn't hurt, but… yeah. That was dumb.
Right. I forgot—I'm supposed to be keeping my skill level under wraps.
Illyana rushes up and grabs my hand, her silver eyes bright and intense.
"How did you do that?! Are you an expert? Please teach me!"
"C-coincidence," I lie as I gently remove her hands off me. She just keeps bouncing beside me, asking again and again like a kid discovering things they like.
I sigh. Again.
Eventually, I gave up and start teaching her the basics. I pretend to be looking at tutorials on my phone, just in case someone's watching. Plausible deniability.
She struggles. A lot. But to her credit, she's not weak. Her body's toned muscle where it counts. She's clearly been training hard, even if her form's a mess. Like a total mess. If Lieutenant was here she will be punished.
Time slips by. Before I know it, it's already 3:00 PM.
"I think we can stop here. I've gotta head to Kleo's house," I say, checking the time in the phone.
Illyana's drenched in sweat, her shirt tied around her waist, her breathing heavy—but she doesn't complain.
"Already?" she says, a little disappointed.
I smile at her. Just a little one.
She looks away immediately, cheeks turning pink.
Did I weird her out? Probably. Doesn't matter anyway and it's for the better. So less interaction with her in the future.
"Clean yourself up. I'll wait outside."
I pack my things and step into the hall.
It's been a while since I talked to someone that long. I don't really do social. My routine's simple: wake up, go to school, survive class, prep for the night, fight monsters, sleep. Repeat.
Maybe that's why Riku and the lieutenant got so weirdly excited when they found out I had friends outside work. Guess they were worried about me.
Maybe they were right.
Maybe I should do more… normal student things. Stuff people my age actually enjoys.
I've got 500 gold in the bank. Enough to upgrade my gear, grab some supplies. Maybe hit the market. Stock up on snacks.
I also heard there's a night market happening soon.
"That's a lot of sweets…" I mutter to myself.
"Thinking about something sweet?" a voice says behind me.
I blink.
It's Illyana. Fresh uniform. Hair neatly tied back. Not a single trace of the sweat-drenched fighter from earlier. She looks like she just stepped out of a perfume ad.
Her whole aura is unfair. Staying resh after that.
"What are you thinking about?" she asks, poking my cheek.
"Nothing. You ready to go?" I ask.
She nods.
We start walking—quiet, side by side toward the bus stop that'll take us to Kleo's place.
During our walk toward the bus stop just outside the academy gates, I tried to keep pace away from Illyana. Not an easy feat people kept swarming around her like moths to a flame. I get it—she's pretty, tall, has that silver-eyed stare but it was a bit much. Still, I noticed how she subtly leaned closer to me, matching my speed as if like she was fighting through the crowd just to stick with me.
I gave her a sideways glance, expecting her to look annoyed or uncomfortable. Instead, she just smiled—like we were close or something. That was...new.
Once we reached the bus station, I pulled out my phone and checked the app for the next ride.
"Five minutes," I muttered to myself.
"By the way, how do you know how to get to Kleo's house?" Illyana asked, glancing over.
I tilted my head at her. "How do you not know?"
She shrugged, smirking. "Who said I didn't? You just assumed."
…Fair point. I did just tell her to come along without thinking.
Then her tone shifted. "You think she's okay?"
I froze. It wasn't the kind of question you could answer cleanly.
Part of me wanted to say yes—I'd saved her, hadn't I? She survived.
But another part of me said no. What she went through isn't normal. Not for someone our age. Not for anyone. And the aftermath... she'd carry that for a long time.
"I… I don't know," I replied, quieter than intended.
She didn't say anything back. Neither did I. For a few minutes, silence stretched between us—something I usually welcomed. But right now, it just felt heavy.
When the bus finally arrived, we tapped our IDs and boarded. Kleo's house was in the village district—a residential zone too far to reach without a vehicle or public transit. The ride took about twenty minutes. The whole time, neither of us said a word. Not because we had nothing to say, but because neither of us knew how to say it.
We got off and walked the rest of the way. I'd been here before, but the size of her family's estate still managed to hit like a punch to the gut. A four-story mansion tucked behind a pristine red gate. Immaculate hedges, polished stone paths, and a butler who looked like he belonged in a movie.
He bowed slightly and led us inside.
The living room alone was four times the size of my entire apartment. High ceilings. Chandeliers. Walls lined with old paintings and bookshelves. The couch we were guided to could seat a football team.
"Her house never fails to amaze me…" Illyana whispered, still gawking.
Yeah. Can't blame her.
Movement caught my eye. From the second-floor balcony, two people waved down to us—Kleo and, of course, Calvin. Figures. Clingy as ever.
"Guys~!" Kleo called out, her voice soft but cheerful.
Illyana didn't hesitate. She shot up like a bullet. "KLEOOO!!" she squealed, racing upstairs like she hadn't seen her in years.
I followed behind at a slower pace.
When I reached the top, Illyana was already hugging Kleo tightly, eyes misty.
"What happened? Are you okay? Why is he here?" she said, shooting Calvin a side-eye so sharp it could cut steel.
Kleo just laughed softly, though her gaze flicked to me—and lingered. I avoided it.
"I'm fine. Just got caught up in some… unexpected training," she said with a calm, practiced tone.
So this is the play.
"Training did this to you?!" Illyana gasped.
"It got out of hand, but I'm okay now. Just tired."
Calvin stepped between them. "Hey, hey—she's still recovering," he said, acting like her personal guard dog.
Then he turned to me. "Glad you showed up."
"Just checking in," I replied, holding up my notebook. "And delivering today's notes."
"You two came together?" he asked, brows raised.
I nodded.
"That's new," Kleo said with a teasing edge in her voice.
I looked at her and offered a small smile. "Glad you're doing alright."
Illyana, curious as ever, leaned forward. "So… what happened to Kevin and Kiara? I heard they were involved."
"We can talk in my room," Kleo replied.
We followed her there. And yeah—her room matched the rest of the house. Queen-sized bed. Wall-mounted TV. A full training setup. Her desk had more monitors than I have. Even her couch was plush enough to fall asleep on.
As we sat down, Kleo launched into her cover story. I nodded along, pretending to believe it.
Apparently, Kiara's father had taken the blame—claiming their private training session got out of hand. That they used a "trained" monster, and things went wrong. Clean. Simple. Plausible.
"So… just a private session that went bad?" Illyana asked.
"Yep. Don't worry—I'll be back in a few days. Try not to be too lonely without me," Kleo joked.
Illyana pouted but brightened quickly. "No worries—this guy helped me in the dojo today!" she said proudly, pointing straight at me.
I flinched.
Kleo's smile faltered. Calvin looked surprised.
"Y-you did?" Kleo asked.
I panicked. "Uh—yeah! Saw some vids on NewTube. Just copied them. Showed her a few moves."
I even pulled out my phone and faked scrolling to one. Played it cool. Kind of. Hope it works finger crossed.
Calvin clapped me on the back. "Good for you! Learning to fight's important, right Kleo?"
She didn't answer right away. Just looked away.
"Kleo?" Calvin said again.
"Y-yeah! Totally!" she replied quickly, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
We stayed a while longer. Calvin, as usual, bragged about being there first. Illyana talked about her training. I handed over the notes—including the stuff from our session. Kleo's family even brought out snacks.
I mostly kept to myself, nodding when needed. Pretending to scroll through my phone. I'm trying my best to blend in the couch removing my presence slowly as I wait.
When the clock hit five, I stood up.
"Sorry—it's getting late. I've got to head home."
"It's only five," Calvin said. "We can all take the bus back."
Illyana nodded. "Yeah, let's go together."
"I've got things to do," I said quickly, trying to dodge the invitation.
Illyana reached out to stop me. "Wait—can you just—"
I pulled her hand away gently. That's when someone knocked at the door.
Perfect timing. Thank you, mystery knocker.
The door creaked open. I glanced up—then immediately regretted it.
Of all people… it had to be him.
Mr. Kale Ruby. Kleo's father.
"Mr. Ruby! Good afternoon!" Calvin and Illyana said in unison, voices bright and polite. I followed with a quiet nod and dipped my head out of respect.
Mr. Kale's eyes landed on me. I tried to smile—something halfway polite, halfway invisible—and looked away instantly.
"Leaving already?" he asked, voice calm but unmistakably commanding.
"N-no…" I stammered, caught off guard. My legs moved on their own as I sat back down like a scolded student. Smooth.
He gave a short nod. "Good. I have a guest who'd like to speak with you privately, Kleo."
"Oh?" Kleo replied, and I swear I caught a flicker of excitement in her voice. "Who is it, Dad?"
He turned toward the hallway. "You can come in now."
My stomach dropped.
No. No, no, no.
Calvin stood up straight like a soldier and gave a textbook salute. "War Hero Lady Virgilia Ferrus!"
I froze.
My eyes widened the moment hers met mine. Lady. Here. In this house. In this room.
What in the hell is this kind of coincidence?
I couldn't even run. Not with Mr. Kale right next to me and Lady standing at the doorway like some dramatic scene out of a movie. I closed my eyes and tried not to scream into the void.
Lady gave Calvin a small gesture to drop the salute—clearly not interested in theatrics.
"Kleo," Illyana whispered beside me, "why would someone like her want to talk to you?"
And Kleo… she looked at me. Why me?! What do you expect me to say? I barely managed to keep my heartbeat steady.
"Maybe… something about the training," Kleo answered quickly, playing it off as she stood and approached Lady. She gave a soft wave to us before leaving the room with her.
And just like that, we were down to four people.
"What was that all about?" Calvin asked.
"Kleo said it might be about training," Illyana answered, still visibly shaken by Lady's sudden appearance.
I stayed silent, anchored to the couch as they talked about Lady's war legacy. But I could feel it—that prickling sensation when someone's watching you.
When I looked up, I saw Mr. Kale still staring at me.
Nope. I do not want to be in this situation.
I stood up quickly. "I—uh—can I use the bathroom?"
Calvin chuckled. "You don't need permission for that, man."
I laughed weakly and walked toward the door. The moment I stepped out, Mr. Kale followed and gently shut the door behind us.
"Theo Corven," he said, his voice low and firm—just enough authority to freeze me mid-step.
"I never properly thanked you for saving my daughter."
"It was just a bounty mission, sir," I replied, using 'sir' awkwardly. It didn't feel right in my mouth.
"Still. If it weren't for you, Kleo might not be here. If there's anything you need—"
"There's no need," I cut him off. Too quickly. He blinked in surprise.
"I just did my job. That's all."
He chuckled, surprisingly. "You're not going to the bathroom, are you?"
I gave a small nod.
"You're going to find Lady."
"…Yeah."
"Calling the War Hero 'Lady' in front of my company would've gotten me court-martialed," he said with a smile, gesturing for me to follow. I fell into step beside him.
"Sorry. Habit," I muttered.
He stopped in front of a door. "Just a warning—it's going to be a long talk."
"Long?" I repeated.
He opened the door, and inside, there she was—Lady. Along with Kleo, Kiara, and Mr. Ram.
"Theo. Didn't expect you here," Lady said, her voice lighter than usual. She walked toward me and gave my back a firm pat. Mr. Kale visibly tensed.
Yeah. People were scared of her. I'm assuming that Lady abused this people or something.
I mumbled, "People are afraid of you."
Lady laughed. Loud and real. The room practically shook from it.
"Never heard you laugh like that, General," Mr. Ram said.
General?
I looked at her.
Lady caught my expression and smirked. "Mr. Kale Ruby and Mr. Ram Ruby served under me during the war."
Makes sense now.
The two men sat down beside their daughters. The entire arrangement felt like a council meeting.
"Can we start the questioning?" Lady asked. Her tone was different now—firm, no-nonsense.
Both men nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"Where exactly did you enter? How did you reach the labyrinth?"
Kiara swallowed hard. "I-it was near our garden. In the backyard. I found it by accident…"
The Ruby household? Seriously?
"Do you have photos of it? Show me—and Theo."
Lady wasn't asking. She was commanding.
Kiara pulled out her phone and scrolled. Within seconds, she laid the device on the table. I stepped closer, leaning over to look.
It didn't look like the other entrances. This one was messy. Rough. Like something dug its way through.
"Theo, thoughts?" Lady asked.
I picked up the phone. Yeah, this definitely wasn't one of the normal breaches like what we have in the past.
"I'm not sure, but… it doesn't look natural. It wasn't made, it was dug. And not cleanly either."
"Do you think it came from inside the labyrinth or from the surface down?" she asked.
I studied the image again.
"From the labyrinth up," I said. "But it wasn't a Lasant. A Lasant's beam would've cut clean through. This? This was carved."
"…Something got out," I added.
Mr. Kale stiffened. Mr. Ram's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean got out? There's a monster in the household?" Mr. Kale asked.
I nodded grimly. "Possibly."
"We can call Riku to scout it out," I suggested.
Lady shook her head. "No. Bringing in Riku means delay, exposure, more questions. We act now."
Mr. Ram stood up. "We'll help."
Kiara looked terrified. Kleo tensed.
Lady exhaled slowly. "Kale, sweep the northern perimeter. Kill anything suspicious. Anything that moved in the shadows hit it with fire always light your places."
He stood and nodded.
"Ram—check around your household's grounds. Look for trails or tampering. Make sure double check all the corner. "
He gave a sharp nod as well.
Then she looked at me. Her gaze softened, just for a second.
"Theo, I know you won't like this… but watch over these two. Keep them safe."
I wanted to protest. But… I understood.
"What about the rest of the household?" I asked.
Mr. Kale put a hand on my shoulder. "Already told the rest of the staff to remain inside and keep alert. I also told my butler to guide your friends to the bus stop. No worries."
"Thanks, Dad," Kleo said, hugging him tightly.
He kissed her forehead and walked out. Mr. Ram did the same with Kiara. But before leaving, he turned to me and grab my shoulder.
"Please. Protect her."
"I will," I answered quietly. I do not have a choice.
Then they were gone.
Lady stood in the center of the room, arms crossed. I could tell—she was tense. More than usual.
Something wasn't right. The way she commanded us it felt like she is aware what or who the enemy is.
"…Aren't we rushing this?" I asked, unable to hold it in.
"No. We have to rush," she replied, her eyes darkening. "It might be that thing."
That word dropped like a bomb.
"Roverounus."
The moment she said it, something cold settled in my chest. Memories hit me like static flashes. That name. That monster. That intelligence…
I turned to look at Kleo and Kiara—still unaware. Still clueless of about what to happen. Only me and Lady know that this monster capable of.
But that name alone sent every nerve in my body on edge.
And if it really was Roverounus…
Then none of us were ready.