Kaelen's flying bike cut smoothly through the crisp morning air, the capital's sprawling streets and glittering rooftops shrinking behind him. Minutes later, the skyline shifted tall, imposing towers rose ahead, their stonework gleaming under the sunlight.
From above, his gaze caught on a massive signboard carved entirely from jade. Bold crimson letters spelled out: Crimson Vale Institute, and perched above the inscription, a black dragon coiled in eternal watch, its eyes set with glinting gems.
Kitsu hovered near the bike's handle, its azure glow rippling across the polished metal.
"Master," it said in a deeper tone than usual, "according to earlier scans I ran with Voidspire… In the entire Crimson Empire, there are only three people with S-tier talent. First, the King of the royal family. Second, the Queen who conceals hers behind the facade of an A-tier."
"And third… the Grand Duke of the Crimson Empire—head of the Merues family."
Kaelen gave a small nod. He'd already known this, it was one of the later revelations in the novel's original plot.
Moments later, the bike descended toward the grand gates. A quick flash of his identity card earned him a polite nod from the guards, and he guided the vehicle toward the parking area.
Rows of sleek flying bikes lined the lot, their engines cooling in the morning breeze. His own didn't draw much attention in the capital, such machines were hardly rare.
Stepping off, he adjusted the strap of the messenger bag slung over his right shoulder and walked toward the main campus entrance. His expression remained calm, almost detached, as his eyes quietly scanned the bustling flow of students.
Clusters of white-coated youths moved past, black shirts beneath, red ties neatly knotted at their throats. Some chatted animatedly in groups, while others walked alone, heads down in thought. Then Kaelen's gaze drifted toward a pair moving together.
The first had short, jet-black hair and a presence that radiated quiet authority. Beside him walked a young man with long, flowing blue hair that caught the sunlight like strands of sapphire.
Both carried themselves with the effortless poise of nobility. The way girls nearby looked at them with sparkling eyes and barely contained excitement—said everything.
Kaelen's thoughts sharpened. "Cassian Ashford… prince of the Crimson Empire. And at his side—Theron Merues, heir to one of the highest-ranking Duke families." The two male leads of this world's story, walking as if the entire campus belonged to them.
From another direction, a carriage door clicked shut and a young woman stepped onto the path, her servant hurrying behind with her luggage. Fiery red hair spilled over her shoulders, her beauty striking yet edged with pride that warned others to keep their distance.
"Nyssa Valen…" Kaelen recognized her instantly. "Daughter of the Grand Duke's family, second only to the royal family. Antagonist of the tale… and fiancée to Prince Cassian."
But then his attention shifted again.
Through the main gates, walking alone, came a figure so luminous it felt like the air itself softened around her. A faint smile on her lips, her long black hair swaying in the breeze.
Perched atop her head were fox-like ears, their soft fur catching the light, making her look both elegant and endearingly cute. Her violet eyes held a quiet curiosity, and a small flower clip nestled in her hair like the final stroke of a master's painting.
"Eveline Monroe," Kaelen thought, feeling the weight of the moment. "The female protagonist of this world."
The original plot started here.
And he—well, he'd simply stay in the background.
At least, that was the plan.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
Soon after, the crowd of new students scattered toward their assigned classes. Kaelen's schedule took him to something he had been mildly curious about—Tea Ceremony Class.
He had read about it in novels before, where calm-minded masters performed delicate rituals with poetic grace. He wanted to see if it truly was a way to still the mind… or just a fancy excuse to drink tea.
The classroom resembled a miniature university lecture hall—circular rows of seats tiered around a central space where the instructor stood. Kaelen slid into a middle row seat, lounging slightly, his eyes lazily surveying the room.
The teacher was a striking woman who seemed out of place in such a serene-sounding subject. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, her long chestnut hair pinned back in a loose bun, stylish glasses perched on her nose. The crisp white professor's coat hugged her curves just enough to draw attention without being indecent. Her name tag read Alexia.
Judging by the starstruck looks of several male students, they were here for her beauty, not her brewing skills.
Kaelen, however, was unimpressed. His mother's beauty outshone hers effortlessly, and the maids at home were no less attractive.
Alexia's gaze swept over the class, calm but assessing—until it landed on him.
"You," she said, pointing lightly with a slender finger. "Yes, you in the middle row. Come down here. I'll demonstrate the proper way to prepare tea, and you'll assist me."
The room buzzed instantly.
"Isn't that the guy the Institute invited directly?" one student whispered.
"Yeah, Kaelen Arden. They say he didn't even have to take the entrance exam."
"What's so special about him?"
Kaelen descended the steps without hurry, his face an easy mask of composure.
"Yes, teacher," he said when he reached her. "How shall I help you?"
For a heartbeat, Alexia simply studied him, as though weighing the rumors against the boy in front of her. Then she smiled—calm, confident, and just a little intrigued.
"Tea ceremony," she began, "is not merely brewing leaves in water. It is an art, a discipline of precision, patience, and mindfulness."
From a polished copper box, she took a pinch of fresh tea leaves. A subtle flare of fire mana danced across her palm, lighting the small stove. The kettle hissed softly as she poured in water.
Her movements were unhurried, each gesture carrying the grace of long practice. She added the tea leaves, a spoon of sugar, a gentle pour of milk, and finally, a sprig of mint. The aroma spread through the room—rich, warm, and refreshing.
She poured the tea into a porcelain cup and extended it to him with a small, expectant smile.
"Try it."
Kaelen accepted it, feeling the warmth seep into his hands. He took a slow sip… paused… another sip… paused again. The class held its breath, as though waiting for his verdict.
Then, with perfect seriousness he set the cup down, stepped forward, took both of her hands in his, and gazed into her eyes.
"Teacher… Alexia Tea Enchantress. Please… marry me."
For a heartbeat, the room went silent and everyone blinking as if they weren't sure they'd heard him correctly.
Then the laughter hit like a tidal wave. A few students doubled over, clutching their stomachs. One guy dropped his pen, another slammed the desk repeatedly as if it would help him breathe. Even a girl in the back snorted so hard she covered her face with her notebook.
The two boys Kaelen had spoken to earlier were the loudest. One leaned halfway across the desk toward him, laughing between words.
"Hahaha... You're insane, bro! First day here and you propose to a teacher?!"
From the back, someone hollered over the noise, "You're steeping crazy! Nobody's ever dared that in Tea Ceremony Class before!"
Alexia froze for a fraction of a second, her eyes widening before a faint blush crept across her cheeks. She quickly stepped back, clearing her throat.
"Kaelen, mind your manners. This will be your first and last warning."
But the corners of her lips betrayed her, curling into the smallest hint of a smile. She hadn't expected such a bold, disarming move.
Realizing he'd overstepped, Kaelen let go, flashing an easy grin. "Sorry… excitement got the better of me." His tone softened as he met her gaze again. "But… will you teach me more about the Tea Ceremony later?"
Alexia gave him a look halfway between warning and amusement. "We'll see. Just… don't do that again."
The class settled down, but more than one student still glanced at Kaelen with a mix of disbelief and admiration.
After classes ended, Kaelen and his two new friends lingered in the courtyard, staring at nothing in particular. The afternoon sun was warm, but boredom was warmer.
Banlett leaned back on the bench, hands behind his head. "Man… this is dull. How about we head into the capital? Find a decent restaurant and grab a few drinks?"
Wester, the taller of the two, tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… not a bad idea. We can relax a little. Besides, the Institution gave us dormitory rooms—no need to worry about heading home early."
Kaelen's lips curved into a faint smile. "Alright, Banlett, Wester… let's go."
With that, he slid his hands into his pockets and strolled toward the parking area, the other two falling into step beside him.
In the lot, Kaelen swung a leg over his sleek, polished flying bike. Its engine purred like a content predator. Banlett and Wester climbed onto their own bikes—older models, sturdy but lacking the smooth hum of modern tech.
Kaelen didn't say a word about the speed difference. He simply revved his bike, lifted into the air, and glided toward the capital. The other two kicked off after him, their engines grumbling in protest as they tried to keep pace.
The city skyline shimmered in the distance, and somewhere ahead, a good restaurant awaited.
As they flew, Banlett and Wester exchanged a quick glance. "Kaelen Arden… he's dressed like us, talks like us… but that bike of his costs more than a small house." They didn't voice the thought, but the question lingered between them.
Soon, the three touched down in front of the Brass Lantern Café, one of the most prestigious restaurants in the capital.
After parking, Banlett glanced at the golden signage, then at Kaelen, his brow furrowing. "Uh… buddy, I think we've got the wrong address. This place… it's for nobles. Like high nobles."
Wester crossed his arms, equally skeptical. "Yeah, they don't exactly serve 'student budget specials' here."
Kaelen smirked. "Relax. I won a good amount in the lottery recently. Let's drink here today."
He didn't mention that the so-called "lottery" was actually the sale of a high-rank beast's corpse, that he'd eliminated alongside Kitsu. Some things were better left unsaid.
Banlett and Wester's eyes lit up like children spotting a dessert cart. "Kaelen, you're our best buddy!" they said in perfect unison.
Grinning, Kaelen led them inside.
The Brass Lantern Café was stunning—wide halls adorned with ancient brass lanterns that glowed softly, casting warm golden light across intricate wooden panels. Gentle waves of high-quality mana drifted through the air, soothing the mind and relaxing the body.
A hostess guided them to a private cabin. The seating was traditional, a low wooden table with soft floor cushions, the kind that invited long, unhurried meals.
A waitress arrived with three crystal glasses of sparkling water. Another followed, offering menus with a polite bow. "Sirs, what would you like to order?"
Kaelen scanned the menu briefly before saying, "Thyme-infused venison, seared lotus root salad, and grilled chicken. For drinks… Whispering Vine Chardonnay, Golden Ember Malbec, and a bottle of Dragon's Breath Spirit."
He glanced at his friends. "What about you two?"
Banlett waved a hand. "You're treating today, just pick for us."
Wester nodded. "Yeah, we trust your taste."
Kaelen smirked. "Alright, don't blame me when you can't stand up after the Dragon's Breath."