A student stood beside the table, still as a statue. His black hair was combed neatly, swept to the left without a strand out of place. Thin, sharp-framed glasses rested on his nose, catching the light just enough to draw attention to his eyes; focused, unwavering. There was something rigid about him, like every movement was controlled before it even happened. His uniform was immaculate, pressed so cleanly it looked untouched by the day. He didn’t just look disciplined, he felt like it.

Beside him stood a girl who matched him in presence, if not surpassed it. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, not a single loose strand escaping. Her posture was straight, almost unnaturally so, chin slightly raised as her cold eyes scanned the hallway. Where the boy felt strict, she felt distant—like she had already judged everything around her and found it lacking. The air around them felt... tense. Heavy.

"How... can I help you?" I asked.

The boy squinted at me. "I’m Student Council Null. I’m... huh? Wait... who are you?"

"What?"

"You have... death all around you," he said, voice low. "So much of it. This is the first time I’ve felt something like this."

"I have no idea what you’re saying..."

"Orenthis," Mio cut in quietly. "He is blessed by Orenthis, God of Death. Some of the more sensitive blessed ones can sense the lingering aura of death on others."

"Look," I said, raising my hands. "I don’t want any trouble. Please."

"Who are you?" Null muttered, still staring.

I swallowed. "No one. Seriously. Just... tell me what you need."

The girl beside him spoke at last, her voice even and emotionless. "Null. We’re here on Student Council business. This isn’t relevant."

Null lingered a moment longer before exhaling quietly, like he was shelving the thought for later. Without another word, he reached into his pocket and placed a small key on the table.

"You’ve been assigned a dorm," he said. "Room 217."

I picked it up, turning it over in my fingers. "Oh. Right. Thanks."

His gaze didn’t leave me. "Stay out of trouble, Ace."

"I will."

"See that you do."

With that, he turned. The girl followed immediately, both of them leaving as abruptly as they had arrived.

Mio raised an eyebrow once they were gone. "That was... interesting. ’A lot of death,’ huh?"

I shrugged, trying to play it off. "I used to hunt a lot. Maybe he picked up on that."

Mio gave me a look that said she didn’t quite buy it. "Right. Hunting."

"Yeah."

"Hmm..."

Damn, he could sense stuff like that? That was dangerous. Very dangerous. But... that was done and gone. Right now, my focus was on one thing... the key. Finally, finally... I had a roof over my head now. I didn’t need to worry about tomorrow every single day, trying to earn enough gold to rent a room in a shitty tavern.

"Do you know where the boys’ dormitory is?" Mio asked.

"No," I replied, though I could always find it using the map.

"I’ll show you." She said. "Find me after school."

"Thank you."

Mio got up and exhaled, fixing her skirt. "No problem. See you soon."

"Yep."

Mio left, walking upstairs. I stayed at the table for a moment, looking around the hall. The giant elder tree’s leaves glowed softly above me, and students moved in small groups, chatting or practicing minor spells.

Suddenly, a shout cut through the noise.

"You’re defending those monsters?!"

A boy with short brown hair shoved another student hard in the chest. The second boy, taller, with a determined look, shoved back.

"Not every elf is evil!" the taller one snapped, stepping forward. "They’re not all the same! Some of them just wanted to live in peace, and we—"

"Peace?" the first boy let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "They tortured our people! Raped women and children! Burned villages! And you’re calling them victims?!"

The taller boy’s jaw tightened, anger flashing across his face. "That doesn’t justify hating every single one of them! Some elves fought with us against the Sultan—"

He never finished.

The first boy lunged, fist swinging.

The taller one twisted aside just in time and snapped his hand forward. A burst of compressed air detonated between them with a sharp crack, slamming into the attacker’s chest and throwing him backward into a desk.

Wood splintered.

For a split second, everything went still.

Then the fight exploded.

The first boy shoved himself up with a snarl, palm already glowing. A fireball roared to life in his hand, too large, too fast, and he hurled it across the room. The taller student ducked, the flames screaming past his head and smashing into a table behind him. It erupted in sparks and smoke, heat washing over the room.

Gasps broke out. Chairs scraped as students scrambled away.

The taller boy didn’t hesitate. He swept his arm outward, and jagged shards of ice formed in the air around him—thin, needle-like, glinting in the light. With a flick of his wrist, they shot forward.

The first boy raised his arm just in time. A burst of flame flared around him, melting some of the shards mid-flight—but not all. One sliced across his sleeve, another nicked his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.

He grinned.

"Good," he muttered. "Finally."

He slammed his foot into the ground.

Fire surged outward in a low wave, racing across the floor like a living thing. The taller boy jumped back, but the edge of the flames caught his leg, scorching fabric as he hissed in pain. He retaliated instantly, both hands out, palms open.

The air around them twisted.

A spinning current formed, pulling loose papers, dust, and even small debris into a tightening vortex between them. The flames bent, dragged sideways by the wind, flickering wildly as the current grew stronger.

The first boy braced himself, teeth gritted, then forced his arm forward.

The fire pushed through.

It tore into the vortex, scattering it in a violent burst that sent papers exploding outward in every direction. A chair lifted off the ground and flipped end over end before crashing down nearby.

Students were shouting now, some backing away, others watching with wide eyes, caught between fear and excitement.

They closed the distance again.

This time it wasn’t just magic.

A punch. A block. The taller boy drove his elbow forward, catching the other in the ribs—but a flash of heat forced him back as flames flared between them. He countered with another spell, forming a short, jagged blade of ice along his forearm and slashing forward.

The first boy twisted, but not fast enough. The ice blade grazed his side, tearing through cloth.

It felt like something much worse was about to happen.

"Enough!"

The word cracked through the room like thunder.

Professor Voss’s voice didn’t just interrupt the fight—it crushed it.

He stepped forward, raising a single hand.

The air shifted.

A powerful gust slammed into both boys at once, not wild like the student’s magic, but controlled... more like... like overwhelming. It hit them from opposite sides, ripping their footing out from under them and throwing them apart.

Silence followed, heavy and sudden.

"Both of you," Mr. Voss said, his voice low and sharp, "outside. NOW!"

Neither of them argued. They were breathing hard, still glaring at each other, but the fight had been ripped out of their hands.

"Yeesh." I muttered. "What a first day..."

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