Not to brag or anything, but… maybe I am kinda awesome

Training.

One of those "essential life requirements," or so they say. Having a fit and active body means you can finish your tasks faster. That’s what I believed about training.

Even so, I can't exactly say I have a well-trained body or anything close to a muscular build. My physique isn’t all that different from the average person’s—maybe just a little stronger, thanks to working on the farm. But I’d chalk that up to routine activity, not strength.

And right now, as I drag my legs across this godforsaken training field... yeah. My thoughts feel painfully accurate.

“Haaah... haaah... haaah...”

“Come on, you soft falcon! Where’s your fire? Where’s your fighting spirit? Spread those wings and catch up with the rest of your flock!!”

“…Soft... falcon.”

I didn’t even have the energy to come up with a decent retort to that. And I wasn’t sure if those words were meant to be encouragement or an insult in disguise. Since leaving the classroom and stepping onto this massive field next to the academy building, we’d been running non-stop. For over an hour. No breaks. No mercy.

It had started out simple—just a light jog that most students underestimated. But that quickly escalated into a relentless sprint that punished every muscle in your legs and back. And the cherry on top? That merciless sun roasting us from above.

The only thing I was genuinely grateful for were the lightweight training uniforms they handed out before we stepped outside. Somehow, they absorbed sweat and kept our bodies cool. If it weren’t for them, I probably would’ve collapsed by now.

But beyond the physical exhaustion, there was something—someone—making this even worse...

“Move those scrawny legs! No stopping yet!”

That voice again.

Ever since the jog turned into full-blown torture, Instructor Leonhart had been pushing us harder and harder, barking orders with that same manic energy. Demanding—no, forcing—us to crush our limits and keep going.

And seriously, who the hell is he calling scrawny? Most of the students had already dropped out by the forty-minute mark. Even Hikaru had slowed down and was trailing behind me now. Out of the original thirty-two students, I could only see ten still ahead—Leo at the front, with Alice right behind him.

Honestly, I was holding a pretty decent position. Not far from the front. Don’t I deserve some praise instead of being called a limp-legged falcon or whatever?

Speaking of the front, it wasn’t surprising that Leo was doing well. The guy fights barehanded for crying out loud. And Alice—despite looking fragile—was insanely flexible. But even for elites like them, running full speed for an entire hour had to be brutal.

I could see the fatigue written all over their faces, even from where I was.

Still… this training… what the hell does it have to do with magic anyway? Isn’t the whole point of magic to enhance your physical abilities? If we’re gonna buff ourselves magically, why beat our bodies into the ground like this?

Not that I had the nerve to actually ask that out loud.

I kept running, trying to conserve what little energy I had left by slightly slowing my pace.

Up ahead, among the leading group, I spotted some of the usual handsome noble types. Somehow, unlike most of their kind, they were keeping up just fine.

Guess they’re not all talk after all.

Oh, and then there was her—that girl with the long red ponytail, running behind Alice, trailed by four others with the exact same hair color. She hadn’t slowed down once since this nightmare started. No signs of exhaustion on her face either. She looked like running was just… a hobby for her or something.

And those four behind her? Same deal. No heavy breathing, no wobbly legs, not even a bead of sweat on their expressionless faces.

It was eerie. They looked… unnaturally composed. Like this wasn’t a run at all—it was a stroll. A casual walk in the park.

Curious, I tried to move closer to get a better look—but the moment I did, I felt something snap in my leg with a terrifying crack. That killed my curiosity real fast, and I slowed down even more.

And that’s when it happened.

“…So you want to do it the hard way, huh? Is that it...?”

Suddenly, I felt this ominous presence. A muttered whisper from the direction of Instructor Leonhart.

Every melted brain cell in my head screamed in unison: something bad is about to happen.

And sure enough—

BOOM

We all heard it. That strange sound—like thunder out of nowhere. I turned my head back to look, and—

“...!!”

There it was.

A massive, rolling boulder, barreling toward us from the distance, fast enough to make anyone under it look like an ant under an elephant’s foot.

“?! Where the hell did that come from?!”

“Move it, idiot! Get outta the way!!”

The moment the students behind saw that monstrosity, panic broke loose. The ones lying on the ground suddenly found the will to stand—and run—as if their lives depended on it.

Because, well... they did.

“Hahaaa!! Now this is what I like to see! That’s the spirit! Run faster! FASTER! Run like you don’t wanna be turned into magical paste!!”

Leonhart's voice rang out again, even louder than the chaos, full of twisted glee—as if this whole thing was some kind of motivational exercise.

“…That lunatic…”

I muttered under my breath, far enough ahead to not be crushed yet, but close enough to see the damn thing gaining on us.

Ten minutes.

That’s how long it took for everyone to suddenly become a talented sprinters, scrambling over each other in a desperate bid to reach the front. I was one of them. Don’t judge me. It was survival.

“Move it, slowpoke!!”

“Outta my way!!”

“You’re almost there, Falcons! Just a bit more! Victory is within your grasp!”

Our screams of terror mixed with Leonhart’s enthusiastic cheerleading. The maniac was probably having the time of his life.

While I was smack in the middle of all that chaos, I was just trying not to accidentally step on someone’s foot—because one wrong step might’ve turned me into the first victim of Leonhart’s stone beast.

That said… I hadn’t felt any pain in my legs for a while now, even though I was sprinting at full speed. No pain, nothing.

Fear. That was all Leonhart needed to pull the trigger on. It was fear that launched this whole messed-up situation—us running for our lives from a freaking rock monster. No thinking. Just run. That was the only plan.

Though… I’m not even sure this counts as running away. We were just going in circles endlessly. We couldn’t even jump to the sides because the boulder was too wide… and way too close.

Then, of course, the worst happened.

“…Crap, this is bad…”

My legs were finally giving in. I just couldn’t move them fast enough to keep up. No matter how many times I tried, the pain—yeah, the one that disappeared earlier—was back, and it was worse. My legs outright refused to go faster, no matter how much I begged.

Honestly, I’d already hit my limit. The only reason I was still running was because of our teacher… and his oversized pet chasing us like it was snack time.

Scared? Yeah, of course I was. What started as training turned into a desperate attempt to not die. But for some reason, the fear slowly started fading. And when that so-called adrenaline—or “fear hormone” or whatever—stopped boosting my legs, numbness began spreading through my body.

Then, just like fate had grown a conscience, we finally heard the words we’d been dying to hear since this nightmare began:

“Alright, that’s enough! Good work, everyone!”

The moment our instructor said that in a pleased tone, the boulder vanished into thin air.

As soon as we saw it disappear, we all collapsed like puppets with their strings cut—gasping like we hadn’t breathed in years, trying to refill lungs that had been emptied by endless sprinting.

“Haaah… haaah… haaaah…”

Flat on my back, I couldn’t hear anything except the pounding of my heart and the sound of my own ragged breathing.

“You’ll never push yourselves to reach your goals unless something threatens those very goals!”

Leonhart said proudly.

Are we getting a lecture now? Pretty sure what you threatened was our lives, not just our goals.

Thanks to him, I don’t think I’ll be able to stand for a while.

“Well then, that’s it for today! Go feed your empty stomachs! Keep training your bodies so they don’t wither away! Until we meet again, young falcons!”

He shouted, walking away with flair.

He just keeps calling us “falcons.” Nothing but “falcons.” Is he… like, a falcon enthusiast or something?

My exhausted brain couldn’t help but picture his room, filled wall to wall with falcon heads, falcon paintings, and even falcon pelts…

“Man, that was brutal training… How’d you do, Shiro? I see you didn’t end up as mashed meat!”

“…You’re hilarious, Mr. Show-Off.”

How does he even have the energy to joke? What kind of superhuman stamina is this?

And he’s walking like nothing happened too. What, did he train in the mountains or something?

“ now we can finally eat! That training really worked up my appetite. Come on, get up! You must be starving too!”

“No… I can’t move. My legs—”

“What are you saying, man? C’mon, give me your hand!”

“W-Wait, stop—Ow!”

Leo yanked me up by the arm, dragging me to my feet. Just as I feared, a shockwave of pain exploded through my entire body.

I swallowed a scream, stared up at the sky, and took a deep breath to calm myself—so I wouldn’t punch this idiot.

“Hm? You okay?”

he asked, genuinely confused.

“…I’m fine.”

He wouldn’t get it even if I explained. And honestly, I don’t have the energy for that.

“Alright, let’s go!”

Apparently, Leo had no plans to wait for Hikaru, who was still lying on the ground like a fish out of water—literally. His dry face looked like he was about to whisper “Water…”

Before I could even check on him, Leo dragged me toward the academy.

I must’ve looked ridiculous, stumbling along beside Leo and his grumbling stomach. After taking a couple of wrong turns and asking for directions more times than I’d like to admit, we finally reached the academy’s cafeteria on the fourth floor—a pretty fancy place too.

Just what you’d expect from a place like Stalefort.

One glance and you’d notice the decorated tables, rows of elegant chairs stretching out in neat formation, and along the left side of the entrance, a series of wide windows. Behind each window stood a person who seemed to be taking orders and passing them to a kitchen I couldn’t even see.

But that smell… oh man, that smell kept teasing my nose, cranking up my hunger to dangerous levels.

Leo wasn’t doing any better.

“Whoa… this place is amazing! Do you smell that?! That aroma is divine… aaah.”

“No—Stop sniffing like that, people are looking—just stop!”

“Let’s go order already! I can’t wait another second!”

Chasing his nose, Leo dashed toward one of the open windows, leaving me at the entrance.

“His stomach really is his weakness…”

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I muttered while watching his back. I slowly made my way to another window, taking a moment to glance around the packed cafeteria.

Chandeliers, fine carpets, and gourmet food. Even the snobbiest nobles wouldn’t find a single thing to complain about here. Not that I’d ever been to a fancy capital restaurant myself, but my father used to bring food from them whenever he returned from the capital, so I knew they were famous for their top-tier dishes.

Nobles wouldn’t blink an eye at this level of quality—but someone like me? I was blown away. If the food tastes as good as this place looks… I’m in trouble.

What could possibly be better than dining somewhere this elegant? Free food, of course.

Yep, some of the meals here were totally free. And no, they weren’t just tiny snacks. We’re talking full-course meals with fresh juice and everything.

But of course, there were also the “paid” dishes. Anyone could buy them… assuming you had a small fortune. Just one plate of smoked gourmet chicken? Ten silver coins.

Ten.

I could feed myself for three days with that kind of money!

And that chicken? It was the cheapest item on the menu. I saw dishes going for 200 silver…

My poor peasant brain couldn’t handle that level of extravagance.

And just by taking a peek at the students' tables—mostly nobles—you’d see them all dining on dishes I’d have to save for an entire month just to afford the cheapest option.

Yeah, I’m never buying anything here. I’ll stick to the good free menu.

“Hm?”

Then I noticed something odd. Something that maybe anyone would spot the moment they walked in here… or maybe it was just me. Maybe only I’d notice this kind of thing, for reasons I can’t really explain.

“…So there aren’t any cliques like that here…”

I muttered as I glanced around the cafeteria.

What I meant were those usual groupings you see in places like this—nobles sticking with nobles, commoners with commoners. No mixing. As if mingling between classes was forbidden.

But here… I didn’t see any of that. Unless my eyes had literally melted from the sunlight outside, it was clear as day: all kinds of students from all kinds of backgrounds were sitting together, enjoying their meals without a care.

Of course, Stalefort welcomed all kinds of races—without exception.

I could spot half-dragons mingling with nobles and commoners alike on the other side of the hall. Dwarves, elves, and so many other races that most noble-run cities in Wysperia would never allow to freely gather like this. Even if some of them held noble titles in their own kingdoms, you'd rarely—if ever—see genuine friendships or unity between them. And yet, here… it was the complete opposite. Students from the second years to the fifth… I saw harmony. A kind of harmony I'd never witnessed anywhere else outside of Stalefort.

Naturally, that doesn't mean humans—well, a certain type of them—weren’t still guilty of looking down on the other races simply because of how they looked. But if we're being honest, what even is the real difference between a human and an elf? Pointy ears? That's it. And when it came to demi-humans and dragonkin, the only real difference was that the latter hailed from Linderia—known as the Dragon's Land. That title came from the ancient dragons that once called that kingdom home. The people of Linderia inherited the dragons’ traits: resilience, elemental affinity, and even unique magical abilities—some could apparently even transform into dragons themselves, or so my father once told me.

Still, their natural form was entirely human. You couldn't even tell them apart from regular humans if they weren't using their abilities. But physically… they were on another level. Way above any average person.

As for me, I hadn’t left the village much. Just a few short trips to some of Wysperia’s more well-known cities—for errands and the like. And every time I did, I’d witness the same thing. A noble’s carriage would pass by—or even a noble on foot—and I could clearly see the fear on the faces of the commoners. They didn’t want trouble.

During those short visits, I saw people get insulted for the smallest things. Kids smacked just for kicking a ball too close to a noble’s path. Grown men kneeling because they hadn’t moved out of the way quickly enough. Women—girls even—snatched off the roadside and dragged into carriages, headed who knows where.

Those memories stuck with me. They were enough to make me refuse to step outside the village again—unless I absolutely had to. While the guards played blind, the nobles—those who truly held power—did whatever they wanted to the common folk.

Even so, despite all of that—I still don’t believe all nobles are bad. Yeah, my confidence in that idea chips away every time I watch someone get humiliated or beaten over something trivial, but… I've seen it. Just a few rare, fleeting moments—where a real noble showed kindness to a commoner.

And those moments… those few seconds of genuine decency… were enough to make me forget the horrors of the rest.

That’s why what I was seeing now made me genuinely happy. This rare, delicate harmony among everyone—it was so comforting. It made me believe the world still had a chance to change.

…At least, until my gaze wandered to a certain corner of the hall and I recognized a few too-familiar faces.

“...”

First-years. All you had to do was look at them, and you’d see the exact opposite of what I just described. Or maybe, you'd just see... the world as it normally is outside these walls.

“...They’ll come around eventually... probably.”

Sighing softly as I muttered that to myself, I kept my eyes on them.

As long as the majority leaned toward unity, their "infection" would surely spread to the younger years sooner or later. That's just how group mentality works. Public opinion. An invisible force that drags you with it—whether you like it or not.

“Shiro Leonard…”

“Hmm?”

Just as I was about to return to my original plan—grabbing something to eat before my stomach declared civil war—I heard someone call my full name.

That voice… it was way too familiar.

“…Supervisor Shin.”

Looking to my right, I spotted him approaching—calm and composed as always.

Naturally, I had no idea why he was calling for me specifically. With my full name, no less. But he just kept walking straight toward me.

“Follow me.”

“…?”

That was it? Just “Follow me”?

If you think I’m gonna follow you around just because you said so—especially when you can clearly see I’m starving after being put through training hell—then you’ve got another thing coming.

If you seriously thought I’d just obey your dry, emotionless order—

…You were absolutely right.

I mean, did you see his face? He didn’t even look mad, but somehow… you just couldn’t say no to a face like that.

So I followed him quietly.

We walked past the tables, drawing a few unwanted glances as we went. Turns out, the cafeteria had a second floor reserved for the faculty. That’s where supervisor Shin took me.

It wasn’t as spacious as the main floor, but it had a calm, refined atmosphere.

I kept following close behind him. Some of the teachers looked up from their meals to eye me curiously. I even spotted Leonhart—the one obsessed with falcons. It wasn’t his huge frame that made him stand out, though. It was the pile of empty plates at his table—over twenty?! And he was still going.

Internally, I was floored by the sheer scale of his appetite.

After a bit of walking, supervisor Shin suddenly stopped at a certain table—where someone was sitting alone.

Round. Short. Fluffy.

I won’t forget that last one.

He sat alone, glasses perched on his nose, twirling noodles in a bowl of pasta.

“…? Oh! You actually brought him!”

The guy—who was clearly a teacher based on his uniform—lit up the moment he noticed us and spoke to supervisor Shin with a bright tone.

“Yeah. You can sit here, Shiro.”

Following his lead, I sat down in front of the bespectacled man—whose eyes practically sparkled the moment they met mine.

…Which was honestly kind of scary.

What does he want with me? Did I do something wrong? Did I break some rule I didn’t even know about?

“Ah! No no, don’t worry, kid! You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, as if reading my anxious thoughts. “I just wanted to talk to you about something interesting, that’s all! So don’t worry! I’m Gild, by the way—you can call me ‘teacher’ or just ‘Gild,’ whichever you like!”

His tone was bouncy and full of energy.

“…Alright. I’ll go with ‘teacher.’”

He was a teacher, after all. Gotta show respect. At least in public.

“That’s perfectly fine! Respect is good—very important, in fact. Oh! Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

He suddenly fired that question at me.

“…No, I haven’t.”

“What?!”

His head whipped toward supervisor Shin, who stared blankly back at him.

“…What?”

“Don’t just hit me with a ‘what’ like that! You dragged the poor kid all the way up here without feeding him?! Don’t you know how much energy it takes to study and retain information?”

Instructor Gild looked genuinely offended.

“his last session was with Leonhart. If I remember right.”

“…Oh dear God. That’s even worse!”

Yeah, it really was. Felt more like torture than training.

The two of them kept exchanging jabs while I sat silently, watching what looked like two very close friends bantering like old war buddies. Eventually, Instructor Gild called over a waiter and ordered something for me.

---

So, supervisor Shin actually has friends, huh?

Can’t say I expected that. Making friends with him doesn’t exactly sound easy, if you ask me.

Slurping up the sauce-drenched noodles in my bowl while watching those two argue, it was like a little comedy skit. Even a few instructors nearby couldn’t help but crack a smile.

"Alright then, let’s begin. And I’ll apologize in advance if this brings back any unpleasant memories—but do you remember that explosion you caused in the forest?"

"...Yeah, I remember it."

Somehow, I had a feeling he’d bring that up.

Three days apparently weren’t enough for people to forget about it. Not that I could blame them—it probably wasn’t something that had ever happened before at the academy.

"Good. Now, how much do you remember exactly? Do you know what you were feeling when it happened?"

More questions.

And every time I answered one, he shot another right back at me.

Over the next half hour, I ended up recounting every detail I could remember to Instructor Gild, while supervisor Shin quietly listened in.

"Mhm… yeah, that explains a lot. But there’s still..."

With a somewhat satisfied expression, hand on his chin,Instructor Gild looked at me again—this time with a different request.

"Um, do you mind if I get a little closer and try something real quick? Don’t worry, it’s just a minor scan of sorts. Might help answer both your questions and mine about what happened to you."

"...Yes..I don't mind."

I hesitated for a second but nodded.

Instructor Gild immediately stood up, taking the seat beside me afte supervisor Shin made room. Then he pressed his index and middle fingers together, holding them just above my heart.

A faint orange circle began to glow where he pointed, and a series of thin lines extended from the perimeter of the circle, creating a kind of bridge of light connecting it to my chest.

“Ah—”

“Don’t worry, it won’t tickle.”

He was right. I didn’t feel anything. Just startled me a bit, which is probably why that weird noise came out of me.

I glanced over at supervisor Shin, who seemed to be watching the process with a genuine spark of interest.

The circle stayed active for several minutes, until Instructor Gild finally muttered under his breath:

“So that’s it… That’s what it was all along.”

The circle faded moments later, and Instructor Gild leaned back—only to surprise me with an unexpected grin.

“Wow. You’re actually kind of amazing!”

“Uh… thanks?”

I… didn’t really know how to respond to that.

“What did you find out, Gild?”

supervisor Shin’s tone had a bit of curiosity to it, or maybe I just imagined that. Either way, he asked.

Please… don’t look at me like that. I’ve been cooperating this whole time, haven’t asked a single thing, even let you poke me with weird magic circles. So just stop looking at me like I’m a walking puzzle

“As you can see,” Instructor Gild began, sounding oddly scholarly, “the explosion was simply the result of intense psychological stress. His seed, which doesn’t normally respond well to stress, ended up unleashing all that energy using the boy’s elemental affinity.”

He said it so casually, but I barely understood a word of it.

supervisor Shin, however, looked a little surprised—which told me it meant something.

“…You’re not misusing your words, right?”

“Not even a single one.”

“….”

Silence.

Why is it always like this? Someone please explain what just happened to me. I beg you.

It’s a terrible feeling, you know? Having people talk about you like you’re some mystery when you don’t even get the gist—whether they’re praising or insulting you, it’s still just… annoying.

“You didn’t understand that, did you?”

“Yeah... I’m from a pretty remote village, so I don’t know much about magic.”

For some reason, I found myself admitting that depressing truth.

“Ahh, so that’s why you didn’t freak out during the explanation. And here I thought you were hiding your abilities. Sorry for doubting you.”

Hiding what now?

Honestly, this conversation was going nowhere until someone explained it like I was the village idiot.

Thankfully, Instructor Gild seemed up to the task.

“Look, Shiro. Our world is full of all kinds of magic, right? Different elements, different techniques. But the question is—what’s the driving force behind magic?”

“…The seed?”

I answered with the little knowledge I had.

“Well, that’s both right and wrong. The seed is the source of the energy we use to perform supernatural feats. But it’s our will and desire that actually trigger the magic.”

“Our will…”

“For example,” he continued, “say you want to stir the wind. You move your hand in a certain way, and your seed activates your wind element accordingly. Get it?”

“Ah… yeah, now I see.”

Just like he said.

As long as you have the basic requirement for a skill, your will—or your desire—can activate it. That’s the hidden ingredient besides the core.

Still…

How did that lead to that kind of disaster?

“Now, following that logic—what do you think would happen if you were facing imminent death, and your strongest desire in that moment was to survive, no matter what?”

If I were on the verge of death…

Yeah, fear can shatter all reason.

It’s terrifying—and yet weirdly miraculous—how fear alone can create a spark that lets you survive the impossible.

Even I could see that.

So the answer was obvious.

“…You’d try to fulfill that desire no matter what.”

“Bingo! That’s exactly it. Your will would override everything else—even your own expectations. And if your emotions are rooted in pure, overwhelming fear, then anything can happen. So now… what do you think happened to you?”

“What happened to me…!”

Going back to what Instructor Gild said about the seed responding to will and desire… and then throwing fear into the mix—

Yeah, it all made perfect sense now.

Emotions and desire are the real fuel for action.

And if I got what Instructor Gild meant, the same applies to the seed—as long as the proper requirements are met.

So, if I had what it takes to create, say, a fireball, it could happen in one of two ways:

1. Learn how to cast it properly,

or

2. Get thrown into a life-or-death scenario where your core bypasses all limits to save your butt.

Just like what happened to me.

"So that means I have…"

“…the firepower to burn down a quarter of the forest along with everything in it.”

supervisor Shin finished my sentence, looking right at my confused and slightly horrified expression.

But how?

“How could I do something like that without even knowing the most basic spell or what element I have?”

That’s the question I’d been dying to ask.

But for some reason, when I looked at Instructor Gild, he turned to supervisor Shin first.

Like he was asking for permission to answer…

Or maybe the answer was so painfully obvious that it only made my ignorance more embarrassing.

God, I hope it’s the first one.

I waited, holding onto my last thread of patience.

“….”

supervisor Shin finally nodded and closed his eyes. Instructor Gild leaned toward me, motioning for me to bring my ear closer.

He’s whispering it?

Fine, no big deal.

I leaned in, and—

“You were able to do that… because you have three elements. One of them is fire.”

“…Thre—?!”

The moment I raised my head, ready to scream, Instructor Gild grabbed my ear and yanked me back down.

OW!!

“No! Don’t react like that! Trust me, you don’t want people knowing you’ve got multiple elements—especially that one.”

“…That one?—Oww my ear, wait!”

“Shhh. Quiet.”

And right then, just to rub salt in the wound, the school bell rang loud enough to blow out my eardrum.

DING—DONG—DING—

“…I told them to replace that bell…”

Instructor Gild sighed as the ringing died down.

Still holding my poor ear.

“Oh, right. Just remember this for now…”

Finally realizing he still had my ear in a death grip, he let go.

While I was busy rubbing it like a wounded animal, Instructor Gild pulled out a pen and paper from his pocket, scribbled something down, then handed it to me.

“Read it when you’re alone.”

Before I could even ask anything, supervisor Shin dismissed me.

And just like that, I was walking out of the cafeteria.

The fancy cafeteria where I only managed to eat a single plate of noodles.

---

“…That was kind of shocking, wasn’t it? These days, it’s rare to find someone with a combo like that.”

“Yeah…”

Elsewhere—

Inside what looked more like an office than a teacher’s lounge, Shin and Gild sat alone. Gild held a folder in his hands, filled with information about the first-year students, including their family backgrounds.

The topic?

The kid he’d just met a few hours ago—Shiro Leonard.

“…What did you give him?”

“Hm? Oh, just a few tips so he doesn’t blow stuff up again. And maybe how to use his elements without setting the forest on fire. But now that we’ve solved that mystery, there’s a new one bugging me.”

“How.”

“Exactly.”

Confirming Shin’s single word, Gild leaned back in his chair, let out a long sigh, and continued.

“How did he end up with that elemental combo? I mean, even among noble families, the odds are less than 5%. And he’s from a total countryside background—no record of any of his parents or ancestors ever having one of those elements.

It’s seriously strange. And really, really interesting.”

“….”

Shin said nothing.

He simply stared at his colleague—who, more than likely, would obsess over that mystery for a long time before giving up.

Because Gild would never find the answer.

Not while Shin already knew it.

Feeling just a bit guilty that he couldn’t help his friend, Shin turned his gaze to the ceiling—lost in scattered thoughts.