Chapter 273 (Patreon)

Kana found herself, somewhat unwillingly, left in the company of the two guests from the Holy Kingdom.

Suri had already slipped away earlier, happily following Rin and Yuri with the kind of enthusiasm she reserved only for comfortable beds and familiar company. Boris and Adam had gone off in another direction as well, joining the rest of the boys from the Copper Class, their voices fading into the distance as they talked among themselves.

And just like that—

Kana was alone.

Alone with two people who were far too observant for her liking. The hallway outside the principal’s office felt unusually quiet, the air heavy with a kind of atmosphere that made even small sounds seem louder than they should have been.

Kana raised her hand and knocked gently on the wooden door.

“Come in,” came the raspy voice from within, dry yet firm, carrying the weight of authority that did not need to be raised to be felt.

Kana pushed the door open slowly.

The familiar office greeted her—lined with shelves filled with books, papers neatly stacked, and a faint scent of ink and old parchment lingering in the air. Behind the desk sat the man himself, the academy’s ever-watchful overseer.

Kana stepped forward and said,“Principal, they are—”

“Good morning, Principal Light, the Binder of Vow,” Joan said smoothly, stepping forward before Kana could finish, her voice composed and respectful as she bowed her head just enough to show courtesy without lowering herself too much. “We have heard much about your achievements. You are quite well-known even within the Holy Kingdom. My name is Joan Clark. My class is [Sacredknight].”

“I am Hen De Grey,” Hen followed immediately, placing a hand over his chest as he bowed his head. “My class is [Templar]. It is an honor to finally meet you in person.”

He’s popular? Kana had some doubts.

Principal Principal Light let out a soft laugh, the sound low and amused as he closed the book he had been reading and set it aside.

“It has been quite some time since my last visit to the Holy Kingdom,” he said, his tone casual, as though reminiscing about a distant memory that still lingered pleasantly in his mind.

“I heard from His Majesty that you came here to observe and learn from a certain individual,” he continued, leaning back slightly in his chair. “The one who defeated a top student from the Empire.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

“I didn’t expect you would meet her so soon.”

Joan hesitated, just for a fraction of a second.

“We only found out earlier today,” she admitted, her voice carrying a trace of uncertainty that had not been there before.

Principal Light chuckled again.

“I know,” he said simply.

Then his gaze moved until it settled on Kana. For a moment, the room seemed to grow colder.

“She’s quite good at hiding things,” he added, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as though he were peering past what was visible and into something deeper, something carefully concealed beneath layers of silence and restraint.

Kana felt it immediately.

A chill ran down her spine. Her body reacted before her thoughts could catch up, goosebumps rising along her arms as an uncomfortable memory surfaced without warning.

Her first-year assessment. The intentional failure. The careful act.

The way she, Suri, and Boris had intentionally held themselves back just to be placed in the lowest class.

It was perfect. Or at least—

She had believed it was.

“Have a seat,” Principal Light said, gesturing lightly toward the chairs in front of his desk.

Kana swallowed quietly and obeyed, though the uneasy feeling in her chest refused to fade.

“Kana,” he said after a moment, his tone shifting slightly, “thank you for bringing our guests here.”

“You may leave them to me.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added with a faint chuckle, “It seems you’ll have quite a lot to report regarding your class’s progress this year.”

Kana froze. The chill returned stronger than before, creeping up her spine and settling heavily at the back of her neck.

She stood up a bit too quickly.

“Yes, Principal,” she said, her voice steady—perhaps a little too steady.

Without waiting any longer, she turned and walked toward the door.

Then faster.

Then just a little faster than that.

The moment she stepped out into the hallway, she pulled the door shut behind her and wrapped her arms around herself instinctively, as though trying to hold in the cold that had suddenly seeped into her bones.

Did the principal… already know?

Kana exhaled slowly, though the unease refused to leave.

Did he realize… that my class has already evolved? I can’t tell what’s on his mind.

Kana lingered just beyond the closed door for a fraction of a heartbeat longer than she reasonably should have, her back pressed lightly against the cool, unyielding wood as though she could anchor herself to something solid before the moment slipped too far away from her control.

From within the office, muted voices resumed their careful exchange. It was the kind of conversation where meaning hid beneath meaning, where tone mattered just as much as content, and where a single misplaced word could unravel more than intended.

Kana pushed herself gently away from the door.

He knows.

Then she looked down, noticing the curved sword of the empire hanging on her hips.

Kana spotted the bulletin board before she reached it, but getting close enough to actually read anything was another matter entirely.

A thick crowd had already gathered in front of it, students packed shoulder to shoulder, shifting and leaning, trying to catch even a glimpse of the notice. The air around them buzzed with low conversation, the kind that never quite became loud but never settled either.

“…all students?”

“…fourth years too?”

“…that can’t be right…”

Kana didn’t bother pushing through. She didn’t need to. The mood alone was enough.

Most of them weren’t just confused—they were unsettled.

That was new.

Every year, the assessment was simple. Predictable. Something meant for first years to prove they belonged but not this time. Kana crossed her arms loosely, her fingers tucking into her sleeves as the thought settled in, quiet but persistent.

“…Probably our fault,” she muttered.

She didn’t say it loudly.  Her gaze lingered on the crowd for a second longer before she turned away. No point digging for scraps of information when she already knew who would have the full plate. Rin and Yuri.

Kana had barely taken a few steps when something flickered in front of her.

She stopped. Another flicker—this one clearer. A thin, shadow-like shape stretched briefly along the ground, then shifted, pointing ahead before dissolving like it had never been there.

Kana let out a small breath.

“Suri.”

Of course it was.

The shadow appeared again a few paces ahead, almost impatient this time. Kana followed without argument. As she walked, she could almost hear Suri’s voice—fast, nonstop, probably circling around the same topic over and over again.

Hen.

Kana closed her eyes for a moment,“She’s still talking about him, isn’t she?”

Kana kept walking. The noise of the academy faded the farther she went, replaced by quieter paths and passing students who greeted her with simple nods and small smiles. After a few turns, the scenery began to change. The clean, structured feel of the academy softened as the path stretched toward the central district.

Then she saw it.

Kana slowed, taking it in.

No roof.

That was the first thing that stood out. Just open sky above, framed by carefully placed trees that cast soft, shifting shadows across the tiled ground. Flowers lined the paths, bright but not overwhelming, and round tables were scattered in a way that somehow made the place feel both open and private at the same time.

People sat and talked like they had nowhere else to be. Like the world outside didn’t matter for a while.

Kana tilted her head slightly,”That’s new.”

Then she spotted them. Rin, Yuri, and Suri were already seated, watching her like they’d been waiting. They waved.

Kana walked over and took a seat.

“What is this place?” she asked, glancing around again.

The three of them exchanged a look—and then giggled.

Rin leaned forward, eyes bright,“The ambiance is good, right?”

Kana gave a small nod.

“It is.”

Rin straightened immediately, pride practically glowing off her. “My father made this.”

Yuri sighed under her breath. “Here we go again.”

Rin ignored her.

“My mom and I love fruity drinks,” she started, already in full storytelling mode. “So one day, I brought some home, and we were just relaxing, enjoying it—but then there was work nearby. Loud, nonstop. Completely ruined the mood.”

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was sharing something important.

“My dad heard her complain. She said she wanted a peaceful place to enjoy her drink.”

Rin spread her arms.

“So he built this.”

Kana looked around again, this time more thoughtfully,“It’ll make money,” she said simply.

Then she glanced up,”What about rain?”

Rin grinned,“[Mage]. Stone variants. They can put up a barrier over the whole place in seconds. Take it down just as fast.”

Kana nodded slowly,"Quite convenient.”

Something about it felt familiar, like she’d seen the idea somewhere before—but the thought slipped away before she could catch it. She didn’t chase it.

Instead, she leaned back slightly,“What about the assessments?”

Yuri’s expression changed first,“They will start tomorrow. First years go first. Then us the next day.”

Yuri continued.“They’re changing things. Supposedly to stop students from hiding their real abilities.”

“Heard they’re summoning monsters,” Yuri added. “Individual testing.”

“And that’s not even everything.”

Suri finally spoke, turning toward her with a look that was just a little too direct, “I’m not saying it’s your fault,” she said.

“Then,” Kana said calmly. “If hiding doesn’t work anymore, we stop hiding. There’s no real benefit in copper class now but we need all to make it in the Mithril class. There’s less work there from what I remembered in the announcement..”

…

Kana and Suri returned to their dorm in the early afternoon with the same quiet, unspoken agreement between them—they would rest early, recover what little energy the day had drained, and prepare themselves for whatever awaited tomorrow.

Suri reached the door first and pushed it open without hesitation.

The moment it creaked inward, a dry gust of wind rushed out to meet them, carrying with it a swirl of dust that danced in the sunlight like something alive. Kana instinctively narrowed her eyes as the air shifted around her, the faint scent of neglect settling in almost immediately.

Their room was not as they had left it.

A thin layer of dust coated nearly every surface, muting the familiar shapes of their belongings beneath a dull, powdery film. Spider webs stretched across the upper corners of the walls, their presence enough to tell how long the space had been left unattended. Kana’s gaze moved quickly—and found it almost immediately.

The window. Slightly open. Just enough to let time and wind do their work.

“That explains it,” she said under her breath.

Suri stepped inside, then stopped just as quickly, her expression flattening as she took in the state of the room. “I don’t think we can sleep early tonight,” she said, her tone carrying more disappointment than surprise.

Kana gave a small nod, already moving past her. “No,” she replied simply.

They both knew what came next. Kana crossed the room and began pulling out their cleaning supplies, moving with the kind of familiarity that came from doing this more times than she cared to count. Old rugged clothes. Bucket. Water. Whatever they had would be enough. Suri followed soon after, though with less enthusiasm and a few more sighs than necessary.

Time passed without either of them noticing.

….

The next morning arrived.

Kana woke feeling lighter than she had the day before, the kind of rest that didn’t just restore energy—but sharpened her thoughts. Suri was already awake, which was unusual enough to stand out immediately.

“We’re going,” Suri said.

Kana didn’t ask where.

She already knew.

The first-year assessment. If they couldn’t gather information directly, then observing from a distance would have to be enough.

So they went.

And found themselves standing at the edge of something far larger than they expected. The gates were packed. Not just with students—but with people. Too many people.

Nobles stood among them, their presence unmistakable even without introduction. Others lingered at the edges—outsiders, likely hired or sent to observe, they were focused. The crowd pressed forward in slow waves, each person trying to get closer, to see more, to understand before anyone else did.

They all had the same idea. Learn early. Use it later.

“We’re not going to get in,” Kana said after a moment.

Suri studied the crowd a little longer before nodding. “Yes. Not worth it.”

Kana tilted her head slightly, watching the restless movement at the gates, the tension, the anticipation. Then she said, almost absently, “Not knowing the exam… is part of the fun.”

Suri glanced at her, then let out a small breath that might have been a laugh. “Yeah.”

She turned, already stepping away from the crowd. “So,” she added, her tone shifting back to something lighter, “should we go hang out at Rin’s new father’s place instead?”

Post note:

This year’s exam theme: Anti-acting.Kana was too aware that she was not aware of herself(carrying a sword)? 😂Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂

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