Oapa watched Myro retreat, his hooded face unreadable. Once the tension had fully dissipated, he turned back to Si-Woo. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his tone sincere. “My presence might bring unwanted attention to you. It’s... unavoidable sometimes.”

Si-Woo shook his head, brushing off the apology. “It’s not your fault,” he replied evenly, though he couldn’t help but feel the weight of the stares still lingering in their direction.

Lirin, who had gone back to idly doodling in her notebook, perked up at the exchange. “Is that what you and Ace were talking about earlier?” she asked casually, not looking up from her work.

Si-Woo glanced at her curiously. Ace? he thought. That must have been the fae who stopped Oapa before class.

Oapa gave a slight nod, confirming her suspicion. “Yes. Some students are still complaining about someone like me being on the student council,” he admitted, his tone steady but with a hint of weariness. “Or even being in the academy at all.”

Lirin’s hand paused mid-doodle. She adjusted her glasses and muttered under her breath, just loud enough for them to hear, “Maybe I should complain about having to share a classroom with these unpleasant specimens.”

Oapa gave a wry smile. “Not everyone can move up a grade as quickly as you did, Lirin,” he said with a hint of amusement.

Si-Woo blinked, turning to Lirin with surprise. “You moved up, too?”

Lirin adjusted her glasses, her indigo eyes glancing briefly at Si-Woo before returning to her notebook. “Yeah,” she said nonchalantly. “When I was a Level 3 senior, I scored a 96 on the midterm test and jumped straight to being a Level 4 senior.” She pushed a stray strand of her denim-blue hair behind her ear, her tone casual despite the impressive feat. “Since I’m 14 and haven’t awakened yet, I’ll be a Level 5 next year regardless.”

Si-Woo’s eyes widened. “Whoa, congratulations!” he said earnestly.

Lirin shrugged, though the corners of her lips quirked upward slightly.

“She is quite the genius,” Oapa added, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. “Especially when it comes to Bestiary and Fae History. Her work in those fields is nothing short of remarkable.”

Lirin tilted her head slightly, her cheeks faintly pink under the indirect praise. “It’s just research,” she muttered, though there was a glimmer of pride in her voice.

Si-Woo couldn’t help but smile at the dynamic between the two. This place might be tougher than the Young Academy, but at least I’m not alone here, he thought, his hand absently brushing Z’s tail again as the wyvern stirred lightly.

The sharp chime of a bell echoed through the academy halls, signaling the start of the next class. Oapa glanced toward the door, a trace of regret in his light green eyes. “I wish I could assist you more, Si-Woo, but I have other business to attend to,” he said, his tone apologetic.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Turning to Lirin, Oapa gestured slightly with his hand. “Since almost all the Level 4s have the same schedule, could you take over for me?”

Lirin leaned back in her chair, her indigo eyes glinting with mild irritation.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of reluctance. “But you owe me one.”

Oapa’s lips curved into a faint smile beneath his hood. “Always appreciated.” He gave a brief nod to Si-Woo before heading toward the door.

As Oapa exited, Lirin straightened her posture and held out her hand. “Let me see your schedule.”

Si-Woo passed her the sheet, and she scanned it quickly. Her expression remained neutral until she noticed something, her brow lifting slightly.

“Looks like we’ll be in almost all the same classes,” she said. “Convenient. The next one is History of Ondur. Follow me.”

Si-Woo fell into step behind her as they left the classroom, Z still perched on his head. As they walked through the academy’s brightly lit halls, Si-Woo couldn’t help but admire the intricate designs around him. The blend of modernistic architecture with fae artistry was mesmerizing, with flowing patterns etched into the walls and soft, shifting lights illuminating the corridors.

“This place is amazing,” he said aloud, his voice tinged with awe. “It’s so... beautiful.”

Lirin glanced at him and nodded in agreement. “It is,” she said, her tone softer than usual. “The academy feels... welcoming. To anyone... well, almost anyone.”

Si-Woo’s expression grew thoughtful. “Do all fae really hate sprits?” he asked, his voice quiet but curious.

Lirin’s steps slowed slightly, and she tilted her head as if considering how to answer. “It’s not always hate,” she began. “For some, it’s fear. Whether they’re higher or lesser sprits, most fae don’t understand them. And what people don’t understand, they tend to fear.”

Si-Woo furrowed his brow, sensing there was more to her explanation.

“But why? Is it just because of their bloodthirsty reputation?”

Lirin smirked faintly but shook her head. “It’s deeper than that. If you really dig into fae history—or sprits’ history—you start to notice... inconsistencies. Strange gaps that make you question if their so-called ‘nature’ is even natural at all.”

“What do you mean?” Si-Woo asked, intrigued.

Lirin adjusted her glasses, her tone growing more academic. “If you analyze the DNA and the absent genomes of lesser sprits on a timeline, you’ll find subtle differences among them over the centuries. But if you go back about a dozen millennia or more, you’ll see something... strange. A disruption. It’s like something triggered a drastic change in their environment, altering them on an anatomical level.”

Si-Woo’s eyes widened. “What kind of trigger?”

“That’s the big question,” Lirin said, her voice carrying a note of fascination. “What was the trigger, and why did it only affect sprits? If they’re so territorial and bloodthirsty, why are there higher sprits—beings capable of incredible intelligence and restraint? Their absent genomes should’ve made that kind of evolution impossible.”

She paused, her gaze distant as if piecing together her own thoughts. “And since fae and sprits’ histories are so intertwined, you have to wonder... how did this trigger affect Ondur itself? Who else knows about it? And what are they hiding?”

Si-Woo felt a chill run down his spine. The depth of Lirin’s knowledge and the implications of her words left him both awed and uneasy. “That’s... a lot to think about,” he admitted, his voice low.

“It is,” Lirin agreed, her indigo eyes glinting with determination. “But the more you question, the closer you get to the truth. And the truth... that’s always worth chasing.”

They continued down the hallway, the weight of their conversation lingering between them like an unspoken challenge.