The room was quiet, lined with towering shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, each filled with ancient tomes. Nero sat on a worn, leather armchair near the center, a book open in hands, its yellowed pages illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp.

A knock echoed through the room, and Nero glanced up just as the door creaked open. Winraus stepped inside, his gaze drifting toward the shelves that surrounded them.

“I stopped by your office, but you weren't there,” Winraus said. “Figured you'd be here.” His gaze lingered on the countless books that filled the room—volumes that could only be read by the Headmaster Nero himself.

“I needed to confirm something,” Nero replied. He placed the book back on the shelf, his fingers brushing the spines of the nearby volumes. “Certain moments needs to be looked back, especially when you've lived as long as I have.” He turned to face him. “What brings you here?”

Winraus snapped out his thoughts. “I wanted to request a collaboration between the Practical Division and Special Division. It's been a while since your students were away in the academy, especially after their dispatch to the mortal world.”

Nero crossed his arms. “Given the recent movements of the Nether Clan, additional training would be prudent.” He nodded after the moment. “I approve of it.”

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Winraus said, a note of relief in his voice.

As Winraus turned to leave, Nero spoke again. “By the way… I believe my magic is starting to return.”

Winraus froze mid-step, his head snapping back to Nero. “It's returning?” he repeated, surprised and an excitement flickering across his face. “That's incredible news! Congratulations, Headmaster. It's been a long time since your magic was sealed.”

Nero nodded. “Yes… nearly ten years.”

Nero offered a small smile, but his mind was elsewhere. His magic had been sealed for a reason—a deliberate act to reset a broken timeline. It had been the only way to prevent deaths of those crucial to the fight against the Nether clan. The cost had been steep, but necessary.

That timeline…that was a disaster.

Lives lost, hope extinguished, and the world teetering on the brink of collapse. He made sure to rewrite the history, steering this one in a better direction.

And yet…

He's back, isn't he?

Nero let out a quiet sigh, his fingers brushing the spines of the books as though grounding himself in the present.

Winraus tilted his head slightly. “Headmaster?”

Nero straightened, his composure returning. “Nothing. Just reflecting. Thank you for bringing the request to my attention. I'll inform my students about the collaboration.”

Winraus gave a small bow and left, leaving Nero alone once again.

Alone again, Nero's gaze swept over the shelves and until it stopped on a particular worn book tucked at the furthest edge. Its leather binding was cracked and faded.

“Nero, watch over this kingdom against...”

The words were heavy with purpose, laced with a sense of urgency that hadn't faded with time. They carried the unmistakable authority of someone he had once stood beside, someone whose will be shared the very foundation of the kingdom.

Nero closed his eyes, the weight of the memory settling over him. “Huh,” he muttered under his breath, a faint, wry smile tugging at his lips. “Quite the task you left me with, Hadrian.”

“Still, I suppose I haven't done too bad,” he murmured to himself. “Your kingdom still stands.”

＊＊＊

Kenneth was at his first lesson with Edmund on Fireon bloodline spells. Unlike their previous encounter, where Edmund's demeanor was relaxed, he now seemed noticeably more serious.

“The last time we met, there was a lot going on, so I didn't get the chance to properly introduce myself.” Edmund began. “I'm the late Fire Guardian's brother, Edmund Fireon. But since you've been adopted into the family, you can call me Uncle.”

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Kenneth hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yes… Uncle Edmund.”

Edmund smirked, satisfied. “Good. Now, let's get started. Currently, there are three core bloodline spells in the Fireon family.”

Kenneth listened intently as Edmund continued. “The one you saw last time is for defense: Internal Quadrant. It's a wall of fire that can act as both a shield and a trap.” Edmund straightened and recited the incantation with precision.

“Ignis surgat et murus flammis saeviat invictus.”

“The spell means, ‘Let fire rise, and let the unyielding wall of flames rage.’ Try saying it yourself.”

This will be the first time he'd attempted a spell using spoken lines—something the bloodline spell required but felt foreign to him. He took a deep breath, repeating the words careful, syllable by syllable.

“Ignis surgat et murus flammis saeviat invictus.”

As the words left his lips, he felt a faint disconnect, as though the magic wasn't waiting for the command of incantation. Instead it pulsed within him, as if it didn't need the words at all. Why does it feel like the magic is already moving, even before I say anything? he thought.

Edmund nodded approvingly. “Good. Your pronunciation is spot-on. Now, the key is to create a mental image of four walls of fire surrounding you. Close your eyes and picture it.”

Kenneth closed his eyes, focusing on the image. Four walls, rising sharply.... unyielding and protective. As he concentrated, he felt the magic stirring again. This time, it was clearer—an instinctive, almost effortless flow. The flames seemed to form in his mind before he even gave a conscious command.

“Wait… wait… Kenneth!” Edmund's alarmed voice broke through his concentration.

Kenneth's eyes snapped open, and he was greeted by the sight of a blazing wall of fire standing tall between him and Edmund. Edmund's expression was one of wide-eyed surprise.

"I... I didn't even say the spell," he stammered.

Edmund blinked, then burst into hearty laughter. “You didn't even say the spell? And still managed to cast it perfectly? That's incredible!”

Kenneth rubbed back his neck. “I just... pictured it really clearly?”

He clutched his sides as his laughter echoed in the training room. “Even my older brother, the Fire Guardian himself, had to speak the incantation for it to work. You must have a natural gift for analyzing and breaking down spells—and a strong imagination to match.”

Kenneth shifted uncomfortably under the unexpected praise. "I didn't think it'd actually work without the incantation."

"Well, it did," Edmund said with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Honestly, you're something else. At this rate, I might not even need to teach you much."

Edmund then clapped his hands together, the grin never leaving his face. "Alright, not time to waste. Let's move on to the next spell. I want to see what else you can pull off without breaking a sweat."

＊＊＊

Few weeks later...

Kenneth sat at his desk, staring out the window as his thoughts churned. Over the past weeks, his lessons with Edmund had been intense but rewarding. To his surprise, he had managed to cast Fireon's bloodline spells without much difficulty.

But that was the strange part. If my magic isn't Fireon's, then why can I use their bloodline spells so easily? He tapped his fingers on the desk, his brows furrowed.

Fireon's magic was tied to their lineage. Without that connection, casting their spells should have been harder, if not impossible?

A new thought struck him. If mine and Fireon's are different, does that mean I might have my own bloodline spells? A mix of intrigued and unease settled over him. What would his spells even look like? He had no lineage or history to guide him—no one to explain what his magic was supposed to be.

Kenneth sighed, leaning back in his chair. Edmund might know if it was possible to discover his own spells—or even how to begin.

Then his mind turned to the blue flames. Could they be part of the answer? He remembered the First King's words: “Only you could wield it.” The memory lingered, raising more questions.

If the flames were unique to him, they might be the key to unlocking his own.

“Kenneth? Kenneth?”

Aine's voice cut through his thoughts. He blinked and looked up to see her standing beside his desk, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Are you okay? You've been quiet lately,” Aine asked, leaning closer. “Wait—are the side effects from the potion? You're not feeling weird, aren't you?”

Kenneth shook his head quickly, offering her a reassuring smile. “No, I'm fine. I've just been busy learning bloodline spells these past few days.”

Aine relaxed slightly but crossed her arms. “No wonder we haven't seen you around much. Just… don't push yourself too hard, okay?”

Kenneth's smile softened. “Thanks, Aine.”

Before they could continue, the door opened, and Headmaster Nero stepped into the room. The usual chatter died down as his commanding presence filled the space.

“Before the class began,” Nero stated, his gaze sweeping over them, “Professor Winraus has requested that you join the Practical Division for a collaboration next week. This will be a practical exercise and will serves as your term-end evaluation”

Nero’s eyes landed on Kenneth and Lucian. “This will be a valuable opportunity for both of you. Consider it as a chance to hone your skills.”

Kenneth straightened slightly at the comment, while Lucian gave a small nod, his expression unreadable.

“It’s been forever since we had a practice match outside our class!” Ash said with a grin, his excitement spilling over as he leaned back in his chair.

Kenneth leaned forward and tapped Rika, who sat in front of him. “Do you usually collaborate with the Practical Division?”

Rika turned in her seat, nodding. “Yeah, we do and it’s always interesting. You should look forward to it.”

Kenneth sat back, feeling a flicker of anticipation. A collaboration with the Practical Division… maybe this will give me a chance to test everything I've learned.