Our steps splashed through shallow puddles on the cobblestone streets. The rain had eased slightly, but it was far from over. A cold, damp breeze lingered in the air, adding to the chill. Most market stalls were closed, though a few hardy vendors braved the weather under makeshift cloth canopies. I couldn’t help but muse over the absence of umbrellas in this world. If I “invented” one, I could probably rake in some gold.

A soft hum broke my thoughts as Mox raised her hands slightly, a golden barrier shimmering to life above our heads. Droplets of rain hissed and evaporated as they hit the dome, leaving us dry. Her concentration never wavered as we walked, though the barrier's glow pulsed faintly, revealing the effort it demanded.

“Heading to the academy?” she asked, breaking the silence. Her gaze flicked to the bundle in my arms. “What’s with the armor and clothes?”

“Yeah,” I replied, adjusting the wet fabric clinging to me. “I was going to drop these off at my room first, but it’s a bit late for that.”

“We’ve got forty minutes before class,” she offered. “We can still swing by the boys’ dormitory.”

“Then let’s do that,” I said. “And, uh, thanks for the barrier.”

“It’s draining my mana pretty fast,” she admitted, her voice steady but edged with fatigue. “Can you cast a barrier if I need a break?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I can manage an ice barrier. If that’s a thing.”

“That works, but it’ll be… cold,” she said, her tone teasing but thoughtful. “If you can cast an ice barrier, other basic ones shouldn’t be much harder.”

I shrugged. “Guess I’m just not great at spellcasting.”

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah,” she said, her tone sharp enough to sting. “I guess so.”

The suspicion in her voice wasn’t lost on me, but I pretended not to notice, keeping my expression neutral. It was better this way—let her think whatever she wanted. I had no interest in explaining myself.

We walked in silence for a few minutes, the looming boys’ dormitory coming into view. Its towering structure was impossible to miss, even in the rain-soaked gloom.

“There’s my stop,” I said, slowing my pace. “No need to wait.”

“It’s fine,” she replied, shrugging. “I’ll head to the girls’ dormitory anyway. Forgot my book. See you in two?”

“Hmm.”

She nodded, turning down the street toward her dormitory. The golden barrier dissolved the moment she stepped away, leaving me exposed to the drizzle once more. I hunched my shoulders and picked up my pace, eager to escape the rain. By the time I reached the dormitory door, I practically crashed into it, shoving it open with my shoulder.

Inside, the scent of freshly baked bread and coffee wafted through the air. Students sat scattered at tables, eating breakfast and chatting in low voices. I ignored them, heading straight for the stairs and climbing to my room.

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Once inside, I dumped my soaked armor and clothes in the corner and exhaled a long, weary sigh. This life—this struggle to survive in a world so alien—was wearing me down. Cannibals, bandits, a self-absorbed Queen... It was just… all too much.

“Come on, Ax,” I muttered to myself, my voice barely above a whisper. “Push through.”

I closed the door behind me and trudged back down the stairs. Halfway down, I spotted Liam descending from the upper floor. His sharp, serious eyes met mine, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

I returned the nod silently, brushing past him to the first floor. The counter was busy, with students lining up for breakfast. Plates of bread, butter, eggs, and cheese accompanied by glasses of orange juice were being served. My stomach growled faintly, but I pushed the thought aside. Mox was waiting.

“Axel,” Liam called from behind me, his voice calm but curious. “Not eating?”

“I already ate,” I replied without stopping.

“Right,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “Good morning, by the way.”

I gestured to the window, where the rain continued to streak down the glass. “Not much of a morning, huh? Can’t even see the sun.”

He glanced at the window and gave a small shrug. “It’s always rainy in Kinowa.”

“Hmm. Anyway, I gotta go. See you later.” I said, pushing open the door and stepping back into the damp streets.

“See you,” he replied, his attention already shifting toward the breakfast line.

Stepping out of the dormitory, I was greeted by Mox waiting just a few steps ahead, her wings twitching faintly as droplets rolled off their edges. Her golden barrier hummed softly, shielding her from the rain. Without a word, I moved toward her, stepping back into the protective sphere. The rhythmic patter of rain softened within its confines.

The streets were beginning to stir as students poured out of their dormitories, trudging through the damp morning toward the academy. Besides them, the only other souls braving the downpour were shopkeepers huddled under their stall awnings and a few homeless people curled in dry corners. This weather was for the desperate—or the late.

“Ready to go?” Mox asked, glancing at me.

I nodded. “Hmm. Thanks for waiting.”

“No problem,” she said with a shrug. Then her eyes flicked toward her outstretched hands, the barrier flickering faintly. “Hey, think you can take over with the barrier spell? I’m running on fumes here.”

I hesitated, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh… sure. How exactly do I do that?”

“You don’t know how?” She shot me a skeptical look. “You said you could cast an ice barrier.”

“I mean… it’s complicated,” I muttered. “I can cast it… probably.”

“Complicated?” Her wings gave an impatient twitch. “It’s a basic spell. Just focus your mana and visualize it. It’s not that hard.”

I sighed, coming to a halt. “Alright, let me give it a shot.”

Closing my eyes, I exhaled deeply, trying to focus. I extended my hand forward, fingers slightly spread. At first, there was nothing—just the chill of the rain-soaked air. But as I concentrated, a faint spark flared to life within me. It wasn’t something tangible, more like an instinct, a whisper that guided me. The spark grew, fanning into a steady warmth as mana coursed through me.

A moment later, a shimmering blue barrier formed around us, its surface rippling like frozen glass. Rain hissed and evaporated as it hit the shield. Just as Mox had warned, a biting cold emanated from it, but it wasn’t unbearable—just enough to make me shiver slightly.

“Not bad,” she said, lowering her hands and letting her barrier dissolve. “Didn’t think you’d pull it off.”

“Me neither,” I admitted, my tone as flat as ever. “Shall we?”

“Let’s.” She grinned faintly, already moving forward.