"Are you sure that's Reo?" Tyrus asked.

Grant glanced over his shoulder and said, "Your eyes do not deceive you. Reo is unwell at the moment because of my father's classes, so I am carrying him for now."

"I know Instructor Geroth's training is tough, but I didn't think he'd actually break someone. Reo, are you even alive?"

Reaching out, Tyrus gave Reo a firm poke to the cheek. A weak groan, then indistinct mumbling, was all the response given. Tyrus leaned in, catching fragments of what sounded like a fevered rant.

"No more... parry drills... s-six hours... demons don't train this much..."

Tyrus frowned, exchanging a glance with Grant. "Um... Are you sure Reo is okay? I think he needs a healer."

Grant shook his head, saying, "A proper rest will heal his battered body. He will feel good as new tomorrow. This is not the first time Reo has been worked to the bone by my father. You see, our fathers are quite close and have served under the previous rulers' army. Likewise, Reo and I frequently crossed paths and soon became friends."

"You two have known each other forever, huh?" Tyrus asked.

"Correct. We were practically inseparable. Due to this, Reo had to join my father and me in our knight training sessions. My father took Reo under his wing, thinking that by undergoing the same training, he could also become a skilled swordsman in the future.

Tyrus glanced at Reo, who remained limp on Grant's back, eyes barely open. "I'm not so sure that plan is working."

Grant sighed. "He has potential, but he lacks discipline. When we were younger, he often tried to avoid training by sneaking off or feigning sickness. My father, however, was never fooled."

Reo let out a pitiful groan. "That old man is a demon in disguise..." His voice trailed off, and his head flopped back against Grant's shoulder.

It was at that moment when Fiona arrived just in time to catch the last part. She approached the group with a smile, jogging towards them. The spectacles she had worn previously were missing, and she wasn't dressed in the academy uniform. Instead, she wore a short red skirt and cloak paired with black trousers tucked into shin-high boots. A simple leather belt was wrapped around her waist, and she had on a red undershirt.

"You guys seem to be having fun," Fiona said, walking by Reo without sparing him a single glance and giving Tyrus a quick hug. "How've you been, Tyrus? Doing well in your studies? Anyone causing you any trouble? Say the word and I'll seek them out and burn every strand of hair on their body."

Tyrus blinked. "Everything is going well. Most of my classes are pretty easy, but one of them requires a lot of reading and memorizing, so it's taken more attention than the others."

"Good! Don't slack off or else you'll lose your silver-pin. Let me tell you something. Demoting from Lavarun Hall to Teit Hall or even Barachus Hall is night and day." She patted him on the back, and his cheeks grew warm at the familiar touch. "Anyway, aren't we missing someone? Where is that annoying brother of mine?"

Not even two seconds had passed before Headmaster Freschlain emerged from the main building's door alongside Igneal. Everyone noticed him right away; his long robes flowed as he walked. His gaze swept over the group, lingering briefly on Reo's lifeless form draped over Grant's back before shifting to Fiona, who stood with her hands on her hips.

"Good evening, students. Tonight is a beautiful night, is it not?"

Fiona gave the headmaster a curt bow. "Good evening indeed, Headmaster Freschlain. It is certainly a pleasant night for a little adventure. Has permission to leave the grounds been accepted?"

"You know, I was astonished to hear that a few students in this academy have actually become members of the Explorer Guild," said the headmaster. "What exactly would drive you all to pursue such a dangerous path while still attending the academy?"

Fiona crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Why wouldn't I? The higher my rank, the better the rewards, the greater the respect. That's how it works, right?"

"A fair answer, though I suspect there is more to it than simply climbing the ranks," the headmaster mused, stroking his beard. "After all, respect can be earned in many ways. Why the Explorer Guild specifically?"

Grant, standing beside her, glanced at Fiona before turning back to the headmaster. "If I may speak honestly, Fiona was always going to join. She was determined, and there was no talking her out of it. I simply didn't want her going at it alone. She's reckless, and if no one was there to watch her back, she would've ended up in trouble sooner or later."

Fiona shot him a look, but he ignored it.

"Ah, so loyalty and concern for a friend led you down this path," Headmaster Freschlain observed. "A noble reason, but also a burdensome one. A man who shoulders the safety of others must be prepared for the weight it carries. And what of Reo?"

"Reo had no intention of joining, but Fiona didn't give him much of a choice," Grant said.

"I did not force him!" Fiona protested.

"You didn't, but you made it impossible for him to say no. You pestered him for months, kept telling him how good he'd be at it, how he was wasting his skills otherwise. Eventually, he caved just to get you to stop."

Fiona stuck out her tongue, which felicitated a quiet laugh from the headmaster. ""Ah, persuasion through persistence—an art form in its own right. And does he regret it now?"

Reo's weak groan answered that question for him. The headmaster smiled knowingly.

"You see, I ask you these questions because you are the second group of students in the academy's history that have become explorers during your tenure. Students usually divert their focus into their studies, worried about their academic standing, future prospects, or personal research."

Fiona squinted at the old man. "So, what are you saying, headmaster? That we're reckless?"

"No, Lady Fiona. I say that you are unusual. Ambition is not uncommon, but few dare to divide their efforts in such a manner. Most see the academy as their sole path to prestige. Is it wrong for I to be worried for my students that may potentially accept contracts that could put their lives at risk?"

Fiona's lips curled into a smirk, though her eyes carried a flicker of challenge. "We can handle it. We've only been explorers for at least five months and have already completed contracts far beyond our current rank. Blue Dawn can take care of itself, and we're only getting stronger."

The headmaster hummed in thought before turning his gaze back to the group. "You each have your own reasons, your own ambitions. Some noble, some reckless. But all paths come with hardship. I will not deny you the right to walk this road—but I hope you are prepared for what lies ahead."

He gestured toward the teleportation gate. "Your request has been approved. You are permitted to leave the academy grounds for the duration you requested. However, I expect you to return before the next academic week begins. Any delays or reckless actions will not be tolerated. Understood?"

"Understood," Fiona said, and the others nodded in agreement.

The headmaster smiled as he led them up the steps and entered the platform of where the gate was propped on. He then reached into his robes and pulled out a small crystal that seemed to glow. Pressing it onto the teleportation gate, the crystal pulsed, sending a ripple of energy across the gate's frame. The runes carved into the stone lit up one by one, forming intricate patterns of glowing symbols. With a last surge of magic, the space within the gate shimmered, distorting like the surface of a pond before solidifying into a swirling vortex of white light.

"This gate will lead to the teleportation gate within the Grand Tower. After stepping through, someone inside the tower will lead you out and from there, you are free to go where you wish. Please be mindful of your actions and stay safe."

With that, he stepped aside, allowing them passage. Fiona entered first, her confident stride showing no hint of nervousness. Grant stepped in second with the slumped Reo, careful to make sure Reo's head didn't collide with anything as he carried him through the gate. Igneal entered third, and Tyrus was about to follow him until the headmaster tapped in on the shoulder.

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"How have you been faring in the academy, Tyrus?" the headmaster said.

Tyrus turned to face him, slightly surprised by the question. "I've been doing fine," he said, tilting his head. "Why do you ask?"

"You are a Demi-human. That alone makes your experience different from your peers. While the academy is meant to be a place of learning and growth, prejudice does not vanish overnight. Have you faced any difficulties?"

Tyrus understood what the headmaster was implying. He had been aware from the start that his presence in the academy would stir mixed reactions. While some students didn't seem to care, others had made their distaste known, whether through whispered words, dismissive glances, or outright avoidance.

"It's not as bad as you think," Tyrus said after a beat. "Not everyone hates me, and not everyone gives me trouble. Some ignore me, some are fine with me being there. A few act like they want me gone, but they try nothing beyond words. I can handle it."

The headmaster nodded, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. "That is good to hear. But I will offer you this, Tyrus: do not let resentment take root in your heart."

Tyrus frowned slightly, but Freschlain continued before he could respond.

"Many who look down on you do so not because they truly understand why they dislike you, but because they were taught to. Fear and ignorance are often inherited, passed down without question. It is easier to reject what is different than to challenge what one has always known."

"I'm not supposed to hold it against them?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

The headmaster's expression was inscrutable as he said, "The choice is yours. However, carrying hatred is a burden. Some will always fear what is different, while others will see beyond it. Don't allow the fearful to shape your view of the world."

Tyrus let those words sink in. They weren't easy to accept, but they weren't easy to dismiss, either.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Freschlain smiled. "That is all I ask."

Stepping back, he gave Tyrus room to advance. Tyrus turned toward the gate, watching the swirling vortex of light for a moment before stepping through. His stomach churned from the weightless feeling, and in the blink of an eye, he was in the Grand Tower.

The rest of Blue Dawn was already being led out of the tower by a man, so Tyrus quickly rejoined them as soon as the portal deactivated. The man leading them—a middle-aged attendant—barely spared Tyrus a glance as he caught up with the group.

"This way," the attendant said, his voice clipped and efficient. "The tower's front gate will take you directly into the city."

As they followed him through the hall, Fiona leaned in slightly toward Tyrus. "What took you so long? Got cold feet?"

"Not exactly," Tyrus muttered. "The headmaster just had a few words for me before I left."

She raised a brow but didn't press. Instead, she smirked. "Well, whatever it was, hope it didn't ruin your mood. We've got an exciting few days ahead of us."

They passed through the tower's front entrance and stepped into the plaza enclosed by the Grand Tower walls. The attendant led them past the statues and to the front gate that was already open.

"Please return here by the designated time," he said as they filed out. With that, he turned and walked back into the building, its silver doors shutting with a resounding bang.

Fiona rolled her shoulders, glancing up at the dark sky. "Well, that took longer than I thought. Guess we'll have to wait until morning to visit the Explorer's Guild."

Grant nodded, shifting Reo's weight onto his back. "It is late. I will take Reo home so that he may recover."

"Do you need a hand?" Fiona asked.

"I appreciate the offer, but I can manage."

Reo let out a faint groan, his head rolling against Grant's shoulder. "No more… parry drills," he mumbled again.

Fiona snorted. "Yeah, you'll be fine."

Grant adjusted his grip to make sure Reo didn't slip. "I'll meet you all at the guild tomorrow morning."

With that, he turned down a quieter street, disappearing into the residential district with Reo slumped over his back.

Fiona turned to Tyrus and said, "What about you? Where are you staying tonight?"

Tyrus hesitated. "I was just going to find an inn."

"That's dumb. Just come with us."

"Are you sure?" Tyrus asked. "I don't want to intrude—"

"You're not intruding," she cut in. "Aunt Selena won't care, and I'd rather you not waste money on some second-rate inn when you can just stay with us. Besides, Igneal and I are heading there, anyway."

Igneal, who had been only half-paying attention, shrugged. Tyrus glanced at them before nodding. "Alright, fine. If it's really not a problem, I'll come with you."

Fiona smirked. "Good choice. Let's go. It's been months since I last slept in a proper bed, and I'm not wasting any more time standing around. We have a long walk ahead of us since finding a carriage this late will be a hassle."

Tyrus glanced around. The main roads were quieter than during the night, but there were still crowds moving between shops and taverns. A couple of carriages were placed along the streets, but most were empty or missing a few wheels.

"That's fine," he said. "Walking doesn't bother me."

Igneal gave them a look as if he were looking at two children. "Are you two insane? I am not walking to the manor."

"How else are we getting there?" Fiona snapped. "Do you have a spare carriage hidden around here?"

"No, but I'm not about to waste my energy walking halfway across the city when there are other options."

Igneal turned on his heel, heading toward one of the carriages planted by the street. One of them had a driver that had just finished securing the harness on his horses, looking ready to leave for the night. He was a wiry man, middle-aged, with calloused hands and a tired expression. As Igneal approached, the driver barely spared him a glance before pulling himself onto the driver's seat.

"We need a ride," Igneal said.

The driver scoffed, shaking his head. "Not interested. I don't take passengers who look like they can't pay."

"Excuse you?"

"You don't exactly look like nobles to me. And I'm not wasting my time carting a bunch of brats who'll claim they 'forgot their coin' when we get there."

Igneal narrowed his eyes. "You dare question my ability to pay?"

The driver exhaled, leaning back lazily. "Look, kid, I'm not looking for trouble. Find another carriage or walk. I'm done for the night."

Igneal's nostrils flared, but instead of snapping, he reached into his uniform and pulled out a necklace with a red coin. Engraved on the front was an orange flame, the insignia of the Lockhart. The driver's face went pale. His posture stiffened instantly, eyes flicking between the ring and Igneal's face.

"You… You're a Lockhart?"

"Yes," Igneal said coldly, allowing the necklace to breathe. "And you just insulted one, worm."

The driver swallowed hard, his earlier arrogance vanishing. "M-My apologies, my lord! I—I didn't recognize you!" He scrambled down from his seat and hurried to make last-minute adjustments to the harness, his hands shivering. "Please, forgive my rudeness! I'll have the carriage ready immediately!"

Igneal smirked, watching the man rush to prepare the horses. Fiona rubbed her temples, muttering under her breath.

A few moments later, the driver pulled open the carriage door and bowed low. "Everything is ready, my lord. Please, take your seats."

Igneal stepped forward, but paused just before entering. He turned back to the driver, an amused gleam in his eyes. "Payment?" he echoed. "A Lockhart even choosing you to drive him is payment enough."

The driver's face drained of color, but before he could protest, Fiona grabbed Igneal by the ear and yanked him back with a sharp tug.

"Ow! Unhand me this instance!"

"Shut up, you arrogant brat," she snapped. She turned to the driver and sighed. "Apologies for my brother's behavior. Take this for your troubles."

She pulled out a small pouch and tossed it to the driver, who caught it with trembling hands. He peeked inside, eyes widening at the amount of coin within.

"T-Thank you, my lady," he stammered.

Fiona shot Igneal a glare before shoving him into the carriage. "Get in before I really make you pay for embarrassing us."

Trying to stifle his laughter, Tyrus followed them and climbed in. The door shut behind them, and soon the carriage was rolling down the streets, the driver far more respectful than before.

Igneal rubbed his ear, grumbling. "You are fortunate I did not strike you."

"And you are fortunate I didn't slap you," Fiona growled. "What you did was uncalled for. Lockhart or not, you should not be using our name for freebies. That is not how we were raised—or at least, not me."

Igneal scoffed. "Funny you should say that, considering you're not even a true Lockhart."

In a flash, Fiona's straight face was replaced by a dark, thunderous frown. Tyrus felt the temperature in the carriage shift—not literally, but in the way pressure suddenly filled the space between them.

Fiona's fists clenched. "Care to repeat that?"

Igneal leaned back, arms crossed, looking smug. "I'm just reminding you of what you seem to keep forgetting. You were disowned, remember? All because your primary affinity and looks were different. You go on and on about how we should act, but you're not exactly in a position to lecture me about family honor."

Fiona took a sharp breath through her nose, making Tyrus briefly wonder if she would follow through with her earlier threat to slap him. However, she managed to suppress the urge and instead, a bitter smirk appeared on her lips.

"Right. Because Father's word is law, isn't it?" she said, voice dripping with venom. "You keep clinging to that like it means something."

"It matters," Igneal countered. "Just because it wasn't made public, does it mean it isn't real? Father made his choice, and you weren't part of it. So stop pretending like you still have a say in how our family should act. Sometimes I wonder if you truly possess even a touch of Lockhart blood."

"Right," she said slowly, her voice quieter now. "Because the great Lockhart is all about blood, isn't it? Power, lineage, tradition—you all cling to it like it's the only thing that matters. But tell me, Igneal, what has that 'blood' actually done for you? Does it make you stronger? Does it make you better than me? Better than Tyrus?"

"It makes me worthy of our name. You weren't."

A humorless laugh erupted from her mouth. "Worthy? Because my fire burns blue instead of red? Because I don't look like the rest of you? Because I didn't fall in line like the rest of you? Face it, Igneal. You don't care about Father's approval—you just don't like the fact that I refuse to let his decision define me. After what he's done to me back in Lockhart territory, I'm glad I was cast away from that place, and I still have the scars to prove it."

Igneal's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't answer, only looking away and setting his sights on the passing city. The carriage rocked slightly as it took a turn, the sound of hooves clattering against stone filling the silence between them.

For the first time, Tyrus truly wondered what exactly had happened to Fiona before she came to the academy. He knew she was strong, but the way she spoke about her father, about the Lockhart name, clarified that strength hadn't come without a cost.

The mention of scars made him think back to when they were underground and her boot got torn, revealing old scars. Back then, he paid little attention to it as scars were a common occurrence. But now, after what she had just said, those scars seemed to hold a new significance.

What had really happened to her back in Lockhart territory? He considered asking, but the scowling look on Fiona's face told him now wasn't the time. Instead, he turned his gaze forward. For the rest of the ride, none of them spoke another word.

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