The scene of students being forcibly subdued was broadcast across the entire nation.

I stared at the shimmering screen in silence, my throat feeling strangely dry. To think technology like this already existed. Screen transmission magic—something that had only been mentioned briefly in the webtoon as a "recent development"—was now being used in the worst possible way.

I never imagined it would be used to air something like this.

"So… what's it like outside right now?" someone asked quietly.

"It's chaos," came the answer without hesitation. "Everyone's on edge. It feels like people might start drawing swords at any moment."

The information came from students who had returned late to the Academy, escorted in under heavy security. They brought with them the tension of the city, clinging to their words like smoke.

For ordinary citizens, Academy students were symbols of aspiration.

Even commoners—people bound by birth to limited opportunities—could earn recognition here. Strength, talent, and ability mattered more than lineage. Within these walls, students were judged not by blood, but by merit.

At least… that was how it was supposed to be.

In a world built on rigid class distinctions, the Academy served as a release valve. A way to suppress resentment before it boiled over. By offering equal education and opportunity, it maintained a fragile balance between nobles and commoners alike.

That balance was the Academy's true purpose.

And now?

"What if," someone muttered bitterly, "it was all a lie?"

If commoner students—symbols of hope—were being discriminated against inside the Academy itself…

If nobles, empowered by status and strength, were openly suppressing them…

Then the meaning of the Academy collapsed entirely.

Inside the Academy's student council room, a heavy silence hung in the air.

Anna sat at the head of the table, posture straight, hands folded neatly as she listened to the reports being delivered one after another.

"In several regions, citizens have begun occupying local government offices."

Anna's brows knit together slightly. "The scale of the damage?"

"So far, there have been no large-scale armed clashes," the council member replied carefully. "However, tensions are extremely high. If even a small incident occurs, violence could break out at any moment."

A powder keg.

That was the only way to describe it.

Anna slowly exhaled, her fingers tightening just a little. The situation was moving in a direction she didn't like—no, one she had hoped would never come.

This kind of unrest never ended cleanly.

The occupation of government offices was only the opening act. She'd read enough history to know how these stories progressed. Once people realized they could seize authority without immediate punishment, fear would turn into confidence, and confidence into fury.

And fury always needed a target.

First, corrupt officials.

Then, nobles.

And finally—

The imperial family.

Her jaw clenched.

'Guillotines,' a cold thought surfaced unbidden.

Public executions. The collapse of order. The Empire tearing itself apart in the name of justice.

…No. That could not be allowed to happen.

Why should I be condemned simply for being born a noble?

I hadn't chosen her bloodline. i hadn't oppressed anyone. Yet in times like these, nuance vanished first. To the masses, a noble was a noble—no exceptions.

Of course, realistically speaking, she herself might survive.

As the youngest son of a count's family, I wouldn't be dragged to an execution ground.

At worst, my title would be stripped away.

Our lands seized.

Our wealth confiscated under the banner of justice.

At worst.

But even that future was unacceptable.

No—unthinkable.

Just imagining my family paying the price for my misstep made cold sweat bead down my spine. Losing everything, being branded as a disgrace… even if my life were spared, it would be a fate worse than death.

Which meant one thing.

Things could not—must not—escalate to that point.

I exhaled quietly and forced my expression to remain calm.

"Have you found who's behind this incident?"

"Yes," the man across from me answered without hesitation. "Based on information obtained from the students who incited the riot, we've identified a suspect."

"Show me."

"Yes."

With a short chant, a magical illusion bloomed into existence in the center of the student council room. Mana condensed into light, shaping itself into the image of a man.

A middle-aged man with an unkempt beard. Sunken eyes. A face hardened by years of bitterness and resentment.

The moment I saw him, my breath hitched.

…Why does he look so familiar?

I stared at the illusion, my gaze tracing every detail—his sharp nose, the faint scar near his jaw, the way his eyes seemed to glare even in a static image.

I'd seen this face before. I was sure of it.

But where?

Before I could dig further into that uneasy feeling, the report continued.

"Name: Bane. Age: forty-one. Approximately three years ago, he vanished without a trace. Recently, he was spotted at a tavern in the capital."

"Three years ago…" I murmured.

That timing alone set off alarm bells in my head. Three years ago was when several underground organizations had been quietly dismantled by the Empire.

Coincidence?

"Have you determined his current location?"

"Unfortunately, no. After being sighted, he went into hiding again. His trail went cold."

"So there's been no real progress."

"…I apologize."

I raised a hand, stopping him before he could bow any deeper. "No. Continue the search."

"Yes, sir."

I leaned back slightly, folding my hands together as I studied the illusion once more.

"He spread strange rumors among students," the report continued, "deliberately inciting unrest. He was also responsible for broadcasting the scene of commoner students being subdued—distributing it nationwide through illegal magic tools."

My jaw tightened.

So that was his goal. Not just chaos—but spectacle.

To turn the Academy into a stage.

To pit nobles and commoners against each other.

To provoke outrage across the Empire.

"…He knew exactly where to strike," I said quietly.

"Yes. His actions suggest careful planning rather than impulsive violence."

That only made it worse.

A man capable of this much preparation wouldn't disappear forever. He was waiting. Watching. Looking for the next spark.

And the more I stared at his face, the stronger that sense of familiarity became.

This wasn't the first time our paths had crossed.

I was sure of it.

They've already identified the man believed to be the prime suspect.

Unfortunately, he's slippery—too slippery. Despite several attempts, they still haven't managed to capture him.

Still, I'm not particularly worried.

From what I've heard, the Emperor himself is furious about this incident. And once the Imperial Knights fully mobilize, tracking down a single man should be trivial.

Everyone involved knows that too.

If this matter drags on unresolved, the heads of those in charge will be the first to roll. That's how serious this situation is.

"So… nothing has changed yet?" I asked.

"Yes," Anna replied with a small nod. "But the suspect's identity has been confirmed. We should hear good news soon."

At the moment, I was staying inside the student council room with Anna.

Ever since the riot, my face had been broadcast live across the entire Empire. Multiple times. From multiple angles.

Thanks to that, I'd apparently become something of a public figure—though not in a good way.

Among the furious populace, I was being treated like a symbol of oppression. The face of tyranny. The villain who trampled on student freedom.

Which made absolutely no sense.

As a precaution against possible incidents—or outright attacks—I'd been advised to stay close to Anna whenever possible.

Frankly, I didn't like it.

The student council room was supposed to be a place of authority and order, but lately it felt more like a bunker. Guards rotated outside the door, and even inside, the atmosphere was tense.

"I still don't understand it," I muttered, leaning back in my chair. "Why am I the one they're fixating on?"

And.....

"Why would someone go to such lengths to orchestrate something like this?" I muttered. "What do they even want?"

The man called Bane had acted far too methodically for this to be a simple act of chaos. Nothing he did was impulsive. Every step felt calculated, deliberate.

He spread strange rumors among the students, carefully fanning dissatisfaction and resentment. Then, once tensions reached a breaking point, the unrest exploded—forcing the academy to respond. Even the suppression of the rioters felt like something he'd anticipated from the start.

No, more than that… it was probably part of his plan.

But that only made it harder to understand.

What could he possibly gain from provoking such a massive incident?

The risks alone were enormous. Angering the Academy was one thing—drawing the attention of the Empire and the Imperial Knights was another entirely. No sane person would do this without a clear objective.

Power? Chaos? Revenge?

None of them quite fit.

I frowned, tapping my finger lightly against the armrest as the pieces refused to come together.

If Bane was willing to move the entire Academy like pieces on a board, then the riot itself wasn't the goal.

It was just the opening move.

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