The lecture dragged on. History of Magic was dry enough on a normal day, but with a throbbing nose and a classroom thick with tension, it felt like torture.

Finally, the bell was about to ring.

Instructor Samantha closed her textbook with a sharp thud that woke up half the back row.

"Before you leave," she said, her voice cutting through the rustle of packing bags. "A reminder."

She swept her gaze across the room, lingering for a fraction of a second on Kael, then me.

"The Mid-Semester Assessments will begin next week."

The room erupted into a chorus of misery.

"Ughhh…"

"Already?"

"I haven't even memorized the mana circuits yet!"

"Silence," Samantha commanded. The groans died instantly. "Prepare yourselves. This assessment will determine your ranking for the field missions next month. Dismissed."

She turned on her heel and marched out, her cape flowing behind her like a storm cloud.

*****

[The Corridor]

Students spilled out into the hallway, eager to get to lunch.

I packed my bag slowly.

"Ariana," I said, slinging my bag over one shoulder. "Go ahead to the cafeteria. Save us a table. I have something to do."

Ariana frowned, clutching her books tight against her chest. She planted her feet firmly.

"No."

"No?"

"I'm not leaving you," she said, her eyes darting suspiciously around the hallway as if Kael were hiding in a locker. "What if you get into another fight? You're still hurt."

"I'm healed," I reminded her. "Your potion worked wonders."

"That's not the point! What if he attacks you again?"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Ariana, what do you take me for? Some lunatic who goes around looking for brawls?"

"Well…" She looked at me skeptically. "You did threaten him before leaving."

"That wasn't a threat. It was a statement of intent."

"See! That's exactly why I need to stay!"

"Ariana," I placed a hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. "I promise, I'm not going to fight anyone. I'm just going to the faculty building to handle some… administrative paperwork. It's boring stuff. You go get the Beef Stew before they run out."

She hesitated. The mention of the limited-edition stew weakened her resolve.

"…You promise?"

"I promise. I'll meet you there in twenty minutes."

"Okay…" she relented slowly. "But if you come back with even a scratch, I'm doubling your bitterness dosage in the next potion."

"Understood."

I watched her walk away toward the cafeteria, ensuring she was safe with a group of female students, before I turned and headed in the opposite direction.

****

The halls here were quieter. Polished marble floors, portraits of past headmasters, and the smell of old paper.

I walked with a steady, purposeful rhythm.

Kael expected retaliation. He expected me to hire thugs, or challenge him to a duel, or try to ambush him in the dark.

He thought like a protagonist in an action manga. To him, conflict was resolved with fists and mana.

'Idiots,' I thought, touching my healed nose.

I knew my own strength.

[Lucien Ashborne] vs [Kael]?

It wasn't even close. His stats were absurd. He had plot armor, hidden power-ups, and the ability to pull strength out of his ass when he was losing. If I fought him physically, I would lose. Period.

So, I wasn't going to play his game.

I was a modern man inside a villain's body. And in the modern world, when someone assaults you, you don't challenge them to a sword fight.

You sue them.

Or in this case, you unleash the bureaucracy.

I stopped in front of a heavy oak door with a silver plaque: [Instructor Samantha Hall – Head of Discipline].

I fixed my collar. I messed up my hair just a fraction to look slightly disheveled. I checked my expression in a window reflection—perfectly calm, but with a hint of aggrieved victimhood.

Knock. Knock.

"Enter."

Her voice was sharp.

I opened the door and stepped in.

Instructor Samantha was sitting behind a desk piled high with paperwork. Her rapier was resting against the bookshelf, gleaming slightly even in the dim light. She didn't look up as she scribbled furiously on a document.

"Have you lost your way, Cadet Lucien?" she spoke, her quill never stopping.

'Does she have eyes on the top of her head?' I wondered, staring at her bowed head.

"No, I don't have eyes on my head," she said flatly.

I froze. 'Can she read minds?'

"No, I don't read minds. You breathe louder when you're confused," she spoke again, finally dipping her quill into the inkwell. "Make it quick. I have lesson plans to finalize."

Man, she is frightening.

I cleared my throat, straightening my posture.

"Instructor Samantha," I said politely. "I wish to file a formal complaint."

The scratching of her quill stopped instantly.

Silence filled the room.

Slowly, she looked up. Her steel-grey eyes landed on me, scanning me like a predator. Then, they narrowed slightly as she focused on my face—specifically, the faint bruising around my nose that the potion hadn't fully erased yet.

"Cadet Ashborne," she said, setting the quill down with deliberate slowness. "A complaint regarding what?"

"Regarding an unprovoked physical assault by another student," I said clearly, my voice devoid of emotion. "Cadet Kael assaulted me in the courtyard prior to the morning session."

Samantha leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking. She interlaced her fingers, studying me.

"I heard rumors of a scuffle," she said neutrally. "Usually, I let students settle their petty squabbles themselves. It builds character. A few bruises teach better lessons than I can."

"With all due respect, Instructor, this was not a squabble. Nor was it a duel," I countered calmly. "I did not raise my mana. I did not draw a weapon. I was engaged in a conversation, and he struck me with a mana-enhanced fist."

I paused for effect, letting the weight of the accusation settle.

"I believe the Academy rules are strict regarding the use of violence outside of sanctioned duels or training areas. Section 4, Paragraph 2: 'Any student found using combat arts against a defenseless peer faces immediate disciplinary action.'"

Samantha studied me.

She hated troublemakers. But she was the Head of Discipline. She hated rule-breakers even more. She was known for being ruthlessly impartial; she didn't care that Kael was the 'Golden Boy' commoner hero, and she didn't care that I was a noble villain.

To her, the Academy was a machine, and Order was its fuel.

"Kael punched you?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave. "Without you attacking first?"

"There were dozens of witnesses," I replied smoothly. "Princess Celestia was there. You can ask her. She is known for her honesty. I am sure she will not lie to an instructor."

Samantha's eyes flashed with a dangerous light.

"Assaulting a fellow cadet without provocation…" she muttered, her face darkening. "Does he think this is a tavern brawl? Does he think his mana gives him the right to act like a thug?"

She grabbed a fresh sheet of parchment.

"Very well, Cadet Ashborne. Your complaint is noted."

"Thank you, Instructor."

"I will investigate this matter on my own," she said, her tone final. "I will call you when I have my findings. Dismissed."

I bowed deeply.

"I await your justice."

I turned and exited the staff building.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, the polite expression vanished.

A cold, wicked smile spread across my face.

'Checkmate, Hero.'

I walked down the corridor, humming a tune.

As I turned the corner toward the main hall, I crossed paths with Elisha. The elf ranger was carrying a stack of books, looking anxious.

She looked up and saw me.

She saw the smile.

It wasn't a happy smile. It was the smile of a wolf that had just set a trap and was watching the prey walk toward it.

Elisha froze. A shiver ran down her spine.

'He's planning something,' she thought, her eyes widening in panic. 'He looks too happy. He's going to attack Kael!'

She clutched her books tighter and bolted, running toward the dorms to inform the group.

'I have to warn them! Lucien is going to do something terrible!'

Unbeknownst to her, she was completely unprepared for what was coming. She was expecting a magical ambush or assassins.

She wasn't expecting a detention slip.

****

[The Cafeteria]

I entered the bustling cafeteria. The noise of clattering trays and chatting students washed over me.

I scanned the room.

There, at a corner table near the window, Ariana was waiting.

Her lunchbox—a sleek, mana-insulated container was sitting on the table, lid still closed. She hadn't taken a single bite. She was staring at the door, her leg bouncing nervously.

Bringing a lunchbox was no longer strange here. Ever since my shop took off, half the cadets now brought "takeout" from the diner rather than eating the bland cafeteria gruel.

I walked over and slid into the seat beside her.

She jumped, then let out a breath of relief.

"See?" I said, spreading my arms. "I am back. And uninjured."

Ariana inspected me quickly—checking my face, my hands, my clothes—before finally relaxing.

"You took too long," she grumbled, finally opening her lunchbox. "The rice is getting cold."

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