Darius's jaw tightened. He managed a bow from the chair.

"It will be done," he said, voice low.

"By when?"

"In a month's…"

"When?"

"In a week, my Lord."

"Good," Michael said. His smile returned, warm and bright, as if the last minutes had been a polite chat about the weather. "Then we are finished for today. Drink your tea before it thaws."

*

As Michael stepped out of the manor, the late morning air met him.

His boots clicked softly against the stone path.

Captain Rohan followed a few steps behind, still silent. Michael didn't speak either; there was no need. The message had already been carved into Darius's mind and he figured that by tomorrow morning, it would reach every noble within this region.

Michael soon reached his carriage.

As he settled into the carriage, Michael let his thoughts wander.

He had originally planned to investigate Darius's territory—to look into the flow of supplies, and the trade records. But after seeing the knight's reaction, he changed his mind.

Breaking men was easy. Using them was harder, and far more valuable.

Darius would be useful, at least for now. Michael didn't need loyalty from such people—just obedience. Fear worked just as well as respect, and he had never been worried about the process of a result but the result.

Michael wasn't loyal to the kingdom. He doubted he ever would be. The nobles, the crown, the councils—they were just names to him. He was only part of it because he needed to be.

This world wasn't his final destination. He didn't even believe he'd spend his life here. His goals stretched far beyond its borders, but until then, stability was useful. It gave him time to grow.

And if others desired stability too, then all the better. They would be easy to reason with—or to control.

The carriage jolted forward, wheels crunching softly over gravel.

Michael leaned back against the seat, watching the landscape drift by through the window.

*

Back in the original world, inside the academy's secret realm, the orientation had just concluded after the director finished outlining everything that needed to be said for him.

Michael could be seen walking alongside Lira as they made their way back to his villa.

Students lingered here and there, still discussing the director's words, but most stepped aside as Michael passed. Whether out of respect or unease, it was hard to tell.

Lira walked beside him in silence, her expression thoughtful. She occasionally glanced at him, wanting to speak, but the calm, unreadable look on Michael's face made her think twice each time.

It was Michael who finally broke the silence. "Now that the orientation's over," he said, his tone calm, "what happens next?"

Lira blinked, as if pulled from her own thoughts. "Ah, right. The semester has officially begun," she replied. "From now on, the courses you registered for will be open to you. You'll also gain access to several academy facilities that were previously restricted—training grounds, libraries, the mana chambers, and so on."

Michael nodded, taking that in without comment. He said nothing more, and for a moment, the silence returned.

This time, however, it was Lira who spoke first. She hesitated briefly before asking, "Is it true… that you awakened this year?"

Her voice was curious but cautious, almost like she feared overstepping.

Michael's steps didn't slow. "Why do you ask?" he replied, his tone even.

Lira looked down, fiddling with a strand of her hair. "It's just… hard to believe."

Michael glanced at her, an amused glint flickering in his eyes. "Do you think the director would lie about that sort of thing? For fun?" he asked.

Before she could even answer, he thought back to the director's odd way of speaking and the faint smirk the man had worn during orientation. The more he remembered, the more he felt that the answer might actually be yes.

Lira didn't respond either, but the faint crease between her brows told him she had likely reached the same conclusion.

A small, helpless smile tugged at the corner of Michael's lips. "Yes," he finally said. "It's true. I awakened this year."

Lira stopped for a moment, her eyes widening slightly as she turned toward him. "That's… unbelievable."

Her tone wasn't accusatory, but the disbelief was obvious. Yet when she looked closely, Michael's expression remained calm—too calm to be lying.

He sighed inwardly. He couldn't even blame her. Leveling up to fifty in less than five months wasn't something anyone would find easy to accept. If he had heard such a claim from someone else, he wouldn't have believed it either.

But this world was full of possibilities. Wasn't he proof of that himself?

Michael thought these things quietly but didn't say them aloud. He simply continued walking.

Lira drew a breath and nodded to herself. "You are amazing," she said quietly. "I am older than you. I awakened three years ago but I am still a level thirty Archer."

Michael glanced at her. "Archer, hm."

She looked a little embarrassed.

"Level thirty in three years doesn't look bad," Michael said in a shaky tone. .

"That is what the instructors say," she replied, eyes on the road. "But standing next to you, it feels small."

Michael was about to reply, but before he could, his steps faltered.

A deep, heavy pulse echoed in his chest—once, twice, then again, louder. It wasn't his heartbeat. It was something else.

He froze. A few seconds later, Michael's eyes narrowed slightly as realization struck.

Jester.

The pulse was like a call.

Somehow, through the link between them through his Genesis body, Jester was reaching out to him.

Michael placed a hand over his chest.

Lira noticed the change immediately. "Michael?" she asked, worry flashing in her eyes. "Are you alright?"

Michael didn't answer right away. His gaze turned distant.

"I'm fine," he finally said, though his voice sounded lower, distracted. His focus wasn't on her anymore.

***

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