Elena's face lit up as she bit into the cookie. "It's so good!" she said, her voice full of genuine delight.

I watched her quietly, resting my chin on one hand. There was something oddly peaceful about the way she enjoyed the smallest things—like the world around her slowed down just a little.

Perhaps sensing my gaze, Elena looked up, her eyes darting nervously before meeting mine.

Then, out of nowhere, she spoke.

"Louis, you seem… like an adult."

"…Me?"

I blinked, taken off guard.

'Well, technically, I am an adult.'

All academy students were considered adults by imperial law once they entered. So yes, by definition, she wasn't wrong.

But that wasn't what she meant.

"Really?" I said, tilting my head. "I don't think so."

I've never thought of myself as especially mature. If anything, I make plenty of mistakes—say the wrong things, act on impulse, and sometimes let my emotions get the better of me.

Yet Elena shook her head softly, brushing a few crumbs from her fingers.

"No… you're different. You're always calm. You think before you act. And…" She hesitated, her voice lowering as if embarrassed. "You seem to know a lot about things most people don't."

Her sincerity caught me off guard.

For a moment, I didn't know what to say.

To her, I probably did seem that way—someone composed, grounded, dependable.

But if she knew what went on in my head half the time… the doubts, the second-guessing, the half-baked plans held together by sheer luck—she'd probably take it back immediately.

I smiled faintly, rubbing the back of my neck.

"…Is that so?"

Elena nodded, smiling before taking another bite of her cookie.

I scratched my cheek, feeling a little awkward under Elena's gaze.

She had been quietly watching me for a while, and when she finally spoke, her tone was soft but curious.

"By the way, Louis."

"Hm? What is it?"

"Why do you have a wound on your face?"

"Huh? Oh… this?"

Instinctively, I touched my cheek. Sure enough, there was a faint sting beneath my fingers. The skin felt rough, a small cut I hadn't even noticed until now.

"Did I… get that yesterday?" I muttered to myself.

Even though I'd been wearing a helmet the whole time, somehow, a small wound had managed to sneak past. Maybe a fragment of debris—or just bad luck.

Before I could think more about it, Elena reached into her bag. "Wait a second."

I blinked as she rummaged through the pouch, and then pulled out a small tin and a roll of bandage.

"Here," she said, smiling as she held them up in both hands like a proud nurse. "Stay still."

"Eh—wait, I can do it my—"

Too late.

She leaned in closer. Her hair brushed my shoulder, and a soft, sweet scent—like flowers after rain—filled the air. My heart skipped, just a little.

The warmth of her breath touched my cheek as her fingers gently dabbed the ointment over the wound. It stung for a second, but then her touch was cool and light.

"There."

She tore off a piece of bandage and carefully pressed it against my skin, smoothing it down with the pad of her thumb.

"Hehe. All done."

When she leaned back, her smile was bright enough to make the world around her feel softer.

I blinked, trying not to look too flustered. My face felt… warm. Maybe it was just the summer air. Or maybe not.

Looking away, I tilted my head toward the moon hanging above us, glowing pale against the night sky.

"…Thanks," I said quietly.

Elena giggled. "You're welcome."

For a moment, we just stood there, the night calm and peaceful.

But somehow, my cheek wasn't the only thing that felt warm anymore.

It's seems summer was coming this year faster.

---

Back to Dormitory... Next Day.

The essence of the Dream Orb originates from dreams and fantasies.

In other words, from something that isn't real—something that exists only in imagination.

That's what we call a dream fantasy.

"Fantasy…" I muttered under my breath, lying flat on my dormitory bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The room was quiet, the faint hum of the mana lamp above the only sound. My mind, however, refused to rest.

The place where I first obtained the Dream Orb… the dream world known as Arcana.

If I could just enter that place again, maybe all my current worries would be solved. The problem was—

"Arcana isn't somewhere you can just visit whenever you want."

That world wasn't bound by normal logic. It existed between reality and illusion, formed only under special conditions—when the user's heart was overflowing with magic and filled with an intense yearning for dreams.

In short, it wasn't a place one could force their way into.

Back then, during the entrance ceremony, I had simply gotten lucky. There was no way I could recreate that exact moment again.

So the question was… what could I do now?

I couldn't head into a dungeon—not with the academy still recovering from the recent chaos. And entering Arcana again was out of the question.

That left me with only one option.

"…Should I go see that person?"

A name drifted through my mind.

Elysium—the higher education institute connected to the academy. A place where elite scholars and researchers studied magic far beyond what was taught in regular classes.

And among them was her.

A professor who specialized in dreams and illusions. Someone completely absorbed in her own research.

I didn't know the full details of her work, but I vaguely remembered reading in the original story that her research involved "the nature of fantasy and the bridge between consciousness and magic."

Fantasy. Dreams.

If anyone could give me a clue about the Dream Orb—or how to enter Arcana again—it would be her.

I turned my head toward the small desk beside my bed. The faint light from the mana lamp glimmered against the Dream Orb resting there. Its glow was fading, dimmer than before.

If I didn't do something soon, it might lose its power completely.

I let out a small sigh, sat up, and reached for it.

"Alright then," I murmured.

The orb felt cool against my palm, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

"…Let's go ask her."

Tucking it safely into my coat pocket, I stood, straightened my uniform, and left the dorm room.

The hallways were quiet at this hour, the faint echo of my footsteps following me as I made my way toward Elysium.

Toward the one person who might just hold the answers I needed.

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