Illusionary Feather woke to the ceiling, letting out a tiny grumble. "Ugh~ Another troublesome day. Student Council trials? Attending that kind of event is just asking for headaches. And if I actually get in? Double the trouble. But..."

His complaint faded as his hand brushed the softness beneath the blankets.

*—At the very least, I can’t let Emberheart turn out like me.*

His fingers gently stroked Emberheart’s hair before he slipped out of bed. After dressing in his uniform, he glanced in the mirror. *Not to brag, but showing up like this would definitely draw too much attention.*

His eyes drifted to a blue kung fu suit hanging by the door. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. *That one’ll do.* He didn’t realize wearing it would also make him stand out—just in the worst possible way.

Dressed in the blue suit, his usual charm seemed sealed away. Now he looked like a country bumpkin fresh off the farm.

*—Breakfast first.*

Their ‘Yayang’-tier dorm came with a kitchen. Short on funds lately, Illusionary Feather and Emberheart had been cooking their own meals. Even Belka—a skilled cook—had praised his dishes.

As he finished plating breakfast, a knock sounded at the door. Still in his apron, he opened it.

Predictably, Belka stood there in her uniform, radiating warmth. "Morning, little Yu," she greeted.

"Morning, Belka-nee. Come in," he replied politely.

They moved to the combined living-dining area just outside the kitchen. "Have you eaten?" Illusionary Feather asked, hanging his apron on a hook.

"Showing up this early? Obviously here to mooch breakfast," Belka said bluntly.

"Don’t say that. I always cook extra—Emberheart can’t finish it all. I’m happy to share." His tone was sincere.

"Not freeloading, though. I’ve got Student Council trial details to discuss with you." She settled at the dining table.

Illusionary Feather brought out the plates. "I’ll go wake Emberheart. Wait here, nee-sama."

*—He switched back to the kung fu suit. Trying to avoid attention in the uniform?* Belka thought with a demon-like grin. *—Though this’ll draw even more stares.*

Just as Illusionary Feather reached the door, it opened. Emberheart stood there in a white nightgown, rubbing sleep from her eyes. His heart skipped a beat.

*—So cute. I’m actually smitten.*

They walked to the living room together.

Belka teased instantly, "You two look like newlyweds."

Illusionary Feather ignored it. Emberheart showed no reaction.

Belka dropped it, watching as they took their seats—Emberheart beside him.

"Itadakimasu," they chorused, hands clasped.

Sunlight flooded the room by the time they finished.

After clearing the dishes, they gathered on the sofa. "Belka-nee," Illusionary Feather asked, "can you explain the trial now?"

"Little Yu, that’s like leaking exam answers!" She shot him a mischievous look.

"Then... anything else to share?" He recovered after a pause.

"Just the basic流程 and rules."

"Oh."

"First, every participant is an elite handpicked by their school’s Student Council."

"My grades are dead last. And I’m not even in Student Council."

"Don’t interrupt."

"Master?"

"Both of you, quiet. Listen."

"Okay~" "...’

"The venue is the plaza in front of the Integrated Tower. Expect a huge crowd."

"After all, this is a major academy event. The Student Council answers only to the Board and the Academy Head. Its members are the cream of the crop."

"Trying to crush my confidence?"

"Not at all. Just a heads-up."

"It’s about participation. Doesn’t matter if I fail."

*Stare~~~~*

"Alright, alright! I’ll try my hardest. Stop looking at me like that."

"That’s more like it. Time to go."

Outside the dorm, Belka summoned Swift. With no landing space below, they had to jump aboard. Belka expertly grabbed Illusionary Feather’s collar while Emberheart clung to his chest. With a leap, all three landed on Swift’s back.

This was Emberheart’s first ride. To Illusionary Feather’s surprise, Swift showed no irritation—no sign it even noticed the extra passenger.

"Belka-nee, did you warn Swift?"

"Nope."

"Then why’s it so calm?"

Belka walked to the dragon’s head to murmur something. Illusionary Feather sprawled comfortably on Swift’s back, Emberheart still pressed against his chest.

When Belka returned, he asked, "Well?"

"Swift said carrying such a cute little girl once won’t hurt."

"Tch. Whatever." Illusionary Feather dropped the pointless question.

Swift flew slower than usual. By the time they arrived, the plaza’s edges were packed solid, leaving only the center clear for participants and Student Council members.

"Belka-nee," Illusionary Feather said, shifting Emberheart in his arms, "while I compete, could you look after Emberheart?"

"Got it." Belka took the girl without hesitation.

Before jumping down, Illusionary Feather ruffled Emberheart’s hair. "Stay with Nee-sama. Don’t wander off."

"Mm." Her reply was flat, emotionless.

He leaped to the ground.

*—Here we go again.*

Thanks to Belka’s fame, every eye was fixed on Swift descending from the sky. His jump made him the instant target of thousands of hostile glares.

"That guy rode with the President?!"

"Who is that nobody?"

"What backwater did this bumpkin crawl out of?"

"Is that outfit some refugee uniform?"

"...’

Illusionary Feather narrowed his eyes—not in anger, but because the noise was making him sleepy.

Ignoring the crowd, he shoved his hands in his pockets, slouching slightly like a street punk, gaze fixed on the steps above.

Swift landed there. Two figures stepped down, stealing every gaze.

One had long violet hair, crimson eyes, and a mature figure radiating dominance that made every student swoon—the current Student Council President, Belka Rohlin.

Beside her walked a petite girl with jet-black hair and eyes, porcelain skin, and an expressionless face—the mysterious creature Illusionary Feather had "adopted" days ago: Phantom Night Emberheart.

All attention shifted to them. The "bumpkin" was forgotten.

Belka strode forward. Emberheart stayed rooted behind her, sensing the President had an announcement to make.

*—Only Belka’s here?* Illusionary Feather noted from below. *Not even Lily showed up. Where is everyone?*

"This is the Student Council’s first recruitment drive in three years!" Belka’s voice boomed. "Do you have what it takes to join?"

"Yes!!" The roar was thunderous.

Her words poured gasoline on already blazing ambition.

"Quiet!" Belka pressed her palms down. When silence fell, she continued, "I’m the only Council member present today, so I’ll explain the rules."

"Each participant will receive a dossier with unique tasks. No cheating—any outside help means disqualification and a lifetime ban."

"Only one of you will earn a seat on the Student Council. Give it your all." Her gaze swept the dozens of competitors, sharp with encouragement.

Illusionary Feather stood among them, unimpressed. He shook his head at the fired-up "youths."

Service mechs soon distributed the dossiers haphazardly. Illusionary Feather received his.

While others got white paper with black text, his was black paper with white text.

*—What’s this about?*

"Non-participants may watch," Belka announced, "as long as you don’t interfere. Winners will be judged on speed and quality."

As she finished, competitors summoned their dragons. Some rode water dragons into the campus river before checking their tasks.

Only Illusionary Feather and a ponytailed girl remained. Flipping through his thick dossier, he saw campus-specific requests—helping students, teachers, or staff. Quality scores depended on client satisfaction.

Others received tasks matching their specialties. His covered all three fields, though a note allowed him to skip the toughest: the Inventor section.

*—That old hag Maria Bella. Daring to probe my limits.*

Bored, Illusionary Feather noticed the plaza was nearly empty. The ponytailed girl seemed as overlooked as he was—no Student Council elite. Spotting a loophole, he approached her. "I’m Illusionary Feather. And you?"

With the trial underway, Belka had already left to monitor promising candidates—Emberheart in tow. Only Illusionary Feather and the ponytailed girl remained on the silent plaza.

The ponytailed girl, who had been intently reading documents, looked up at Illusionary Feather's words. She saw a fair-skinned boy before her, dressed in a retro blue kung fu suit. Polite as ever, she replied instantly, "I'm Kerdling Reyes. 'Illusionary Feather' is such a strange name, isn't it?"

"Is it? Really that strange?" Illusionary Feather scratched his head like a neighbor kid.

"Ahhh, well, not that strange!" Kerdling corrected herself hastily. "So, what do you need?"

"Would you mind showing me your commission?" Illusionary Feather asked, slightly awkward.

Kerdling hesitated, glancing at her documents, then at him. She seemed troubled.

"How about this," Illusionary Feather added quickly, realizing he'd pushed too hard. "I'll show you mine, and you show me yours. Fair trade?"

"O-okay," Kerdling agreed after a moment's thought.

After swapping commissions, Illusionary Feather scanned her simple but time-consuming tasks. He felt a pang of sympathy.

Kerdling, meanwhile, stared at his thick stack of commissions. Even selecting only Swordsmanship Campus tasks—her specialty—she knew she couldn't finish them. Yet this boy had time to stroll around? Or had he given up? Was he here to swap with her?

The thought made her tense.

"Since we're not close yet," Illusionary Feather said, relaxing after closing his commission, "can I call you Reyes?"

"Ahhh, y-yes! Give me my commission back!" Kerdling snatched it, clutching it to her chest. "If you're trying to swap commissions, I won't allow it!"

Illusionary Feather met her gaze. Beneath her black bangs, her orange eyes held fierce sincerity. Her actions and words made it clear—she thought he'd steal her commission.

*So she's scared I'll take it.*

"Actually, I'm not interested in that," he said gently. "If you don't mind, I'll help you. No way can you finish all this alone in time."

Kerdling stepped back, suspicious. "Really? Try stealing it, and I'll cut you down." She drew a Heavy Sword from nowhere, pointing it at him.

"Honestly, if someone hadn't forced me, I'd still be loafing around in my dorm," Illusionary Feather complained.

"Fine. But I mean it—if you try anything, I swing for real," Kerdling warned.

*As if you could hit me.*

Illusionary Feather shook his head. "I absolutely won't steal it. That's just boring."

"Good." Kerdling sheathed her sword, relieved.

"But isn't help forbidden?" she asked.

"Only non-participants can't help. I'm a participant too," Illusionary Feather misled smoothly. "Truth is, everyone helps each other when no one's watching."

"Really?" Kerdling pondered.

"Totally. Let's go together," he insisted.

Convinced, Kerdling summoned her dragon in the plaza—a sleek, iron-black beast.

*Wow. Her dragon's a first-evolution Defensive Steel Dragon at early stage.*

With that strength, she should have admirers. Why did she seem friendless?

After landing the Defensive Steel Dragon, Kerdling introduced it. "This is my partner, Steelplume Reyes. As you see, a Defensive Steel Dragon."

Iron dragons and Defensive Steel Dragons differed only in shade—darker meant stronger. This one was far deeper than Leilo's friend's dragon.

"Oh? Should I ride with you?" Illusionary Feather asked casually.

"You don't have a dragon?" she gasped.

"Yep, none," he admitted.

"What to do... sharing with him?" Kerdling muttered.

"Forget it. I know the area. You fly; I'll run," Illusionary Feather offered, sparing her discomfort.

"Only if Steelplume agrees," she surprised him. It depended on the dragon.

Kerdling climbed onto the dragon's back. Illusionary Feather stepped onto the wing—Steelplume didn't flinch. She avoided his gaze, silent, as he settled on. They took off.

*Why isn't Steelplume angry?*

*Last time, Dad begged for ages to ride.*

*Could it be...*

Kerdling blushed, lost in thought. Illusionary Feather, uninterested, lay back on the dragon's spine and rolled slightly side to side.

At Kerdling's destination—a cramped spot with no landing space—they jumped off together.

Her commission came from a weapon shop. Months ago, the owner returned home and left his weapons unattended. Now reopening, he'd requested help. The StudentCouncil had accepted it during their election cycle.

Knock knock knock. Kerdling rapped politely on the door beside a sword-shaped sign. "Hello? Anyone there?"

Illusionary Feather stood aside, unmotivated. He'd wanted to help earlier, but now felt indifferent.

The door opened. A burly, middle-aged man in a blacksmith's apron peered out. "StudentCouncil test?"

"Yes," Kerdling answered earnestly.

"Come in!" The man welcomed them warmly into the dusty shop. Weapons coated in grime lined the shelves. Their task: clean every piece and display them neatly.

Simple? With five or six hundred weapons—each taking a minute—it'd take eight or nine hours. The test timed them. Tough.

"Rare to see duplicate commissions," the man chuckled, scratching his head.

"I'm just helping," Illusionary Feather cut in.

"Isn't that cheating?" The man turned serious, eyeing them.

"Sir, we're both participants. Rules forbid non-participants from helping," Illusionary Feather explained calmly.

"You two might be the first pair to help each other," the man grinned, back to his cheerful self. "Ready to start? We're on a clock."

"Start with the left section," the man instructed before vanishing behind a cloth-draped partition. "Clean and restock left, then middle, then right. I'll check the back. Make sure it's spotless."

Before Illusionary Feather moved, Kerdling had already taken down a light sword. She scrubbed it with a grimy cloth—each weapon needed multiple passes. She hung it back, focused.

Illusionary Feather watched. She'd forgotten time; only the shopkeeper's satisfaction mattered.

"Hey, don't just stand there," Kerdling said. "If you quit, I won't blame you. It's my commission anyway."

A prickle of guilt sparked in Illusionary Feather. He grabbed a soot-black cloth and attacked the left section. Following the shopkeeper's order was part of scoring.

The man, peeking from behind the cloth, finally left, reassured.

They worked slowly but thoroughly, weapons gleaming, displays neat.

Why was he helping? Stubbornness? He didn't know. He just wanted to help her, even a little. Kerdling was earnest—she cared only about cleaning the weapons for the shop's reopening, not rushing to win the StudentCouncil seat. Her eyes showed it.

So he matched her effort.

By noon, they reached the right section. They'd sprinkled water to settle dust.

As they placed the last weapons, the shopkeeper reappeared, holding two bowls of rice and small side dishes. "Lunchtime. Eat first."

They nodded. Illusionary Feather briefly worried about Blazing Heart's lunch, then remembered Belka would handle it. He ate with Kerdling.

Kerdling ate fast—faster than him—but neatly.

After serving food, the man retreated again. Illusionary Feather noticed Kerdling's figure: Swordsmanship Campus uniform hugging her curves, black hair in a sharp ponytail. A diligent girl. Her profile was lovely.

*Why no supporters?*

Post-lunch, they worked silently until the final weapon. Kerdling sighed in relief. "Done at last. The shop can reopen soon."

Illusionary Feather moved to call the man, but Kerdling stopped him. "Don't disturb him. He might have other tasks." Illusionary Feather was floored.

*Diligent. Patient. Thoughtful. How is she friendless?*

*Earlier in the plaza, no one else was left but us.*

Before he could ask, the shopkeeper emerged. "Finished?"

"Yes," Kerdling confirmed.

"Show me the commission."

He took it, then wrote on it with his left hand.

*No wonder he had us start left.*

Handing it back, he smiled. "Excellent. My shop gives you both discounts forever."

"Discounts on materials would be better," Illusionary Feather muttered.

"Materials? You're not a Swordmaster?" the man asked.

"Nope. I'm an Inventor," Illusionary Feather replied.

"Ah! This suit—you have the same one as me! Same color, same style!" The man stared at Illusionary Feather's clothes. "Wait here. I'll show you mine." He dashed off.

"Reyes, you head back," Illusionary Feather told Kerdling, who held the scored commission. "I'll keep the old man company."

"But..." Kerdling said hesitantly.

"Go back now, or it’ll be too late. The deadline’s just one day, and it’s already nearing evening. Don’t waste your hard work—or my expectations. I’m usually too lazy to help anyone, but you’re my first exception," Illusionary Feather advised.

"Then I’ll head back first," Kerdling said finally before leaving.

When Uncle emerged, Illusionary Feather smiled at his changed outfit. "You look much younger, Uncle."

"Haha, my wife bought this for me back then. Since I’m not a Swordmaster but just a smith, I was too embarrassed to wear it. Yet I couldn’t bear to throw it away—I kept it all these years." Uncle’s gaze lingered fondly on the clothes.

The blue martial arts suit matched in size and style, save for the missing six-pointed star emblem on the chest.

"I never expected young folks today would still wear such outdated clothes," Uncle remarked, eyeing Illusionary Feather.

"Well~ well~, my master gave it to me. I couldn’t just toss it out—it fits perfectly anyway," Illusionary Feather chatted with Uncle.

Just then, voices drifted from outside.

"Little sister, come play with us big brothers!"

"I want no one but my master."

"Blazing Heart." Illusionary Feather rushed out at the sound, muttering under his breath.