"'Well, William...'" Oren murmured, eyeing his clothes. "Are you sure this is your school uniform?"

After Oren and his group returned from the mountain path, Helistar Academy's entrance exams had ended. They just made it to the enrollment ceremony. But when Oren received the academy uniform, it felt off from what he'd imagined.

He'd visited New Capital's magic academy—Raven Tree Tower—before. There, every mage, student or professor, wore hooded robes. Though factions divided them into red, black, and white robes, one thing stayed the same: you couldn't tell male from female under those cloaks.

Seeing Helistar's uniform, Oren thought it looked less like a mage's attire and more like a noble's casual suit. Without excessive frills or patterns, it felt fresh to him, used to rigid mage imagery.

"This is how our academy differs from Raven Tree Tower," William said. "Or rather, how the Duchy of Sidius differs from the Alliance of Free Cities."

Just then, Oren saw William slip into a long coat. Honestly, he didn't look like a stuffy old magic scholar. He seemed like a handsome old man about to hit the bars and charm ladies.

"If the Alliance stands for the old order," William declared, "we represent the new path! We embrace all ideas. We actively seek answers to every question! I demand my professors don't just pour fixed knowledge into students. Students shouldn't memorize magic formulas by rote. They must research magic under guidance, learning to create human-made spells!"

As he spoke, Oren noticed William clenching his fists tightly. Only the most devout believers wore such expressions—a whole body screaming faith, something worth fighting for. William continued:

"I've always believed humanity should take its second step. The first wasn't perfect, but we must move forward! Truly, to make our race great!"

William sighed deeply, gazing out the window. "That's why I signed the pact with Princess Silver Dragon. Alliance Emperor Isaerel will invade us sooner or later. That war maniac spent only two thousand silver coins on his coronation, yet funnels eighty percent of state revenue into the military..."

William slowly turned to Oren, his face weary, as if seeing a terrifying future. Before Oren could ask, William whispered:

"If violence conquers wisdom, what separates humans from beasts outside?"

Oren stood silent for a long moment. After deep thought, he stepped forward solemnly. "Don't worry, William. War won't start. Isaerel's army won't set foot on Sidius soil."

"Hmm, I hope so," William smiled slightly. He clapped his hands, set his pipe on the desk. "I must prepare my enrollment speech. You hurry too—"

"Oren!"

A crisp snap echoed as William's office door burst open. Oren turned to see Dysaia rushing in, beaming. She wore a crisp white shirt and black skirt, her snow-pale skin glowing like a blooming white lotus in soft sunlight. Her slender legs radiated quiet allure against the dark fabric.

"How is it? How is it! I've always wanted to try this floaty outfit!" Dysaia twirled, gripping her skirt hem. Oren scratched his cheek, grinning. "It suits you."

"Hehe~ Lord Oren, you're quite the charmer," Dysaia chuckled, patting his shoulder. William cleared his throat softly. "I won't disturb you two. I look forward to seeing you at the ceremony."

"See you later, William!" Dysaia waved. William bowed slightly, took his cane, and left. Oren and Dysaia walked into the academy corridor. At the end stood Yamwen.

Yamwen wore the same uniform but hid her Elvenfolk ears under an added hood. Behind her stood a silver-armored knight, rigid as a noble's statue.

"Took you long enough. Do you know how long I waited?" Yamwen snapped at Oren. He said nothing, just walked over slowly, eyeing her clothes. "Sorry. But what's with this outfit? Are you enrolling too?"

"Ah... thanks to that old man," Yamwen sighed, mimicking a gruff voice. "'Come, experience how humans live today! You'll be amazed~'"

Oren blinked, then asked helplessly, "William said that?"

As Yamwen nodded, the silver knight spoke. "This is also a way to monitor us. I shouldn't lower my guard."

"That voice... Lontan?"

"Yes. I owe you from the other day, Lord Oren." Lontan bowed slightly. "Officially, I'm Yamwen's family knight now. We'll likely meet often."

"No, I—" Oren began, but froze. Ahead, a black-robed figure with a staff emerged.

Honestly, Oren spotted them instantly—their robes stood out like a sore thumb. Helistar students avoided them like plague carriers, detouring hastily. The figure saw Oren and strode straight over.

"Who is that?" Lontan murmured, hand drifting to his axe. Before Oren could react, the figure reached him. A crisp female voice rang out from under the hood.

"I haven't visited since you recovered from the poisoning, Oren."

Oren paused, then exclaimed, "Ah! It's you, Lia!"

"Hmph~ Did it really take thinking?" Lia pulled back her hood, bowed slightly to Oren and Dysaia, then smiled. "Lea Rodni. Pleased to meet you."

At the surname, Dysaia's lips twitched. She extended her hand anyway. "Saya. Pleased to meet you."

"Saya? But you should—" Oren started. Dysaia pinched his thigh hard. He shut up. Lia turned to Oren, studying his uniform. "Oren, you said you're from New Capital. As an Alliance mage, shouldn't you wear black robes for ceremonies? Why this school uniform?"

"Ah... well..." Oren chuckled awkwardly. "When in Rome, right?"

"Is that so..." Lia seemed unsatisfied. She tapped her staff on the floor. "As noble mages, we must follow traditions set by the 'First King' Iris. However foreign mages decay, Alliance mages uphold that glorious standard! Emperors act like emperors. Commoners like commoners. Naturally, mages like mages."

She shifted her staff. "Many Alliance students are here this term, Oren. Avoid trouble—watch yourself."

Lia bowed to everyone. "Farewell. May you have a fine semester."

She spun and strode toward the assembly hall. Watching her black robes, Oren muttered, "If I had a sister, I wouldn't want one with her temper."

Snap!

Dysaia stomped hard on his foot. "Hey! What are you doing! You've been nonstop since—"

Snap!

She stomped again before he finished. Then, smiling at the stiff-faced Yamwen and Lontan, she said, "Let's go. We'll be late for the ceremony."

"No, Your Highness."

A voice cut in behind them. Oren turned to see Allen Demir, captain of Raging Tide City's enforcement squad. Allen continued, "The Duke of Sidius urgently requests your presence. Follow me."

"The Duke?" Dysaia frowned. "What does he want?"

Allen replied swiftly: "Today, the Duke received word: Alliance Emperor Isaerel has conquered the Northern Barbarians. A declaration of war against the Duchy arrived from New Capital this morning."