Pencil sighed, finally explaining.

"Due to the circumstances surrounding Rhea's unfortunate death, Tommy is being kept in custody."

"But he didn't kill her." Soren protested.

"I don't think he killed her too." Pencil fidgeted with his fingers. "But I heard the instructors say that her body had the same sign of death as the Shade Stealer."

Soren remembered that word. Pencil told him about it when they came earlier.

Soren frowned. He thought really hard about this.

After what happened with Instructor Marcus, he had come to understand that the instructors—who were all nobles—really did not like commoners.

But even with that, it was not enough reason to pin Rhea's death on Tommy.

It must mean one thing.

They had evidence.

Soren turned to Pencil. "This Shade Stealer... I need you to tell me more about it. When did it start?"

Pencil explained that it had actually begun when they resumed a few weeks back.

Many students were attacked at different parts of the school.

And some, when they went to hunt.

In total, there had been 15 deaths.

"That high!?" Soren was surprised.

Tommy nodded.

However, one common thing about all the deaths was that their Glasshearts were emptied of their Shades and their pupils became pale white.

That's why they were called the Shade Stealer.

Other than these things, Pencil stated that he did not know more.

Soren's brows creased even tighter.

From what he knew of this place, death was not new when it came to Gauntlet battles.

As odd as it seemed, whether Tommy killed or not was not the problem.

Tommy would not be blamed for Rhea's death.

Rather, it was the other crimes of the Shade Stealer.

Soren's gaze brightened.

"What evidence did they have that Tommy was the Shade Stealer?"

And a painful realization.

He did not have enough information. And unfortunately, the one person he knew to be very good at gathering information was behind bars.

At such a time, Rhea's party members were also released.

As they passed, they gave Soren and his friends very dangerous looks.

Bloodshine turned to Soren. "Nøt a day since you arrived, and you have nøt made so many enemies." She winked his way. "My husband is so nøt incredible."

Soren gave a shallow smile in return.

And so the day ended.

Besides, there was nothing they could do right now.

Soren had already made up his mind to visit Tommy the next day.

His fists clenched.

The thought of Tommy alone behind bars twisted his gut.

But for now, he needed to settle down.

They made their way through the academy grounds in silence.

The lights of the campus glowed softly against the cold night, long paths of pale blue aether-lamps lining the walkways.

The academy seemed to have a way to make the place warmer regardless of the weather.

But Soren's heart felt cold.

Mechanical platforms hummed overhead, ferrying cadets between towers.

Stone bridges connected massive structures suspended by invisible force fields, their edges glowing faintly with aether lines.

The deeper they went, the clearer it became.

This place was built on hierarchy.

The first-year dormitory came into view first.

It was tall and clean, with white stone walls reinforced by silver-lined seams of soul steel.

Aether conduits ran visibly along its exterior like glowing veins. It looked good. Impressive, even.

But then Soren looked in the distance and saw the second-year building.

It was wider. Taller. Its surface was layered in darker alloys, with what he could only assume were suspended balconies.

At least from his current angle, they did.

The lights were brighter there.

In a nutshell. The structure radiated a kind of quiet authority.

But it was nothing compared to what was beyond that—

The third-year dormitory towered like a monument.

Black and silver plating. Massive stained-glass windows depicting legendary Soulbound knights.

Same beautiful balconies, but more decorated.

These were buildings the old Soren could have guessed the emperor enjoyed.

Truly, his imagination had been limited by his environment then.

Soren exhaled slowly.

Everything here screamed a difference in class, rank, and power.

"This place doesn't even pretend to be fair," he muttered.

They entered the first-year building.

Inside, the lobby was wide and polished, filled with soft light and floating holographic panels displaying room assignments and sponsor rankings from the ladder boards.

Cadets stood in small groups, whispering, pointing, and most of them pretending not to stare at Soren and his friends.

Pencil and a reluctant Bloodshine said their goodnight and returned to their rooms.

Behind a curved reception desk stood a stocky middle-aged man with iron-gray hair and a thick beard trimmed into a square. One of his eyes was cybernetic, glowing faint blue.

The first of its kind Soren had ever seen. Of course, there was Machos with his mechanical leg; it was nothing as profound as this man's eye.

The man's broad shoulders were wrapped in an instructor's red coat over his red tunic.

A brass nameplate on his desk read:

PORTER INSTRUCTOR: RUNEWARD HECTOR

He tapped a holographic screen, then looked up.

His gaze lingered on Soren.

Then Cynthia.

His mouth slowly curved into a grin.

"So you're the leading cadet for this year, the one that actually beat a Soul Mecha pilot," he said, voice deep and amused.

"She was wounded." Soren replied flat.

"Wounded. Healthy. Who cares about the details?" He chuckled lightly. "Leading cadet is leading cadet."

"And you," he added, nodding at Cynthia, "are the silver-helmet monster everyone's whispering about."

Soren blinked. "Leading… cadet?"

Hector chuckled and swiped the hologram.

"With your achievements today alone, your battle with late instructor Ivory was definitely no fluke.

And of course, you beat Goldsworth in the rankings." he continued. "Didn't think I'd see that name fall so soon."

He reached out and tapped Soren's hand with a small scanning pad.

A soft chime rang out.

"Okay. I have confirmed your fingerprint matches what is in the database and added it to your door," Hector said. "Room access authorized."

He leaned over the counter with a smile on his face. "You're free to go."

Soren nodded slowly. "Thank you, sir."

As he left, Hector had a peculiar look in his eye.

That one mechanical eye zooming closely.

As they passed deeper into the dormitory, first-year cadets watched them from corners and hallways.

The Whispers followed.

Some looked impressed.

Some looked resentful.

Most looked… afraid.

But no one spoke to them.

No one thanked Soren for saving their lives on the train.

Soren's jaw tightened.

…And to think I once killed myself many times for these ungrateful assholes.

They took the lift to the top floor.

The doors slid open with a soft hiss. Only then did Soren see it.

The door at the end of the corridor.

ROOM 1.

His steps slowed. Cynthia stopped behind him.

And standing in front of that door—

Goldsworth and his posse.

His suitcase lay open on the floor, and his clothes were strewn around him.

His hands were shaking as he packed.

Soren's eyes widened.

And suddenly—

Everything made sense.

The fury Goldsworth came at him with when he just came out of the orientation garden

That hatred. It was because of this.

This had been Goldsworth's room.

First place.

The best location.

The symbol of his superiority.

And now—

Soren had taken it from him.

Goldsworth slowly turned.

Their eyes met.

And the air went cold.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.