The adrenaline did not fade slowly. It crashed.

An hour after the exam concluded, Vane sat on a wooden bench in the locker room. His hands were shaking. The tremors were not from fear. They were the aftershocks of mana exhaustion. His channels felt raw, as if he had pumped liquid glass through his veins instead of energy.

The locker room was crowded. Dozens of other first-year students were stripping off damaged armor and comparing injuries. The air smelled of sweat, antiseptic spray, and bruised egos.

Usually, the noise was deafening after an exam. Students would boast about their kills or complain about the unfair difficulty.

Today, the room was quiet.

Whenever Vane moved, heads turned. The whispers were low, but they carried across the tiled floor.

"That's him."

"The Rank 1? I thought he was a fraud."

"He isn't Rank 1 anymore. Did you see the board?"

"Doesn't matter. He beat the Warlord on points. He survived the monster."

Vane ignored them. He peeled off his ruined coat. The fabric was stiff with frozen blood and scorch marks from Ashe's fire. He tossed it into the incinerator chute and pulled a fresh uniform from his locker.

He buttoned his shirt with stiff fingers. He didn't care about their respect. Respect didn't pay the rent. Respect didn't keep him alive.

He cared about the numbers.

He slammed his locker shut and walked out. The crowd parted for him. They didn't step aside out of politeness. They stepped aside because he smelled like ozone and violence.

Vane walked into the main hall of the Administration Building.

The Grand Scoreboard dominated the wall. It was a massive crystal display that updated in real-time. A crowd of students had gathered at the base, staring up at the new hierarchy of the first year.

Vane stopped at the back of the crowd. He looked up.

[OFFICIAL RANKING UPDATE]

1. Isaac Glacium

Villa 1 Assigned

2. Anastasia Aurelia

Villa 2 Assigned

3. Vane

Villa 3 Assigned

4. Ashe Razar

Villa 4 Assigned

5. Valerica Sol

Villa 5 Assigned

The list continued down into the hundreds, but nobody was looking at the bottom. They were staring at the top five. The shuffling of the gods.

Isaac had taken his rightful place. The anomaly of Vane sitting at Rank 1 was over. The universe had corrected itself.

Almost.

"Rank 3," a voice muttered beside him.

Vane turned. A student from the Blue Tower was staring at him with wide, confused eyes.

"You're still in the villas," the student said. "You beat the Warlord. You beat the Titan."

"She hit the wall," Vane said simply. "I hit the button."

He turned and walked away before the student could ask for an autograph or a duel. He had packing to do.

The sun was setting over the Villa District. The golden light washed over the spiral hill, illuminating the white stone mansions that housed the academy's elite.

Vane stood in the foyer of Villa 1.

It was silent. The staff had already packed his meager belongings. There wasn't much. A few changes of clothes, his spear maintenance kit, and the few books he had stolen from the library.

The head chef, a stout man named Pierre who made excellent omelets, stood by the door. He looked genuinely sad.

"It was a pleasure, sir," Pierre said with a bow. "You were the only student who ever finished his vegetables."

"Thanks, Pierre," Vane said. "Take care of the kitchen."

The front door opened.

A chill wind swept through the warm foyer. Frost crept across the polished marble floor.

Isaac Glacium walked in.

He was wearing a fresh uniform. He looked impeccable. There was no sign that he had been holding up a glacier two hours ago.

He stopped when he saw Vane.

The two of them stood in the center of the palace. The former King and the new King.

Isaac looked around the room. He nodded slowly, as if approving of the decor. Then he looked at Vane.

He extended his hand.

"Keys," Isaac said.

It wasn't a demand. It was a transaction.

Vane reached into his pocket. He pulled out the heavy gold keycard that controlled the wards of Villa 1. He dropped it into Isaac's palm.

"The shower on the second floor takes a minute to heat up," Vane advised.

Isaac pocketed the key. "I take cold showers."

"Of course you do," Vane muttered.

Isaac stepped aside, clearing the path to the door. He didn't gloat. He didn't offer a condescending speech about power and hierarchy. He simply took what he had earned.

But as Vane passed him, Isaac spoke.

"Villa 3 is identical to this one," Isaac noted. "It just sits fifty feet lower on the hill. Do not get too comfortable, Rat. I expect you to try and climb back up."

"I prefer the basement anyway," Vane replied.

"Liar," Isaac said. A faint smile touched his lips. "You like the gold just as much as I do."

Vane walked out the door. He didn't look back at the palace. He walked down the winding stone path, descending the spiral hill.

He walked past Villa 2. It was a mirror image of Villa 1, glowing with the golden light of Anastasia's presence. He could feel the hum of her mana radiating from the windows.

He continued down to Villa 3.

He stopped at the gate.

It was not a downgrade. To anyone else, it was a castle. It was a sprawling estate of white marble and glass, featuring the same high arches, the same manicured gardens, and the same aura of absolute wealth as Villa 1. It was only slightly smaller in square footage, perhaps missing a third guest wing that Vane never used anyway.

Vane walked up the steps. He pressed his hand against the scanner.

Beep.

"WELCOME, RANK 3."

The double doors swung open.

A line of staff was waiting for him. They bowed in unison.

"Welcome home, Master Vane," the head maid said.

Vane looked at the crystal chandelier hanging in the foyer. He looked at the plush velvet carpets. He looked at the grand staircase that curved up to the master suite.

It was still a palace. He was still a king, just a king of a slightly smaller hill.

"Thanks," Vane said, walking past them. "I'm going to sleep for a week. Don't wake me up unless the building is on fire."

He climbed the stairs to the master bedroom. He dropped his bag on the floor and collapsed onto the massive four-poster bed. The silk sheets felt cool against his skin.

He closed his eyes.

He had survived the purge. He had kept his footing on the mountain. He was Rank 3.

Knock. Knock.

The sound was sharp and authoritative.

Vane groaned. He opened his eyes. He wasn't expecting visitors. Ashe would have kicked the door down. Pervis would have rung the bell.

He stood up and walked down the stairs. The maid moved to answer the door, but Vane waved her away.

He opened the heavy oak door.

A woman stood on the porch. She was not a student. She was tall, wearing the severe black robes of the Academy Administration. Her face was impassive. She held a black envelope sealed with red wax.

The seal was not the school crest. It was a personal sigil. A sun eclipsed by a moon.

Vane felt a cold drop of sweat slide down his spine. He knew that sigil. He had seen it three months ago, in his office in Oakhaven, when the most powerful woman on the continent had frozen his guards and told him he was a frog in a well.

"Vane," the woman stated. It was not a question.

"Yes," Vane answered.

She extended the envelope.

"Summons," she said.

Vane took the letter. The paper was heavy and textured. It felt like holding a brick.

"From the Headmistress," Vane said, recognizing the magical signature on the wax.

The woman adjusted her glasses. She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and pity.

"She wants to see you immediately. In the Spire."

Vane looked at the black envelope.

Headmistress Evangeline did not summon students for tea. She summoned them to offer them a deal, or to expel them.

"Now?" Vane asked.

"Now," the woman confirmed. "She hates waiting."

Vane gripped the letter. He looked back at his luxurious new villa. He hadn't even unpacked his toothbrush.

"Right," Vane sighed. "No rest for the rats."

He stepped out into the night.

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