The night had wrapped the city of Mabel in absolute silence.
Inside the Noblese Academy, Clint lay still, eyes fixed on the dark ceiling, covered only by a thin sheet.
Thinking of everything, and nothing.
In that shared room with his maid, there was a constant whisper of presence.
But he simply turned his back and forced himself to sleep.
---
The next morning, a firm knock—three quick taps—echoed on the wooden door.
"Are you awake, Clint?"
It was Alucard's voice.
Clint opened his eyes slowly, only to come face to face with Emylle's peaceful expression, lying beside him, half-naked. She didn't even pretend to be embarrassed. The sheet covered part of her body, but not enough to hide the seductive curves of her figure.
He frowned.
"What... are you doing here?"
She yawned like a child woken too early.
"I move around a lot when I sleep. Sorry…"
"Get dressed. Now," he ordered seriously. "And go back to your bed."
She muttered something under her breath and jumped out of bed casually. Clint got up right after, quickly adjusting his clothes.
"One minute!" he called out toward the door.
Alucard replied from the other side in a teasing tone:
"From the sounds, you two must've had quite the night..."
Clint swung the door open with a cold, serious expression.
"Cut the jokes."
"Oh... so it was only a little fun." Alucard chuckled, spinning on his heel. "Come on. Today your life as a student begins."
---
As they walked through the Academy's busy corridors, Clint carefully observed his surroundings.
"Each wing is divided by year," Alucard explained casually. "First, second, and third years. Some advanced students are allowed to take upper-level classes... and apparently, you're one of them."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Today, you'll be with me. Fencing class. All third-year students are at least at stage 3 of the Mantra. Those who aren't, stay with the second-year group."
Clint nodded calmly.
"I'm at the peak of stage three. With effort, I can cover most of my body with the Mantra."
Alucard stopped, visibly surprised.
"Seriously...? I'm the strongest student at the Academy, and I've barely made it halfway through stage three... and I'm almost eighteen."
He crossed his arms and smiled with a mix of disbelief and admiration.
"You're definitely a monster. I hope you'll be on my side in the future."
"If you prove useful... maybe."
Alucard laughed.
"Straightforward as always."
---
The fencing field wasn't a typical classroom.
It was a large open space surrounded by viewing stands and stone bleachers, with markings on the ground indicating combat zones.
"This is the practical area for fencing and Mantra," Alucard said. "Duels are allowed here—as long as a teacher supervises, of course."
He pointed to a broad-shouldered man with scars on his face and arms crossed in the center of the field. The man's eyes locked onto Clint as if he had sniffed him out.
"That's the fencing instructor. Rumor has it he's at the peak of the fifth stage... It's rare to see someone at that level teaching."
The man approached, his steps firm and resonant.
"Clint Ravenhart..." he murmured, scanning him from head to toe. "I heard you were trained by Darius Thorne. Is that true?"
Clint nodded with a subtle motion of his head.
The teacher's eyes lit up with respect. He pulled down his collar, revealing a long scar across his chest.
"When I was younger, I challenged Darius to a duel.
He only needed two strikes. One to disarm me... and the other, to leave this."
He touched the scar reverently.
"Since then, I've never stopped admiring him. And now, to have one of his disciples training under me... it's an honor. Especially a Ravenhart."
There was a pause, then his voice hardened:
"But enough with the formalities. Let's begin."
He turned and shouted for the other students to gather in the center of the field.
Clint followed, while Emylle watched from afar, now dressed in the traditional maid uniform.
As he took his position, Clint noticed a figure in the stands.
Red hair cascading down her back, cold eyes locked onto him like hidden blades. Even from a distance, her aura was unmistakable.
"Iris of Kamira..." he murmured to himself.
She didn't smile. Didn't wave.
She simply watched him, as if waiting for his next move.
Clint looked away and moved discreetly toward Emylle.
"Tell that girl to meet me in my room. Tonight."
Emylle's eyes widened in surprise but didn't argue. She just nodded and stepped aside.
The game had begun.
And Clint… would play to win.