Morning light falls through the windows of boy's luxury dorm room, reserved for high nobles. Liana stood outside the door, composed and dutiful. She knocked lightly. "Young Master Leo?"
No response.
Her frown deepened as she knocked again, louder this time. "Young Master Leo? Are you there?"
Silence.
Concern flickered across her face as she hesitated before opening the doorthe room was empty, unnervingly quiet. "Where could he have gone?" she murmured, her heart racing.
Sweat formed on her brow as panic crept in. "Did something happen to him?" she asked aloud, her voice trembling.
"Sorry for disappointing you," a familiar voice came from behind.
Startled, Liana turned sharply to find her young master leaning casually against the doorframe. His training outfit was damp with sweat, crimson eyes faintly amused. "Nothing happened to me," he said dryly, stepping inside.
Relief hit her hard as her eyes welled. "Why would you make me worry like that?" she said, her voice quivering.
Reo blinked, slightly taken aback. "Ohh, ohh," he said, raising his hands. "Just joking, alright? Don't cry."
[Nice, you made her cry!]
Shut up.
[.....]
Liana quickly wiped her eyes, her tone firm but soft. "That wasn't funny, young master Leo."
"Yeah, yeah, my bad," Reo muttered dismissively. "Prepare my uniform and bring me coffee. I'll need it after my bath."
She tilted her head. "Coffee? You usually prefer tea."
Reo paused before a faint smile appeared. "Tea reminds me of someone I'd rather forget," he said quietly.
Liana nodded, sensing it was best not to ask further. "As you wish, young master."
Grabbing a towel, Reo turned slightly toward her. "We need to go buy some this evening."
"Yes, young master," she replied dutifully.
Without another word, Reo disappeared into the bath, the door clicking shut behind him.
—
The sun sent long stripes of light streaming through the academy's high windows, its golden light stretching across the highly polished marble floors of the corridors. Reo strode with a quiet rebellion, his bronze ID brooch glinting in the sunlight as it hung loosely on his uniform. His shirt collar was open, and a book lay lightly in his hand.
"Is that really Leonhardrt?"
"What's he doing so calmly here? Shouldn't he be groveling?"
"He looks… off. I mean, look at him. Something might happen in that forest."
Reo was aware of the whispers, but his expression remained neutral, unbothered.
His thoughts, however, wandered. Why does the Bronze Class hallway have to be so ridiculously far from the central building? It's like they want us to remember we're the lowest. He sighed inwardly.
Whatever. I'll use the walk as part of my training.
Turning the corner, Reo's path abruptly stopped. A group of six girls blocked the hallway, they have golden ID brooches.
They stood confidently, chatting among themselves until they noticed him. The moment their eyes landed on him, the conversation died. Silence fell over them and all attention shifted to the boy walking toward them.
At their center stood Elara Valcourt.
Even from a distance, her presence was striking—calm, poised, undeniably beautiful. But Reo's crimson eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of annoyance breaking through his otherwise collected expression. Of course, he thought. Of all people, I ran into her this morning.
Elara stiffened visibly, her wide blue eyes locking onto him in a mixture of surprise and disbelief. The other girls quickly followed the pattern, their faces shifting into guarded expressions. Some looked openly uncomfortable, while others barely hid the disdain etched into their features.
One of the girls—a short-haired tomboy who seemed to radiate a fierce, protective energy—stepped forward, her stance firm and unyielding. Astrid. Elara's best friend and, unsurprisingly, one of Leonhardrt's harshest critics.
"What you doing here?" she demanded.
Reo stopped, meeting her gaze with calm look. "Class," he replied flatly.
Astrid's frown deepened, her irritation clear. "Are you stalking Elara again?" another girl snapped, stepping forward with accusation in her eyes.
Whispers rose around them as the watching students fed on the tension.
"He's at it again?"
"Doesn't he ever learn?"
"He'll never change."
Reo raised an eyebrow, his tone nonchalant as he pointed at the path ahead. "No. You're blocking the way."
The bluntness threw the girls off. Astrid faltered, glancing back at the others for support. Before she could speak again, Reo tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Unless you plan on accusing me all morning," he said casually, "maybe move. Or are you trying to be bodyguards forever?"
His boldness left the girls visibly flustered. They exchanged an uneasy glances, realizing their position.
They stepped aside reluctantly, giving way.
Reo continues walking, his gaze fixed firmly ahead. He passed Elara without hesitation, his expression unchanged. He didn't spare her a glance, didn't even acknowledge her at all. This, more than anything, left the onlookers stunned.
"He didn't even look at her."
"Is that really Leonhardrt?"
"Did he actually change after the attack?"
Elara's gaze lingered on his retreating figure, her thoughts unreadable. She said nothing, but her curiosity was clear.
—
The Bronze Class classroom was old and neglected. The walls were cracked, the windows dusty, and the desks worn from years of use.
Reo stood in front of his desk, staring down. Words and drawings were carved into the wood in large, jagged letters.
useless,creep,die.
Reo's expression stayed calm, his crimson eyes lingering on the cruel carvings. For Leonhardt, this desk would've been a bitter reminder of his place. For Reo, it was something else entirely—cold focus, not fear.
The classroom was silent. The other students sat stiffly, their heads bowed, avoiding his gaze. Even Flank, the boy sitting beside him, stayed silent, his eyes glued to the floor.
"Who did this?" Reo asked. His voice was calm, but sharp enough to slice through the quiet.
No one answered. The tension in the room thickened, the silence dragging on. Flank shifted uneasily in his seat but stayed silent. Reo's gaze swept the room.
They all know, he thought. They're just too scared to say it.
A mocking voice broke the silence. "Wow, someone really has it out for you, huh?"
Reo turned, his crimson eyes landing on Mori. Tall, lanky, and smug, Mori sauntered toward him with a grin plastered across his face. A few of his lackeys followed, chuckling quietly.
Mori, the self-proclaimed leader of Bronze Class 2A and an underling of Garrick, enjoyed making others squirm.
"Creep, useless, just die," Mori said, tapping the desk like he was admiring an art piece. "Looks like someone worked really hard on this. Gotta wonder what you did to deserve it."
Reo didn't react. He stared blankly at Mori, unbothered by his words. The rest of the class sat frozen, their fear palpable.
Mori leaned in closer, his grin widening. "Come on, buddy. You must've done something. Hate like this doesn't just show up."
Still no response.
Mori's grin tightened in irritation. He chuckled, then draped his arm over Reo's shoulders like they were friends. It was a familiar move—Mori's favorite trick to assert control. Start playful, tighten the grip, then wait for his victim to beg.
"You really shouldn't stir things up," Mori said, his tone light but laced with a warning. "With an aura as fake as yours, you might want to keep your head down."
He tightened his grip, his arm pressing harder. But Reo didn't flinch, didn't shrug, didn't move. His crimson eyes dropped back to the desk, calm as ever. Mori adjusted his grip, adding more pressure, but froze when he felt it. Reo's muscles weren't soft anymore. They were firm, unyielding.
In a flash, Reo grabbed Mori's wrist with the precision of a seasoned killer, twisting it in one fluid motion. Before Mori could react, Reo yanked him forward and slammed his face into the desk with a loud thud. The impact echoed through the classroom, followed by a collective gasp from the students.
Mori's lackeys stepped forward but froze under Reo's sharp, crimson glare. He held Mori pinned to the desk for a moment, his grip unyielding, his voice cold and steady. "I don't like repeating myself—stay out of my way."
Reo released Mori with a slight shove, letting him stumble back, clutching his face. A red mark bloomed across Mori's cheek, his eyes wide with shock and humiliation. Tears welled up as he gasped, his smug grin replaced by fear.
The classroom fell deathly silent, every student frozen as they realized the "useless" Leonhardt wasn't so useless anymore. Flank's hands trembled, his eyes wide as he stared at Reo like he was seeing a stranger. A few students whispered in hushed, awed tones.
"Did you see that? He didn't even flinch…"
"Mori couldn't do anything—he's done for."
Reo's thoughts flickered to his past life. I'd have snapped his neck by now. Lucky for him. He exhaled quietly, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping the desk with calm, deliberate movements, as if nothing had happened.
Mori staggered back, his face burning with shame. His lackeys hesitated, unsure whether to step in. Before Mori could speak, the door creaked open, and the history professor entered.
"Take your seats," she said briskly, her tone firm.
Mori shot Reo a venomous glare, his voice a low hiss. "This isn't over," he muttered, retreating to his seat with his lackeys.
Reo ignored him. He sat down, crossing one leg over the other, his crimson eyes lifting to the front of the room, calm and unbothered. He tapped the desk lightly with his finger—a subtle, silent warning that sent a chill through the room.
The whispers continued, low and insistent.
"He took down Mori like it was nothing…"
"What's changed? Who is he?"