Run, swim, climb, run, fight, hammer, comprehend. Over the course of several days, this became their sole routine. Awake by three, exhausted by midnight.

Somehow, most of the cadets still couldn’t seem to get used to it. Each day, they ended up more exhausted than the last. It became a regular occurrence to see cadets dragging themselves through the fortress like corpses. Every day, at least a dozen or so were sent home. Their numbers steadily dwindled.

Regardless, Zephyrion came out on top in every single training. Even as the other cadets slowed during runs or grew too exhausted to fight properly, his energy seemed boundless.

Unfortunately, this only fanned the flames of their hatred.

What started as low whispers became jeering looks. Eyes grew colder, harsher, and ridiculous rumors spread. The most insane of them had been about his disappearance. Apparently, he had ’run’ away from home just to get his father’s attention, proving his selfishness.

By the end of the week, practically every cadet hated his guts.

The Calderalths, especially Kaiden, wanted war. It took Zephyrion directly telling them to leave it alone to stop them. Yet they still gritted their teeth and glared at any cadet who dared stare or whisper as they passed.

Lumi had been unfazed at first, but as it became increasingly obvious, her eyes grew colder and colder. Then, on a day when she saw a few cadets pointing their way as they passed, laughing, she stopped, changed direction, and slowly walked toward them.

Her killing intent froze the two entirely in place.

Zephyrion stopped her before she could murder someone.

After that, he decided they needed a brief talk.

"This matter... I want you to let it go."

Lumi blinked, tilted her head, then signed, asking what matter he was talking about.

Zephyrion stared at her. She was clearly pretending. She had realized exactly what he was doing.

"The cadets. Don’t attack them because of me."

Lumi’s eyes widened in realization. Then she smiled brightly and quickly shook her head, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"...you just wanted to talk to them?"

The same girl who had looked ready to erase them from existence.

Lumi nodded enthusiastically with an innocent smile.

Zephyrion was speechless, meeting her unwavering gaze. Realizing he’d have a much better chance convincing a wall, he sighed.

"...Just don’t attack anyone. Alright?"

Lumi’s smile stretched a little wider.

Zephyrion did not like that smile.

Like he’d expected, his words had fallen on deaf ears. He still had to step in before she pierced a few throats. At this point, he was simply grateful they went practically everywhere together.

The only exception to the hatred was Draven, though Zephyrion would rather the giant stayed far away.

Ever since his defeat during the first team battle, he had acted as though they were long-lost brothers. Whenever he spotted Zephyrion in the hall, he would grin, wave enthusiastically, then barrel toward him in an attempt to, as Draven called it, engage in a brotherly hug.

Zephyrion avoided it every single time. Eventually, the giant got the message and stopped trying. Then he shifted targets. He tried hugging Lumi instead.

Zephyrion’s gaze could have frozen an ocean.

Fortunately, Lumi vehemently shook her head. Zephyrion watched the giant awkwardly scratch the back of his head, doing his best to hide the corners of his own lips threatening to curl upward.

Still, the cadet’s hatred only seemed to get worse. Soon, the first major incident came.

"Who... who the fuck did this?" Kaiden growled, his eyes like a beast’s.

They had always used the same set of tables in the mess hall. But one of them, the one where Zephyrion and the main Calderalth castes sat, was now riddled with deep scratches and vulgar drawings.

It had been vandalized.

Zephyrion took the brief moment to glance around the hall. Excitement flickered in many eyes. It was impossible to tell who had done it. Still, they had chosen the mess hall for this. A public place. They wanted everyone to see it.

It was probably arranged by the Saboteur, the name Zephyrion had given the one working against him.

Many cadets in the mess hall hastily shrank back and looked away. Regardless of all the hatred, Calderalth was still the giant of the south. None of them would dare openly challenge one of its own.

"So nobody’s going to own up?" Kaiden nodded, cracking his knuckles. "Fine. Then I guess it’s about time we reminded you bastards who—"

"Kaiden."

Kaiden whirled around and met Zephyrion’s eyes.

"Leave it."

Kaiden stared at him in disbelief.

"Leave it? You see what they did? Somebody’s paying for this, or—"

Zephyrion simply stared.

Kaiden’s words died in his throat. He ground his teeth so hard they audibly cracked before letting out a sharp huff.

Zephyrion glanced at the rest of the Calderalth youths. Every one of them stood with clenched fists and gritted teeth. He gave a small nod, telling them to let it go.

Without waiting for a response, he walked to the table and waved a hand. Metal flowed across its surface, covering every scratch and carving. Then he sat down and began eating in silence.

The cadets looked relieved and, at the same time, stunned. Many of them, upon seeing the vandalism, had expected the worst. None had imagined Zephyrion would simply act as though it didn’t matter.

They couldn’t help but stare at the Lightning Prince skeptically.

Unfortunately, every single soul in the hall missed it; the chilling coldness hidden in Zephyrion’s eyes.

...

"The cadets are responding well to the training, Major. The dropout rate has fallen significantly since we started. At this rate, I expect it to stop altogether within a few weeks. This year’s batch is promising."

Seated behind her desk, Ingrid nodded at the report, not looking away from the paper in her hand.

"Also..."

Sensing the hesitation, she lifted her head.

Before her stood the assistant house commander, a slender, toned man with broad shoulders, a shaved head, and a clean-shaven face. Roen was older than her, yet weaker. He had been an instructor here back when she attended. Now he answered to her. Sometimes, his bitterness slipped through the cracks.

"What is it?"

"Well..."

"Speak."

"It’s about the prime."

Her brother? Ingrid instinctively straightened.

"...What about him?"