Seraphina stood over him, her practice sword pointed at his neck.

The sixth time in a row.

Ronan sighed and raised his hand in surrender.

They weren’t allowed to use any mana. No skills, no spells, nothing Ronan specialized in.

Just pure weapon skill, and he had none.

"I yield."

Seraphina lowered her blade and extended her hand.

Ronan took it, letting her pull him upright.

His ribs ached. His shoulders burned. Bruises on bruises were layered on his body.

"You’re a fast learner," she said. "I’m surprised you got a hit in at the end there."

That had happened. He got one hit in, which was definitely better than before, but he had a feeling the princess was going easy on him.

"If the princess herself is complimenting me, what else is there in life to strive for?"

Seraphina’s expression didn’t change. She simply backed up, raising her wooden sword again.

"Ready?"

Ronan felt every bruise screaming at him to stop.

His legs wobbled slightly, but he forced himself up.

"Ready."

They moved.

Seraphina shot forward towards him with the same controlled fighting style. It was clear she was going easy on him, and even despite that, he couldn’t do much. He parried her first strike, and she instantly lowered her stance, delivering a blow straight to his abdomen.

"Ghhk!" Ronan doubled over, but the strikes didn’t stop.

But she was going easy enough to where Ronan could manage, and her strikes weren’t too brutal either.

The spar ended with the same result. A sword at his neck.

Ronan let out heavy breaths.

"Let’s take a break," Seraphina said, not looking tired at all.

They stepped aside, watching as the other battles commenced with Selene watching over like a hawk.

Ronan took this chance to ask an important question.

"Why weren’t you at the inter-class war?" Ronan asked, drinking his water.

Seraphina’s brow furrowed slightly. She clearly didn’t like being asked that question, and he was sure many people asked her that as well.

"There was a last-minute decision," she said, "to pull me from the war due to my royal blood."

Of course he already knew about that.

When the inter-class war was pitched to the King, he was instantly against it. The nature of the battle was too violent, and he didn’t want his precious girl to get injured.

He didn’t pick it up.

"Did you agree with it?"

Seraphina paused, not expecting that question it seemed.

"My opinion is irrelevant on matters like those."

"So you would have attended if you had the choice?"

She huffed. "Of course. I am not some child to be coddled. And it is completely unfair as well."

It was. She didn’t have to do the inter-class war, but her position in S class remained the same. She also didn’t have to go through the purge.

Seraphina got back up.

"Will you still be attending the runic arts club?"

Ronan lowered the water flask, meeting her gaze.

"Yes."

Seraphina nodded once, satisfied with that answer, then moved away to prepare for another round.

Before they could continue, Selene’s voice cut through the training field.

Students lowered their weapons, their faces showing mostly relief. Sweat, bruises, and exhaustion was present on everyone equally.

Almost everyone, Ronan thought as he looked at Luca, Seraphina, and some of the other main characters.

"This was just the beginning," Selene continued, arms crossed. "Combat classes will get increasingly harder as the days go by. If you thought the Inter-Class War was difficult, you will quickly learn what real pressure feels like."

Grace audibly groaned from somewhere behind Ronan.

"I’m going to die before I even graduate."

Ronan glanced toward her, catching Grace already looking at him.

Her expression shifted the moment their eyes met, and she looked away rather quickly.

He’d expected her to have already approached him by now, but for some reason she hadn’t.

She remained the greatest anomaly in his calculations.

He would go talk to her eventually.

But not yet.

He was busy, and he would rather steer clear from her until she made any other big moves.

—

Ronan arrived at the Ashbourne estate gates shortly after classes ended via a magic carriage. The trip wasn’t too long.

There was a cat draped across his shoulder, and her claws were pressing into him, showing him what she thought of the magic powered carriage.

Aura had insisted on accompanying him.

She wanted to see his family dynamic firsthand, curious about the people who raised the original Ronan and somehow "produced the current mess" in her words. She was also apparently bored at the Academy.

Ronan agreed without resistance, not really caring if she accompanied him or not. Having her there might actually be useful, and watching her pretend to be a pet cat would be entertaining.

So here she was, tail swishing against his back.

The gates opened without fanfare, and Ronan walked the familiar stone path toward the main house.

Servants bowed as he passed, their eyes lingering briefly on the cat on his shoulder before returning to their tasks.

Lucia appeared at the entrance before he reached the doors, her expression lighting up the moment she saw him.

"Young Master Ronan," she greeted warmly. "Welcome home."

"Lucia," Ronan replied, matching her warmth easily.

He opened her affection screen out of habit.

[Character: Lucia]

Affection: 67

Trust: 68

Loyalty: 81

Nothing had changed there. Good.

Lucia’s gaze shifted to the cat on his shoulder, and her eyes softened immediately.

"Oh my," she cooed, stepping closer. "Where did you get such a beautiful creature?"

Ronan lifted Aura off his shoulder and held her out.

"My new pet. Thought I’d bring her along."

Lucia didn’t hesitate. She took Aura gently into her arms, cradling the cat like it was made of glass.

Aura tensed immediately, her purple eyes flashing with irritation, but she didn’t move.

Ronan had already warned her.

No suspicious behavior. Act like a normal cat, or the entire trip would be pointless.

Aura bristled slightly under Lucia’s touch, her tail flicking once in obvious displeasure, but she didn’t resist.

"What’s the kitty’s name?" Lucia asked, scratching behind Aura’s ears.

Ronan smiled.

"Princess."

A small hiss escaped Aura’s throat.

Lucia didn’t notice. She was too busy petting Aura’s head and murmuring nonsense about soft fur and adorable little paws.

"Princess," Lucia repeated, beaming. "How fitting. She’s so regal."

"She is, isn’t she. I think she was a princess in a past life."

Ronan watched as Aura’s glowing eyes locked onto him with barely contained fury.

He kept his expression neutral.

"Is everyone ready?" Ronan asked, shifting the conversation before Aura decided the mana contract be damned.

Lucia looked faintly embarrassed.

"Yes, everything is prepared. I’ll lead you to the room now."

Ronan nodded, and Lucia handed Aura back to him.

The moment she was free, Aura clung to his shoulder, digging her claws in just enough to make a point.

Lucia led them through the estate’s familiar halls, past tapestries bearing the Ashbourne crest and windows overlooking the training grounds. The silence was heavy, formal, and entirely expected.

They reached a set of massive double doors carved with flame motifs and a massive Ashbourne symbol.

Aura crawled on top of his head to get a better view.

Lucia pushed the doors open, and light shone through for a brief second.

Inside, three people waited.

Vulcan Ashbourne sat at the head of the table, his presence as commanding as ever, eyes sharp and unreadable.

Irene stood beside him, arms crossed. Her expression was neutral, gaze focused solely on Ronan.

And at the far end of the room, seated with perfect posture and holding a cup of tea–

Victoria Ashbourne.