For a brief mont after Khaira’s voice echoed through the arena, the entire crowd instinctively followed the direction of her gaze.
Hundreds of eyes turned upward toward the top stands.
And there he was.
A white-haired young man stood near the railing, his golden eyes calmly eting the burning orange stare directed at him from the arena floor.
The silence stretched.
Then—
Damon simply turned around.
Without a word.
Without the slightest change in his expression.
He stepped away from the railing and began walking toward the exit of the stands.
The reaction was imdiate.
The arena erupted into murmurs.
"Wait—he’s leaving?"
"He’s not going to fight?"
From the sections occupied by beastn students, several of them clicked their tongues loudly in contempt.
"Tch. Humans."
"Always the sa."
"Cowards when it actually matters."
In other areas, human students reacted with equal hostility.
"That scum..."
"So he only knows how to bully weaker people."
"Look at him run when soone strong challenges him."
"Typical noble trash."
Yet while the first-year stands boiled with noise, another corner of the arena held a calr atmosphere.
A small group of second-year students had gathered there, watching the scene unfold with mild amusent.
One of them chuckled softly and leaned back against the railing.
"So much youthful energy," he remarked. "I can’t believe we were just like them a year ago."
The others around him nodded, a few laughing quietly in agreent.
Then one young man turned his head toward a woman standing among them.
"Isn’t that your fiancé?" he asked casually.
The woman remained silent for a mont.
Then she replied flatly.
"Ex-fiancé."
—
anwhile, Damon had already left the arena.
The sounds of the crowd faded behind him as he walked across the academy grounds, his boots sliding lightly over the smooth stone pathways that ran between the pristine white buildings.
His expression remained calm, but his thoughts were moving quickly.
Fight her?
Is she insane?
I don’t even know what this body’s resonance is , nor how to fight using it.
The entire concept was still unfamiliar to him.
Behind him, hurried footsteps approached.
"Boss! Boss!"
Eric ca running across the path, slightly out of breath as he caught up to Damon.
"Why did you leave?" he asked excitedly. "Weren’t you supposed to fight her in exchange for her taking care of that count’s girl?"
Damon didn’t slow down.
He didn’t even turn his head.
"I never agreed to that," he replied calmly.
Eric stopped walking for a mont.
His eyes began shining again.
"Ahhh..." he breathed out in admiration. "I still have so much to learn from you, Boss."
He hurried forward again and fell into step beside Damon.
Then he hesitated slightly.
"But... what if she causes trouble?" Eric continued nervously. "Or—or hurts ? Your best friend?"
Damon finally stopped walking.
He turned his head and looked at Eric.
The orange-haired boy’s expression was completely serious.
Damon stared at him for a mont before answering.
"What does that have to do with ?"
Then he continued calmly,
"And besides... if she actually wanted to cause trouble, she could have just issued a Binding Challenge directly to . Why go through such a roundabout thod?"
He resud walking.
Eric remained silent for a few seconds as he processed the logic.
Then his expression slowly beca more thoughtful.
"...Then what does she want?" he asked.
Damon didn’t answer.
He simply kept walking across the academy grounds, his gaze fixed ahead.
That’s exactly what I’d like to know as well.
But if my instincts are correct—
I would find out soon enough.
Without looking at Eric, he spoke again.
"Now go away," Damon said flatly. "I have things to do."
***
The student canteen of Crownspire Academy was far quieter than the arena had been.
Unlike the grand combat halls and training fields, this place carried a calr rhythm of everyday life. The architecture followed the sa refined aesthetic as the rest of the academy—sleek white stone pillars, long tables polished to a faint golden sheen, and wide crystalline windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. The glass panels were etched with delicate mana channels that softened the afternoon sunlight, bathing the hall in a warm glow that reflected off the pale marble floors.
Floating lamps drifted lazily near the ceiling, their soft light blending with the natural sunlight pouring in through the glass walls.
The entire space looked less like a cafeteria and more like a refined dining hall designed for scholars.
Yet despite the elegance of the place, the atmosphere was unmistakably that of a student canteen.
Groups of students sat scattered across the hall, talking quietly as they ate their als.
At one of the corner tables, where the afternoon sunlight fell directly across the table surface, Damon sat alone.
He looked down at the plate in front of him.
The al was simple.
Nothing extravagant—just a well-balanced serving of grilled at, vegetables, and bread, accompanied by a small bowl of soup.
A commoner’s al.
Yet the aroma rising from it was pleasant enough.
Damon took another bite and chewed slowly.
For a student canteen ant mostly for commoners... the food here is not bad.
At first glance, soone unfamiliar with the academy might assu the system was classist.
But that wasn’t entirely accurate.
The noble students rarely ate here.
Most of them brought their own attendants—personal chefs, servants, or family staff—who prepared als privately within their dormitories or residences. Because of that, the academy’s public canteen naturally beca the primary dining space for commoner students.
Damon took another calm bite as he continued thinking.
Now...
Let’s form a proper list of things I need to do.
His thoughts began arranging themselves thodically.
First.
My imdiate priority is to understand resonance... and to discover what this body’s resonance actually is.
That knowledge alone would determine his ability to survive in this world.
Hopefully that fluffy instructor will bother explaining it during tomorrow’s lecture.
He paused briefly.
If she doesn’t... then I’ll have to find another way.
He took another bite before continuing his internal planning.
Second.
I need to continue physical training with this body.
Even without understanding resonance yet, raw physical conditioning would always remain useful.
I must prepare this body to handle any kind of situation.
His thoughts moved to the next objective.
Third.
I must make sure I end up in Class S during the placent examinations.
That class would gather the strongest students in the academy—the true elite.
The cream of the crop.
And where power gathered, influence followed.
I will need to form connections with them.
If I can use them effectively, I will be able to control far more variables around .
As for the story’s supposed protagonist—
Damon’s expression remained unchanged.
Lucian.
I don’t particularly care what happens with him.
As long as he doesn’t cross my path.
Finally, his thoughts settled on the longer road ahead.
My long-term goal... and one of the most important ones.
Is to build my own business.
An independent foundation.
Power that did not rely on the Valecrest family.
What kind of business?
How to start it?
Those questions could not be rushed.
For now... I will focus on the priorities in front of .
By the ti his thoughts reached that point, his plate was empty.
Damon rose from the table, placing the utensils neatly beside the dish before pushing the chair back.
"Let’s see what that woman is doing," he muttered quietly to himself.
He turned and walked out of the canteen.
The mont he left—
Several students who had been sitting stiffly throughout his al finally exhaled in relief.
Multiple breaths escaped the hall at once.
The murmurs started imdiately.
"Why... was he eating in the commoner cafeteria?"
"And acting like it’s completely normal?"
***
By the ti Damon reached the dormitory building, the afternoon sun had begun to soften, casting long golden reflections across the academy pathways. The building itself carried the sa restrained elegance as the rest of Crownspire—quiet corridors where the footsteps of passing students echoed softly.
He walked straight toward the reception desk.
Just like earlier, the staff mber sat behind it with his back turned, seemingly absorbed in whatever task occupied him.
Damon stopped in front of the desk.
"I didn’t get my Manacron," he said calmly.
The man did not turn around.
Without even looking back, he casually tossed sothing over his shoulder.
The small object spun through the air.
Damon caught it effortlessly.
Without another word exchanged, he turned and headed toward the staircase.
The object in his hand was a small square device made of smooth tal and glass, about the size of a pocket watch but thinner. As he walked up the stairs toward the third floor, he turned it over in his fingers, examining its design with mild curiosity.
How exactly am I supposed to wear this thing?
He tried placing it against his wrist experintally.
The mont it touched his skin, the device reacted.
Thin tallic bands slid out from its sides with a soft chanical click and wrapped themselves smoothly around his wrist, adjusting automatically until the fit was perfect.
The device lit up.
A faint blue screen appeared above its surface.
Scanning...
Damon continued walking.
By the ti he reached the third-floor corridor, a soft ding sounded from the device.
The screen changed.
His na appeared, along with a small profile image.
Damon Valecrest.
He glanced at it briefly.
"I’ll look through the features later," he muttered.
Reaching his door, he pushed it open and stepped inside.
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
Damon’s eyes swept across the space.
The bed was empty, the desk was untouched.
"...Where is she?" he murmured.
Then he heard it, a faint sound.
Not from the room, but from deeper inside.
A muffled rustling.
A slight struggle.
Damon’s entire posture sharpened instantly.
His hand moved instinctively, his body shifting into alert readiness as his gaze locked toward the bathroom door.
"Who’s there?" he called out sharply.
Then, after a brief pause—
"Is that you, woman?"
The sound inside suddenly grew more frantic.
A panicked voice called out from behind the door.
"Young master! I’m here—in the bathroom!"
The urgency in her voice made Damon react imdiately.
He crossed the room in a few quick strides and pushed the door open.
And then he stopped.
Completely.
For a mont, his mind simply failed to process the scene in front of him.
Did I just transmigrate into a...
...porn scene?
Because directly in front of him—
The very undeniable sight of a plump pair of juicy buttocks beneath the fabric of the maid uniform.
User Comments
0 comments from readers