Rein moved through the dark like something that had never possessed a body to begin with.
His focus was locked onto the Shapeshifter’s movement ahead—every step mapped, every pause measured.
Every burst of speed, every angle of turn, was calculated to interlock—so that figure could serve as a moving “shield,” letting him slip cleanly through the manor’s detection field.
Having a skilled “guide” made it disturbingly easy.
Rein threaded through Whitmore Manor’s Detection Field as if he were simply walking behind a key that had already unlocked every door.
Until that route brought him to a stone balcony at the back of the building—abandoned to a dim, neglected gloom.
From his hiding spot, Rein noticed something he hadn’t expected.
A portion of solid stone wall—so seamless it looked like part of the structure—shifted and rotated without a sound when the Shapeshifter brushed it lightly.
A hidden pivot door—concealed with surgical precision.
Rein seized the sliver of time before it sealed shut—
and shot forward after it.
…
Inside a secret corridor, he snapped Mana Vision on.
Faint reactions—thin, lingering traces—clung to the stone floor and walls.
The residue told him enough—the Shapeshifter had used Haste as well.
Rein half-walked, half-ran down the narrow passage to the next turn—
and the instant he cleared the corner…
Everything was empty.
The Shapeshifter was gone. Without a trace.
“It can turn invisible?”
Rein frowned.
No one should be able to bypass Mana Vision without leaving something behind—some hint of power for him to catch.
Normally, the mana mass needed to sustain a spell would bleed a thermal signature, or warp the air enough for Mana Vision to detect.
But what he saw was only blank space—
as if the Shapeshifter had melted into the air itself.
[LIZ: This doesn’t look like ordinary invisibility, Rein… There’s a possibility this place has a ‘hidden route’ built from materials that can suppress mana traces.]
“This is the Spencer mansion or what…? Why is it nothing but puzzles?”
Rein muttered, letting out a quiet breath.
With no trail to follow, he had to rely on instinct—on his own mental model of the manor’s layout.
He moved carefully along hallways lined with expensive carpet meant to swallow footfalls.
But just as he was about to turn the next corner—
Metal rang against stone—multiple sets of heavy armor—closing fast.
Rein froze.
His senses processed it at once: heavy armor—no fewer than five guards—walking straight toward his position.
No place to hide.
Rein swept his gaze for the only escape—
his hand darted to the brass knob of an oak door at his side and twisted.
Lucky.
It wasn’t locked.
He slipped inside and shut the door with a breath of silence—exactly as the Whitmore bodyguards passed the room.
…
The room he’d ducked into was a small guest lounge.
Small… and lavish in a way that mocked its own size.
The walls were lined with deep crimson velvet, broken by carved woodwork in twisting vine patterns. A faint scent of expensive incense hung in the air.
[LIZ: That was close. You just spent another lucky card.]
Rein acknowledged silently, holding still until the footsteps outside thinned and faded.
Behind the iron mask, his gaze swept the room—
and at last he found an “exit” that wasn’t at eye level.
“That’s… a vent?”
He tilted his mask slightly, staring at a brass-patterned grille tucked neatly into a corner near the ceiling.
As he edged closer, Sophia’s familiar, furious voice spilled out through the metal duct—clear enough to taste.
“So the conference room is nearby…”
Rein’s eyes narrowed.
“Did the Whitmores build ‘ventilation’ just to turn it into a ‘listening channel’… or what?”
He cast Levitate.
His body rose smoothly into the air, and his fingertips worked the vent cover free with the gentlest precision.
The opening was just wide enough for him.
Rein slipped inside—
and began crawling through the ice-cold metal tunnel.
…
He could feel vibrations—sound traveling through metal—guiding him like a wire pulling him forward.
He followed the echo…
until pale light from below seeped through another grate and washed across his vision.
He was directly above the grand conference chamber.
From the vent’s high angle, Rein watched the verbal clash between Sophia and William for a while—
until a new pressure slammed into the room—
a single, massive presence.
And with it, a large man in an expensive fur cloak stepped in.
[LIZ: Target confirmed… That is ‘Alexander Whitmore.’ Third-year mage. Current Student Council chairman and supreme leader of the Winter Faction. Mana level: confirmed within Primary Stratosphere-tier.]
A dim blue text window hovered in front of Rein within the vent’s darkness—information that made him narrow his eyes with care.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
[LIZ: And the two behind him… First: ‘Oliver Pembroke,’ Necromancy specialist. He has been using surveillance shadows to collect data on you for the past two days.]
Rein studied the man walking close behind Alexander.
Oliver’s skin was pallid—like someone who never met sunlight. His long black hair fell loose and unruly, yet carried an unmistakable scent of death.
A single strange earring. A silver necklace bearing a cryptic symbol at his throat.
A long black robe that looked heavy, swallowing his body whole.
“Do necromancers all dress like this…” Rein murmured, “or is their idol Ozzy Osbourne or something?”
His gaze slid to the last one entering—
a red-haired girl, vivid and dangerous in a way that made the room feel hotter just by her presence.
[LIZ: That is ‘Charlotte Russell.’ Codename: ‘Forbidden Witch.’ Third-year student from the Department of Enchantment. Specialist in curses and mind control. The Russell family is also one of the kingdom’s major power brokers in Arcadia—masters of connections.]
Charlotte walked with effortless confidence.
The smile at her mouth belonged to someone who was used to having the upper hand in political games.
…
Through the brass grille, Rein swept his eyes down to the conference table.
He saw Henry and Isabella seated calmly near Sophia, who still wore a sour, impatient scowl.
Spring Faction’s core pieces seemed to be present in full.
Winter still had one chair left empty.
Not long after, the oak doors opened again.
The final group entered—
led by a young man with an eerie kind of distinctness.
Composed. Dark blue hair.
A blindfold wrapped over his eyes—covered in ancient runes. He moved like a blind man leaning on a cane—
yet he walked straight to the empty chair with perfect accuracy, as if he saw everything with unnatural clarity.
[LIZ: That is ‘Edward Cavendish.’ Third-year mage. Representative of an old summoner lineage. Highly skilled in Summoning Magic. Rumors say he ‘sacrificed both eyes’ to form a blood pact with a high-tier beast.]
“Hm…” Rein whispered. “So the ones behind him must be the independents.”
Two girls followed Edward in.
One of them was a healer Rein didn’t recognize.
He knew instantly—by the pure white trim of the Department of Healing cloak, and the armband marked with the symbol of a sword crossed with a serpent: a universal sign of restorative mages.
“Like the Red Cross back on Earth,” Rein guessed silently.
[LIZ: The white-haired girl with that serene demeanor is ‘Catherine Spencer.’ Daughter of House Spencer. Third-year student being positioned as the next High Priestess after Master Chloe… During the academy breach, she was deployed on the front line to purge undead around the council building—so you never had the chance to meet her.]
Rein frowned beneath his mask.
“Hold on, LIZ… how do you know this much? I don’t remember ever reading that senior’s profile.”
[LIZ: Oh, please. While you were busy slapping that challenge notice onto the board out front, I wasn’t just sitting around. I scanned the Student Council commendation plaques posted right beside it and saved everything. It explicitly says she received high commendation in that incident. As for the rest— I simply processed it further using the student registry database I’d already read.]
“Wait—LIZ. Are you secretly digging through people’s private information behind my back?”
[LIZ: Secretly? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just running a Memory Playback from things your eyes saw in passing—things your brain didn’t bother to store. That’s all, Rein.]
Rein slowly shook his head, deciding—wisely—to stop arguing with his mischievous AI for now.
“Fine. Then what about the other one?”
[LIZ: The short blue bob-haired girl is Victoria Montague. Third-year. Independent Faction. She comes from a lineage tied to Water Magic.]
Tch. Elemental Magic really was a den of monsters.
No wonder they had enough budget to wrap a dome in gold like it was pocket change.
Pressed flat against the cold metal duct above the conference chamber, Rein let the thought turn quietly in his head.
Once everyone settled into their seats, Alexander began the meeting at once.
At first, it looked orderly—procedural, almost polite.
But it didn’t take long for the air to twist.
The moment the murder case was pulled into the room, it was dragged—cleanly, efficiently—into the mud of politics.
Winter Faction opened fire on Spring with savage momentum.
They accused Spring of exploiting the nobles’ absence—granting Rein Investigator authority to “investigate,” all to gather ammunition and tear down the old power bloc.
“It doesn’t matter whether that first-year brat is truly guilty or not!” Oliver snarled, veins swelling along his corpse-pale face. “This is about protecting the honor of this council—worms and insects—nothing but commoners—won’t be allowed to stain it!”
“Exactly,” William Stirling nodded, adding with the lofty ease of a man dusting off a table. “If he isn’t guilty… then we simply find a way to make him guilty. It’s not complicated.”
“Commoners should remember who rules— and who the real mages are!” Edward Cavendish ground his teeth so hard the blindfold over his eyes trembled. His voice trembled with raw hatred.
“Just thinking that trash like him stepped foot into the Academy makes me sick.”
Henry tried to argue—calmly—that a wrongful judgment would rebound and destroy the council’s credibility.
But reason was swallowed whole—devoured by the stubborn pride of noble heirs who valued power above all else.
Alexander lifted a hand, slow and deliberate—signaling William to quiet down.
“It’s fine, William.”
His tone was even. Almost gentle.
“In a moment like this, we shouldn’t be fighting among ourselves. Because no matter what… tomorrow’s duel will end the same way: the Student Council will take victory—and that boy will be punished in front of all the Academy.
The words were calm.
The pressure behind them was not.
“Right or wrong… we’ll prove it with magic,” Alexander continued, fingers interlaced beneath his chin—the posture of a composed arbitrator. “That is the way of mages, isn’t it?”
His gaze—sharp, reflecting chandelier-light—swept the table.
Then he dropped a line that made several people freeze.
“Since this is a matter of the Student Council… we should have representatives from each faction participate together. We shouldn’t push the burden onto Winter alone.”
“What—?!” Sophia snapped, irritation flaring. “You idiots accepted the challenge yourselves! Why are you dragging us into it?”
“I’ll say it again, Sophia,” Alexander smiled—pleasant, and full of teeth. “This is a fight in the name of the Student Council. Not merely a Winter matter.”
He leaned back, like a man offering generosity he never truly intended.
“Or if you disagree… we can vote on it. Right now.”
“No need to vote,” a voice cut in.
“I’ll fight as the Independent representative.”
Victoria Montague—the blue-bobbed girl who had been sitting in silence with arms crossed—spoke at last.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, saturated with bitterness.
“All of it… to avenge Amelia.”
Above the ceiling, Rein murmured under his breath.
“Heh… Alexander’s a damn snake. He won’t spend only his own pieces—he’s borrowing someone else’s hand to kill.”
“See?” Alexander gave a soft chuckle. “We already have the Independent representative.”
His eyes slid to the next target.
“Then Winter will send one as well. William—are you willing to take this duty?”
“Huh… me?” William pointed at himself, confused—hesitating.
“Why not?” Charlotte’s voice purred in, smooth as poison. The red-haired girl who had been silent until now tilted her gaze at William, openly provocative.
“Your House Stirling is the heir of the ‘Disciples of the God of Thunder,’ isn’t it?”
She paused—just long enough to hook him.
“You’re really going to let that first-year be ‘recognized’ as the next would-be Disciple of Thunder, just because of a rumor?”
Charlotte leaned closer, lowering her voice like a secret offered to the chosen.
“And in tomorrow’s duel… there’s no rule against weapons.”
If you want to bring that… no one can truly stop you, can they?
Her smile turned slow—languid, sweet enough to rot teeth.
“If you’re a real man, you should show the entire academy who the real one is.”
“…Fine!” William roared, ego ignited—fed by Charlotte’s allure and the trap she’d set. “Then I’ll crush him in front of everyone—so they’ll see who the true Disciple of Thunder is!”
Every gaze at the table swung toward Spring Faction on the far side—
a silent pressure demanding the final piece.
In that suffocating quiet, the black-haired girl—cold, composed—spoke.
“Then… for Spring Faction, I’ll fight.”
Isabella’s face was still as winter water.
Her voice was so steady no one dared contradict it.
“Wait—Bella!” Sophia blurted, startled. She knew exactly how dangerous this was.
“It’s fine, Sophia,” Isabella turned and gave her friend a small nod—an unshakable confirmation. Then she faced the council chairman again.
“Good,” Alexander said, narrowing his eyes at the noble girl before him.
“But there’s one condition.”
“You will not hold back against that first-year commoner. Not even slightly.”
His gaze sharpened, openly threatening now.
“Every one of us will be watching you. And don’t think you can put on a performance and fool us.”
Alexander searched her emerald eyes—hunting for hesitation, for doubt, for a crack.
Above them, Rein processed everything at once.
He could read Alexander with painful clarity.
The chairman had never trusted Isabella—not for a second.
And this duel was his tool: a vise.
Prove your loyalty… or give him an excuse to remove you from the board—along with Rein.
But Isabella was deeper than anyone expected.
She rose to her full height—and stared Alexander down.
Dark mana began to seep outward from her like night spreading across stone.
“I give my word,” she said, voice cold and unwavering.
“In this duel… I will be the one to deal with him—with my own hands.”
These entries expand the lore and mechanics introduced in this chapter.
Completely optional—read only if you enjoy diving deeper into the system.
Key Character
Alexander Whitmore (Update)
Faction: Winter
Title: Student Council Chairman, Leader of Winter Faction
Tier: Primary Stratosphere
A composed and calculating political operator who masks ruthlessness behind polished diplomacy. His leadership style is rooted in power consolidation and strategic manipulation, as shown when he forces other factions to join the upcoming duel—both to legitimize the punishment of Rein and test internal loyalties.
Oliver Pembroke (Update)
Faction: Winter
Specialization: Necromancy
Notable Traits: Uses surveillance shadows and dresses in full black robes, with death-like pallor. His behavior and style evoke classic gothic imagery—Rein jokes he could be cosplaying Ozzy Osbourne.
Update: Actively hostile toward Rein and Spring Faction; prioritizes noble bloodlines and mage supremacy.
Charlotte Russell
Faction: Winter
Codename: Forbidden Witch
Specialization: Curses and Mind Control (Department of Enchantment)
Background: From a powerful noble family with deep political connections. A manipulative strategist who pushes William Stirling to fight Rein by exploiting his ego.
Update: Plays a psychological role in influencing key pieces on the board through seduction and insinuation.
Edward Cavendish
Faction: Winter
Specialization: Summoning Magic
Notable Trait: Wears a blindfold covered in ancient runes; it’s rumored he sacrificed his eyes to form a blood pact with a powerful summoned beast.
Update: Deeply prejudiced against commoners and outwardly disgusted by Rein’s presence.
Catherine Spencer
Faction: Independent
Background: Daughter of House Spencer
Role: Healer (Department of Healing)
Symbol: Armband with a sword crossed by a serpent, a universal sign of restorative mages.
Update: Being groomed as the next High Priestess after Master Chloe; previously deployed to purge undead during the academy breach.
Victoria Montague
Faction: Independent
Specialization: Water Magic
Background: Noble lineage tied to elemental control. Joins the duel out of personal grief and unresolved emotions tied to Amelia.
Update: Confirms the emotional weight behind the duel isn’t just political—it’s personal.
Isabella (Update)
Faction: Spring
Update: Volunteers to represent Spring Faction in the duel, but under a cloud of suspicion. Alexander sees her as a liability and pushes her to prove loyalty by showing no mercy to Rein. Her dark mana and defiant gaze show she’s ready to take control of her own narrative.
Sophia (Update)
Faction: Spring
Update: Protests Isabella’s decision but is ultimately overridden. Continues to be Spring’s outspoken firebrand but is beginning to see the complexity of the political battlefield.
Mana Suppression Architecture (Hidden Route)
A portion of the manor is constructed with materials that suppress mana traces—preventing detection even by Mana Vision. It hints at high-level craftsmanship and paranoia within noble estates.
Ozzy Osbourne
Rein jokes that Oliver’s necromancer getup makes him look like he’s cosplaying Ozzy Osbourne, the “Prince of Darkness.”
Spencer Mansion
Direct reference to the Resident Evil franchise—specifically the mansion from the original game, filled with hidden passages and puzzles.
