The fireplace in Room No. 13 had been lit.

  Flames danced across the stacked logs, pushing back the cold that clung stubbornly to the air.

  Their orange-gold glow felt alive—warm and breathing—far more comforting than the pale, sterile light of a mana lamp.

  Rein lay stretched across the narrow wooden bed in the quiet, almost lonely room.

  The previous Rein had owned nothing more than a single threadbare blanket—nowhere near enough to survive an Aetherian winter where snow fell without mercy.

  But that was no longer a concern.

  At LIZ’s suggestion, he had begun using a technique known as mana circulation to regulate his body temperature.

  According to basic first-year textbooks, mana circulation was the controlled rotation of energy from the Core Mana Circles near the heart through designated pathways across the body.

  Most mages dismissed it as tedious theory—useless, even—preferring to force mana directly into their hands or feet for offensive casting.

  But during a full day of intense training and combat—repeatedly activating Haste and Might Enhance—Rein had noticed something important.

  The faster mana flowed through the internal junctions of his body,

  the higher his internal temperature climbed.

  [LIZ: I’ve been observing your mana flow patterns. You tend to let excess energy leak away. Why not redirect it—loop it back from your limbs into the Core Mana Circles instead? Train it as a closed-loop system—until it becomes as natural as breathing.]

  The result was almost miraculous.

  Rein discovered that he could create an internal heating system—one that functioned even while resting or asleep.

  The orderly circulation of mana stabilized the warmth of his blood, wrapping him in a gentle heat that felt like sunlight on skin.

  “Perfect…” he murmured softly, a faint smile forming as drowsiness finally claimed him.

  As mana continued to circulate in a calm, sealed loop,

  his consciousness slipped into sleep.

  …

  …

  In the darkness of the dream, Rein found himself standing face-to-face with another young man—

  one who shared his face, his body, his every feature.

  But the eyes of this other Rein gleamed with mockery.

  That voice—sharp and echoing—declared itself the real Rein—branding him a low-grade Shapeshifter.

  A mere impostor.

  The proof it offered struck deep.

  His inability to refine mana—his failure to break past the Troposphere barrier—as though he were an alien presence in this world.

  Suddenly, Guardians and student council members—the same ones he had encountered recently—swarmed in, restraining him from all sides.

  As he struggled desperately, the other Rein stepped forward.

  A hand plunged straight into his chest.

  And tore out his heart.

  It was not red.

  Instead, it was bound tightly by jet-black chains—

  like a cursed object imprisoned for countless years.

  “—Hrk—!”

  Rein jolted awake, gasping.

  His hands flew to his chest instinctively, sweat soaking his face and back despite the cold air that still fogged his breath.

  The phantom pain from the dream lingered—sharp, then fading.

  He rose and walked toward the small window above his desk.

  Outside, a night of snowfall painted the world white.

  The first sunlight of morning brushed the horizon, streaking orange-gold across the pine tops like the stroke of a master’s brush.

  “…Morning already,” he murmured.

  The peaceful reality before him felt impossibly distant from the chaos of his dream.

  After finishing his routine in the washroom, the cold water cleared the last of the fatigue from his mind.

  Rein returned to the old wooden chair, facing the window where faint frost still clung to the glass.

  His fingers interlaced beneath his chin.

  “If Shapeshifters are still walking around out there… then no one in the Academy is truly safe. Living like this—constantly suspicious—

  that’s something I hate.”

  [LIZ: The bigger issue is that we still don’t know what their next move is.]

  Rein stared at the dull gray sky.

  The snowfall had stopped—but it felt more like an intermission before the next storm.

  “Maybe their first objective was to take over the student council. And the second… was to eliminate a variable like me.”

  [LIZ: Not surprising. The number of people who dislike you probably outnumbers your fans by a wide margin.]

  Rein let out a quiet snort.

  “Remember what you said? That I wandered into the middle of their chessboard by accident—and became something they couldn’t calculate.”

  [LIZ: I remember perfectly. And even if I can’t smell it anymore, you’ve probably still got that pile of crap you stepped on glued to the sole of your shoe.]

  He nodded, fingers tapping rhythmically against the wooden desk.

  “…At the scene, Lance’s body showed massive internal damage from Ice Lance. But there’s one thing I’m sure remained intact.”

  [LIZ: You mean his heart.]

  “Yes. My first hypothesis is that the Shapeshifters needed it—to replace someone with influence in the student council.

  But when I stormed the council building at an entirely unexpected moment, they were forced to abandon the original plan—and improvise…”

  “…setting a trap to eliminate Isabella immediately.”

  [LIZ: You shattered their clean substitution plan—and dragged three council members in as eyewitnesses to Lance’s death.]

  Rein frowned, something still refusing to settle in his thoughts.

  “You’re right. The swap could never succeed if someone discovered the body too early.

  But the real question is—why Isabella?”

  He looked up.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Judging by how the Reaper attacked last night, it wasn’t trying to take her heart. That was a straight execution—removing an obstacle.”

  [LIZ: Which means Isabella either knows something… or she’s actively blocking the Shapeshifters.]

  “That’s my conclusion as well,” Rein said quietly, rising to his feet and flicking the moisture from his cloak.

  [LIZ: Then their attack on you last night was retaliation—for interfering with their larger plan?]

  Rein froze, cloak suspended midair.

  His eyes sharpened.

  “Not just elimination,” he drawled.

  “They want my heart too.”

  [LIZ: What makes you certain?]

  Poison Bolt killed the Twins, with each shot piercing directly through the heart.

  But when they used Delay Casting on me—none of the shots targeted my chest. Every single one went for the head.”

  He glanced sideways.

  “And headshots are far harder than aiming for a large target like the torso.”

  [LIZ: …I’ve replayed the footage. You’re right. That is strange.]

  “The problem is—we don’t know how many Shapeshifters currently embed themselves in the council. Who’s an ally. Who’s an enemy.”

  [LIZ: Or how many are among the faculty.]

  Rein nodded, draping the cloak over his shoulder.

  “Same situation. There are only five people I’m absolutely certain aren’t impostors—the Five Disciples of the Academy. Mesosphere-tier mages.

  That level of power simply can’t be replicated.”

  He gave a short, humorless laugh.

  “Anyone can fake a gun or a bomb with comparable output…

  but no one can fake a nuclear warhead, right?”

  Turning back to the white morning beyond the window, he retrieved the note taken from Lance’s body—reading it once more, engraving every word into memory.

  “17:00. Same place. Operation 60% complete. — AW”

  Rein’s smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, his eyes brimming with a kind of mischief no opponent could easily read.

  [LIZ: What’s your next move?]

  “Yesterday, we caught one fish,” Rein said lightly. “But today… we’re tossing a bomb into the water instead.”

  He tilted his head, as if savoring the image.

  “Let’s see how the fish thrash when the whole pond detonates.”

  …

  …

  At noon, in front of the enormous notice board outside the Central Library, the Academy’s usual calm had turned feral.

  Students from every year came flooding in—running, pushing, craning their necks—until a dense ring formed around a single massive sheet of paper, still smelling of fresh ink.

  The roar of voices swelled—layer upon layer—until reason itself was drowned out.

  “Hey… seriously— is something like this even allowed?”

  “That bastard—who does he think he is, pulling a stunt this insane?”

  “Wait, that rule… it’s real?”

  “I heard… first to third place at AGMT get a special right. One time only— they can declare a private duel, if they’re willing to gamble their honor medal.”

  “Holy shit… this has gone completely off the rails!”

  Joanna stood frozen at the edge of the crowd, eyes wide—her breath caught somewhere between shock and dread.

  That morning, Rein had come to her with an oddly simple request—the largest sheet of paper she could possibly find.

  But she had never imagined he’d use it to shake the Academy like an earthquake—one felt by everyone at once.

  Because the conflict between commoners and nobility within the Academy has escalated beyond control, this issue must be ended.

  The root of the problem lies with certain nobles who have become deluded—believing their bloodline makes them more worthy of magic, and looking down on commoners as unfit to learn the arcane arts.

  As a commoner myself, I hereby issue a challenge duel to prove our worth—against a representative of the Student Council, limited to those who support the Traditionalist Faction (nobility), in order to end this conflict once and for all.

  Signed: Rein Rhys

  First-year mage student

  (Representative of the Commoner Side)

  Special privilege holder by virtue of winning AGMT

  Wager: AGMT 68th — Third Place Honor Medal

  “You’ve lost your mind!”

  Ingrid’s voice echoed through the silent hall of the Vault, loud enough to feel like it bounced off the stone itself. Master Chloe, seated at her heavy wooden desk and signing documents, could only shake her head—one corner of her mouth lifting as though she found the chaos entertaining.

  “Why would you post something that reckless?” Ingrid snapped, eyes blazing. “And if they actually accept—what then?! What are you going to do?!”

  Her face was flushed with fury laced with worry. If Master Chloe hadn’t been in the room, she would’ve already grabbed the thickest book on the table and cracked it straight over the idiot’s head.

  Rein put on a perfectly blank expression. He raised a blue vial and downed it in one go—then immediately grimaced, like he’d swallowed poison on purpose.

  “Mmm… Mana Potion,” he muttered, forcing out a dry laugh. “Still tastes like poison. Consistently.”

  Then, without missing a beat—

  “But you’re yelling such raw passion… which means you’re definitely not a Shapeshifter.”

  “Yeah?!” Ingrid exploded, arms crossed so tight it looked like she was trying to snap herself in half. “If I were a Shapeshifter, I’d be scooping your brain out and squeezing it for fun!”

  She glared daggers.

  “You never think before you act. What are you risking yourself like this for?!”

  Rein shifted on the small wooden chair amid messy paperwork and the scent of hot tea. He scratched at his already-messy hair and glanced toward Master Chloe.

  “Oh, Ingrid,” Master Chloe cut in smoothly, eyes lifting with quiet amusement. “I’m guessing Rein intends to drag every problem into one place… and solve it in a single sweep. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes,” Rein said simply.

  “The Academy, the student council—both have been infiltrated by Shapeshifters. Finding the real culprit now is like searching for a needle in the ocean. They hide in the dark. We stand in the open.”

  He set the empty vial down. Glass met wood with a clean, ringing knock.

  “So you’re building a stage,” Master Chloe concluded.

  “Yes,” Rein nodded. “If they love hiding, then I’ll use myself as bait. I’ll throw a huge party—lure the entire school of fish into the same pond…”

  His eyes cooled.

  “…and then I’ll seal the pond and deal with them all at once.”

  Master Chloe stopped signing. She looked up properly now, gaze sharpening.

  “And if they see through it?” she asked. “If they refuse to step into the pond you’ve dug?”

  Rein lifted a teacup and took a slow sip, washing the bitter aftertaste from his throat.

  “Even if they know it’s a trap,” he mumbled,

  “they’ll still have to come.”

  Ingrid’s brow twitched. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I have this.”

  Rein reached into his cloak and placed something onto the desk.

  A twisted silver iron mask, smeared with dried blood. The metal etched the violence of the fight into itself, even in its mangled state.

  “This… is it?” Ingrid leaned forward with a disgusted frown. “The Shapeshifter’s iron mask you told us about?”

  “Yes,” Rein said, smiling faintly. “The assassin who copied Master Bloom.”

  “And what are you going to do with it?” Ingrid demanded. “Expose Shapeshifters and threaten them? You said it blew itself into dust. This wreck of a mask isn’t going to scare anyone.”

  Rein leaned back, tapping a finger once—soft, deliberate.

  “No,” he said. “I’m not going to threaten them.”

  He smiled.

  “I’m going to fake being one of them.”

  “…What.”

  Ingrid’s face detonated.

  “Are you insane?!” she roared. “You absolute moron!”

  This time, her rage doubled so fast she actually grabbed a wooden chair beside her—raising it like she was about to throw it and cure stupidity by force.

  A soft knock interrupted from outside.

  It wasn’t loud, but it carried enough weight to make everyone freeze.

  Master Chloe lifted a hand slightly.

  The heavy door of the Vault opened with a smooth, obedient motion.

  A tall young man stepped in—silver hair catching the firelight, glasses neat and unadorned, his presence calm—and unbearably cold. The mana around him was quiet, controlled—yet it felt like winter itself had walked into the room.

  “Master Darian!” Ingrid gasped, dropping the chair back down so quickly it nearly hit her foot.

  “Oh?” Darian greeted mildly, sweeping his gaze around—then stopping on Rein… and the iron mask on the desk.

  He adjusted his glasses with unhurried precision, strolled up, and—without asking—sat down on the chair Ingrid had just set down. Then he picked up the teacup on the desk and poured himself tea with the careful grace of someone performing a ritual…

  …in the middle of a battlefield.

  “Hah…” Darian took a sip, sighing softly. “That’s better. It’s freezing outside.”

  Rein could only stare.

  Even as Darian’s fingers touched the cup, thin frost began to form along the rim. The cold radiating from him was so intense the room’s temperature visibly dropped.

  Wait… Rein thought flatly. You’re the kind of guy who turns a room into a freezer just by existing—

  and you’re telling me you feel cold too?

  Darian set the cup down.

  “The student council has formally accepted your challenge.”

  He went straight to the point, voice level.

  “The duel will take place three days from now at the arena of the Department of Elemental Magic.” The Winter Faction has decided to send three representatives.”

  His gaze sharpened behind the lenses.

  “As for the time—since you are the challenger, you have the right to choose.”

  “After sunset,” Rein answered instantly, lifting his own tea to take a sip.

  Darian’s brow lifted a fraction, surprised—then he nodded.

  “So on my side,” Rein continued, “I’m allowed to recruit two teammates to make it three as well. Correct?”

  “Indeed.” Darian’s voice remained calm, cutting through the chill. “Under the protocols of an equal duel, you are entitled to seek assistance.”

  He set the cup down with a soft, precise clink.

  Then his eyes locked on Rein’s—sharp enough to feel like a blade.

  “But if you want to enter alone… one versus three—”

  The corner of his mouth moved, not quite a smile.

  “…I doubt they’ll object to your faith.”

  These entries expand the lore and mechanics introduced in this chapter.

  Completely optional—read only if you enjoy diving deeper into the system.

  Magic and Spell Techniques

  Mana Circulation (Closed-Loop System)

  A refined mana technique involving the controlled flow of mana from the Core Mana Circles throughout the body and back. Instead of allowing excess energy to disperse, users redirect it into a continuous loop. Benefits include passive thermal regulation, improved internal mana stability, and the ability to maintain body warmth even while resting. Rein adapts this concept into a form of “internal heating,” effectively using his own mana as a heat source during harsh winters.

  Items and Artifacts

  Iron Mask

  A twisted, bloodstained iron mask recovered from the Shapeshifter who impersonated Master Bloom. Rein intends to use this item to fake being one of them, creating a psychological operation to bait the real Shapeshifters out during the upcoming duel.

  Other

  Honor Medal Duel Clause

  A hidden clause in the Academy’s AGMT (Arcadia Grand Magic Tournament) rules grants the top 3 winners a one-time right to issue a formal challenge duel against any member of the Student Council. Rein uses his Third Place Honor Medal to trigger this clause and force a high-profile confrontation.

  The Duel (Three vs Three Format)

  An officially sanctioned combat match under Academy law. As the challenger, Rein can select the time, location, and invite two teammates—though Darian implies going solo would also be permitted. Rein selects after sunset, possibly for tactical reasons.