Chapter 42: Awake and Alive

"Good evening, Your Highness. I believe you had a well-deserved rest."

The voice pulled Agni up from the fog.

He blinked.

His mind was still somewhere else—still in Frostwind Tundra, his left hand burning, Flame Burst straining at its limit as he reached toward Senior Raul. That last instant, that feeling of mana tearing through his circuits—

Then everything had gone black.

Pain crashed into him a second later, delayed but brutal. His whole body ached, like he'd been slammed into the ground from a great height. His chest tightened so hard he couldn't breathe. He coughed, air refusing to move, vision tunneling as his eyes bulged.

A firm, steady hand pressed against his sternum.

"Easy," the old man said. "You have recovered physically, Your Highness. Breathe. Your body is awake, but your mind is a bit behind."

Agni forced himself to take a deep breath.

The soreness slowly dissolved, like ice melting under sunlight. The crushing weight on his chest eased. His vision cleared, the world snapping back into focus.

He coughed once more, lighter this time, and pushed himself up into a sitting position.

He was wearing a plain white patient robe. The sheets beneath him were crisp and smelled faintly of herbs and disinfectant. The room was bright—white curtains, white walls, light-gold trim. Clean.

Doc Aldous stood beside the bed, nodding approvingly. "Better?"

Agni looked up at him.

Long white beard. White irises that seemed to look through him rather than at him. Face unreadable, professional.

"Yeah," Agni muttered. "Better."

Who are you ? He didn't focus on the thought too long.

“ I'm Grand Physician Aldous” , Aldours spoke as if reading Agni's mind.

“Also your family doctor”.


“Right”, He glanced around again.

Medical equipment lined the walls—mana monitors, crystalline IV stands, floating diagnostic orbs that pulsed with soft blue light. The air smelled faintly of medicinal herbs and... lavender.

It was a lot different from waking up in his usual quarters.

Agni blinked, then sighed, the sound escaping his lips like a deflating balloon.

"So... I lost?" he muttered, voice rough.

Doc Aldous blinked, his expression unreadable behind his thick white beard. "I believe the answer to your worries lies here."

He reached over to the bedside table and picked up something—a cloth armband with symbols.

He placed it gently in Agni's hands.

Agni stared at it.

The sword icon—representing combat evaluation—had a symbol in gold beside it:

S-Class.

"You skipped everything," Lyralei said, exasperated. "So just focus on killing as many monsters as possible. Stronger ones are worth more points. We both need to get into S-Class, which requires at least one thousand points."

Agni's breath caught. "So I... won?"

Doc Aldous blinked again, his white eyes—studying Agni's face carefully. "I can't answer that definitively, Your Highness. Times have changed since my own days at Aethermoor Academy."

He paused, then added, "But I can certainly say you haven't failed."

Agni turned the armband over in his hands, the book icon—representing written exam scores—bore a different symbol:

C-Class.

He looked up at Doc Aldous , whose face remained blank, unreadable as stone.

"You make it sound scary," Agni muttered.

"Do I?" Aldous 's distilled voice continued. "Perhaps. Now, what comes next is a few checkups."

He gestured to the medical equipment around them. "I believe you are physically fine, but your magical abilities need to pass some tests before I can clear you for active duty."​

Agni glanced down at the armband again, fingers tightening around the fabric.

S-Class combat. C-Class written.

He looked around again. "So… am I in the academy hospital? Or back home?"

"You are in the east district from the academy, Your Highness," the doctor replied. "The academy cannot put a grain of sand on the same scale as this facility."

He adjusted his glasses. "This estate was arranged by Lady Lyralei and the other heirs."

"...Right."

"What a pain," he muttered, sinking deeper into the pillows.

His eyes went distant, blank, staring at nothing.

Doc Aldous watched him for a moment, then leaned forward slightly. "Do you wish to attend the Freshers' Party, Your Highness?"

"Freshers'… party?" Agni repeated.

"Yes. Everyone is currently at the event—results have been announced, awards distributed. It's the traditional celebration for first-years."​

Aldous 's tone shifted, becoming more pointed. "But if you do go, please don't eat anything at the event. I've prepared light food for you—soup that Lady Suzzy made diligently. You need to ease your system back into normal function."

A section of the wall slid aside with a soft hum, revealing a hidden closet. Neatly arranged inside were five copies of the Aethormoor Academy uniform—pressed, clean, in his size.

"Your clothes are on the hanger," the doctor said. Then he fell silent, clearly waiting for Agni's answer.

Agni looked down at the armband again.

Freshers' Party.

He thought about the balls and banquets back home—fancy events he’d been told to attend but always skipped. Too noisy. Too political. Too fake.

Is this going to be another one of those?

He exhaled slowly. "I think… I'll attend."

It didn't take long to freshen up.

Agni washed quickly, scrubbing away the lingering medicinal smell and the faint stickiness of sweat. The water was warm, almost too warm, and it felt good against his sore muscles.​

He dried off, pulled on the academy uniform.

Then he sat at the small table near the bed and ate.

The soup Suzzy had made was simple—soft vegetables, seasoned lightly with herbs. It was warm, comforting, and slid down his throat easily. He drank water with it, feeling his body slowly wake up fully, energy trickling back into his limbs.

He washed it down with water, then swung his legs off the bed.

"Doc Aldous ," he called out, "where are the clothes I wore before? My original academy uniform?"

The old physician appeared from the adjacent room, eyebrow raised. "In the storage compartment, Your Highness. Why?"

Agni stood, walking over to the compartment. He dug through it—past folded shirts and trousers—until his fingers closed around something small and soft.

He pulled it out.

A white cloth napkin, slightly wrinkled, with a yellow sun embroidered in the center.

Agni stared at it for a moment, thumb brushing over the stitching.

He folded it carefully and slipped it into his pocket.

Then, without another word, he left the medical ward.

Doc Aldous blinked, staring at the empty doorway. "Ah... he left before I could tell him not to use magic until after the checkup."

He sighed. "Young people."

"East from the academy, huh…?" Agni muttered as he stepped out into the cool evening air.

The Sun Mansion loomed behind him—elegant, quiet, lanterns glowing along the pathways. For a second, he almost turned back.

Then he clenched his jaw and ran.

He sprinted through the streets, boots striking stone, lungs burning. The wind slapped against his face.

He could feel something stirring in his chest—not just mana, not just adrenaline.

Excitement.

"Damn it," he breathed between pants. "Since when is running this fun…?"

He skidded to a stop at a crossroads, chest heaving. A vendor selling apples blinked at him.

"Excuse me— where is Aethormoor academy "Agni asked.

"Next right," the vendor said, pointing.

As the vendor head tilted , after answering the absurd question.

"Thanks."

Agni pushed off again, rushing through familiar stone corridors now dressed up with decorations—floating lanterns, banners bearing the academy crest, enchanted arrows pointing the way to the Grand Ceremonial Hall.

By the time he reached the entrance, he was panting hard.

He stopped just outside the doorway, catching his breath. His black hair clung to his forehead, and sweat trickled down his neck. His uniform, at least, still looked mostly presentable.

"Yikes," he muttered, one hand on his stomach. "Maybe I ran a bit too much…"

He reached into his pocket.

His fingers closed around a small, folded square of cloth.

He pulled it out—a white napkin with the Sun Empire's golden sun embroidered at the center. Lyralei had given it to him on his first day, when he'd shown up looking like he'd crawled out of the sewers more than a royal carriage.

Now, he unfolded the napkin and wiped the sweat from his forehead, his cheeks, the back of his neck.

He straightened his uniform, took one more breath, and stepped inside.

The Grand Ceremonial Hall was awash with light and sound.

Teachers lined the edges like watchful shadows. Long tables were stacked with food—platters of meat, rows of pastries, bowls of fruit.

Students filled the space in clusters—laughing, talking.

Agni froze for a split second, taking it all in.

He opened his mouth, ready to ask himself the obvious question.

Where is Lyralei?

He didn’t have to.

His eyes already knew where to look.

He saw her —standing….

She was standing with Draekon.

They weren't laughing or smiling. They weren't leaning close or touching. But her expression…

Soft.

Not forced. Not cold. Not the sharp, cutting mask she normally wore when dealing with people who annoyed her.

Her face was calm. Collected.

Agni blinked.

Suddenly, the exhaustion he'd been outrunning caught up to him all at once. It was like someone dumped a mountain of sand on top of him—His throat went dry, the air scratching on the way down.

His fingers clenched around the napkin so hard the embroidered sun crumpled in his fist.

He swallowed.

The music kept playing. Students kept laughing.

Agni stood there at the entrance, chest heaving, staring at the two of them.

He didn't move at all.