An awkward silence settled between them the moment she stopped in front of him, the air growing strangely heavy as neither of them spoke immediately, her fingers tightening slightly at her sides while Damon simply looked at her with a faint frown, clearly not understanding why she had approached him in the first place.
Her lips trembled.
Her eyes, already glistening, began to gather more tears as she struggled to speak.
"Y-you… you don't know me?"
Damon's brows furrowed further at the question, his gaze sharpening slightly as a thought crossed his mind.
Huh… is she someone the original owner of this body knew?
He leaned closer without hesitation.
His face moved near hers, his golden eyes locking onto her frightened green ones with an intensity that made her breath hitch instantly, his presence pressing down on her far more than he realized.
Startled, she instinctively took a step back as her foot slipped.
Her balance broke.
And just as she was about to fall—
Damon caught her.
His hand moved on reflex, steadying her before she could hit the ground, his grip firm as he pulled her upright, and for a brief moment their faces remained close, her breath uneven, her heart racing as she looked at him.
Then—
Recognition flickered in Damon's eyes.
"You…"
Hope lit up in her expression instantly, fragile yet bright, as if she had been waiting for that exact moment.
But then—
"You are in Class S… right?"
The words landed.
And just like that—
The light in her eyes vanished.
Her expression went blank for a second before she quickly straightened herself, stepping away as Damon let go of her, a deep red flush spreading across her face as embarrassment flooded in all at once.
Damon, seemingly unaware of the shift, glanced sideways at the floating white sphere nearby, his expression unchanged as if nothing significant had just occurred.
Then—
A small, almost ant-like voice reached him from the front.
"M-my… my name is M-Mira…"
She squeezed her eyes shut as she said it, as if bracing herself, then slowly opened one eye to peek at his reaction, her gaze cautious and uncertain.
Damon's face remained the same.
Blank.
Unmoved.
If anything, his expression only seemed to ask—
And?
The moment stretched.
And then—
Without another word, Mira turned and dashed away, her steps quick and unsteady as tears slipped from her eyes, disappearing down the pathway while Damon simply stood there, watching her retreating figure without moving.
Damon's gaze lingered for a brief moment in the direction Mira had run off before he slowly turned his head toward the floating white sphere beside him, the soft morning light casting clear shadows across the academy pathways as students moved in the distance, the atmosphere alive yet distant from the quiet tension around him; his expression settled back into its usual calm indifference as he adjusted the collar of his shirt slightly and spoke.
"I didn't break any rule there, did I?"
The sphere hovered steadily beside him, glinting faintly under the daylight before the Dean's voice emerged from it, not answering his question directly.
"Who was that girl?"
Damon let out a faint breath as if the question was unnecessary, his tone casual as he replied.
"Mira Halewind… heir to the Halewind County… and supposedly the girl my father arranged for my engagement."
There was no particular emphasis in his voice, no visible reaction attached to the statement, as if he were merely stating an unimportant fact rather than something that carried political weight.
He turned toward the entrance of the volunteering center, its white-and-gold structure gleaming under the morning sun, ready to step inside—
But the sphere moved slightly ahead of him.
"No need to go in there… I have already decided where you are to go."
Damon paused for a fraction of a second before shrugging lightly, accepting it without resistance as he gave a small nod and began following the floating sphere, his hands slipping casually into his pockets as they walked along the academy pathways, where students passed by in small groups, their chatter faintly audible in the background.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The only sound was the rhythm of footsteps and the distant hum of academy life continuing around them.
Then Damon broke the silence.
"When did you guess I knew her?"
The sphere drifted forward, the Dean's voice carrying a faint trace of amusement as she responded—not to his question, but around it.
"You almost got me… you looked exactly like someone who didn't recognize her at all."
A faint chuckle escaped Damon as he tilted his head slightly, his tone light.
"You know what they say… if you want to fool someone else, you first have to fool yourself."
There was a brief pause before the Dean asked, her voice more direct this time.
"But why did you do that?"
Damon's gaze remained forward as he answered simply.
"Just to spite my father."
The sphere gave a soft laugh.
"What's the real reason?"
Damon didn't respond immediately, his steps continuing at the same steady pace as his expression grew slightly more thoughtful, before he finally spoke again, his voice quieter but clearer.
"I just don't want to be a pawn for someone else's benefit… and I'm sure that girl would be better off without me… she's timid, overly innocent from what I can tell… and with everything that's going on with me…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
The implication lingered on its own.
The Dean let that settle for a moment before asking again,
"Then what are you going to say to your father?"
Damon shrugged lightly, as if the matter held little weight for him.
"He should have thought about that before not even telling me her name."
The sphere drifted slightly ahead, and the Dean's voice returned, sharper now.
"So all of this… was just to satisfy your ego?"
Damon laughed softly at that, not denying it, not confirming it either, simply letting the sound fade as they continued walking beneath the bright sky, the academy stretching wide around them.
For a moment, there was silence again.
Then the Dean spoke once more.
"But what was that girl's fault in all this?" her voice asked, quieter this time, yet carrying a pointed weight, "don't you feel anything… making her cry like that?"
Damon paused the moment her words settled, his steps coming to a halt as the white sphere beside him stopped as well, hovering quietly in place while a brief silence stretched between them, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried a calm certainty that did not waver.
"It's better for her to cry now… rather than later, when an intimate relationship is built on interests instead of feelings," he said, his gaze steady as if the thought had already been weighed and accepted long ago, "And when those interests shift… the relationship shifts with them."
He resumed walking.
"And that," he added after a moment, his tone quieter but heavier, "hurts far more."
A few steps later, he stopped again and glanced back over his shoulder, noticing that the white sphere had not moved from its place, still hovering where he had left it.
"Aren't you coming?"
The sphere drifted forward once more, and without another word, they continued, the rest of the walk unfolding in silence as the academy grounds gradually gave way to the outer gates, where the structure of the institution opened into the wider world beyond.
Damon stepped outside the academy for the first time in days under the bright morning sky, the transition immediate as the structured calm of the academy shifted into the liveliness of the city, and he paused slightly before speaking.
"Where are we going?"
"Just follow me," the Dean's voice replied from the sphere, carrying a faint edge of dry amusement, "and if you think I would need to take you somewhere else to kill you discreetly… you are fairly mistaken."
Damon coughed lightly at that, not bothering to respond as he simply followed along.
They entered the city.
The streets were alive with movement, merchants calling out to passersby, the aroma of cooked food drifting through the air as stalls displayed a variety of goods—some familiar, most not—ranging from glowing fruits to intricately crafted tools infused faintly with mana, and Damon's gaze moved across everything as he walked, observing quietly, taking in details of a world that still felt only partially known to him.
Gradually, the noise faded.
The crowd thinned.
The bustling energy of the marketplace gave way to a quieter section of the city, where the buildings stood with more space between them, the atmosphere calmer, more subdued, until they finally entered a secluded courtyard.
At its center stood a building that carried a quiet, grounded presence, not aged to the point of decay, yet touched just enough by time to feel lived in and real, its structure built from sturdy stone that still held its strength while bearing faint signs of years gone by, the surface smooth in places and slightly worn in others, as if shaped gradually by both weather and care rather than neglect.
The windows were tall and framed with polished wood, their glass clear yet softened by a warm tint that caught the morning light gently, allowing it to spill inside in a mellow glow rather than a sharp glare, while subtle carvings traced along the edges of the entrance and pillars, not extravagant but deliberate, carrying a sense of craftsmanship that had endured quietly.
The Dean's voice sounded again.
"You will be doing your volunteering work here for today."
Damon's gaze lifted toward the plaque above the entrance, where a name was engraved in refined script—
[Elaria's Heaven — Oldage Home]
He stared at it for a moment before shifting his gaze sideways toward the floating sphere, his eyes narrowing slightly as a thought crossed his mind.
Is she using this opportunity to scout ahead for herself…?
A faint chill brushed past him.
Then—
"You have quite interesting thoughts."
Damon's expression stiffened for a fraction of a second, and without responding, he turned and walked toward the entrance more quickly than before.
Can she read my thoughts…?
The question lingered in his mind as he stepped inside.