Silence enveloped the lecture hall. The professor silently surveyed the students' faces.

  No one spoke up. Don't make mistakes—though no one had said such a thing, tense pressure dominated the space.

  "Um... does that mean the other boxes also contain magic stones?"

  Eventually, one student spoke up timidly.

  "Hmm. Which boxes do you think?"

  Professor Maxwell asked back in a calm tone. But the student faltered, no answer forthcoming.

  "...Perhaps the rightmost box?"

  A voice rose again. Its owner—was Delio again.

  "Oh? Your reasoning?"

  "Yes. From the rightmost box, like the second box earlier, I sensed a faint trace of magical power. I'd assumed it was merely residue from your own magical power, Professor, but judging from your words now, I believe it is also from a magic stone."

  Professor Maxwell nodded with satisfaction.

  "Good answer. What's needed isn't 'guessing' but 'discrimination.' You doubted my residue. I praise that attitude."

  The professor opened the rightmost box and extracted a small magic stone. The faint light it emitted was clearly weaker than the stone in the second box.

  "A bit mean-spirited perhaps, but this attitude of doubting even basic premises is important."

  The professor surveyed the hall.

  "In magical power detection, the most dangerous thing is assuming 'this is everything.' In research, development, experimentation, and on battlefields—that preconception becomes fatal."

  The students' expressions tightened.

  "Now then, let's check the remaining answers."

  The professor's gaze—caught me.

  "Dylan Belmond. Your gaze shifted earlier. You have the look of someone who has found their answer."

  At the sudden designation, surrounding gazes gathered at once. Apparently, the professor had seen right through me.

  "All the boxes contain magic stones."

  I answered briefly, concisely. The hall buzzed.

  "Oh? Your reasoning?"

  "Each of the five boxes had faint 'fluctuations' of magical power. They varied in strength, but none were a complete absence."

  "Hmm..."

  The professor stroked his beard and nodded quietly.

  "Correct."

  The remaining three boxes were opened one after another, revealing magic stones of different sizes.

  "Splendid, Master Dylan."

  Professor Maxwell praised briefly. Small applause arose from the surroundings. Observing Delio's reaction at the edge of my vision—like the other students, he clapped with a genuinely impressed expression. No special emotion could be read. Just a normal student's reaction.

  "What I most wanted you to understand from today's exercise—"

  The professor paused.

  "Is that magical power is always multilayered."

  Several students nodded.

  "If strong magical power exists, weak magical power hides. If clear intent exists, background noise gets ignored. But—"

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

  The professor's voice resonated lowly.

  "On battlefields, or before unknown magical tools, that 'hidden thing' will decide your fate."

  Heavy silence descended. Those words held a double meaning for me. He wasn't just talking about magical power detection. Whether you could discern what was hidden behind people also decided your fate.

  "Of course, I am aware of the opinion that constantly maintaining such vigilance is unsustainable."

  The professor added that and surveyed the hall.

  "The point is whether you can do it consciously when it matters. Remember that well. Today's lecture ends here."

  Professor Maxwell concluded his lesson, turned his deep navy robe, and left the hall.

  The lecture ended, and students left the hall in small groups.

  "Master Dylan, that was splendid!"

  Roy addressed me with an excited voice.

  "No, it just happened to be a field I'm good at."

  While being modest, I tracked the red-haired figure at the edge of my vision. Delio was surrounded by several students, seemingly fielding questions from all sides. While smiling gently, he answered each one carefully. He was apparently quite popular. Though he had enrolled recently, he was already at the center of the circle.

  "As expected of House Belmond! Did you receive magical power training from childhood?"

  Roy asked with undisguised, pure interest.

  "...Well, the basics."

  I answered vaguely. Actually, this magical power detection wasn't the result of a marquisate's elite education, but hard-won skills I'd desperately scraped together while secluded in the mountains. But saying that honestly wouldn't look good either.

  "As expected! I'll have to work harder too!"

  "Yeah. Just don't overdo it."

  "I won't! Thank you!"

  Parting from Roy, I headed to the hall exit. Delio's figure was already gone, having disappeared into the corridor with his entourage of students.

  ...Ended up not talking to him after all.

  What I learned today was that Delio's abilities were real. And—at least on the surface—none of that dark shadow from the original story existed anywhere around him.

  'Dylan, you're curious about that redhead, aren't you?'

  ...Well, yeah.

  'Why? There are lots of excellent students at the academy, aren't there?'

  At that question, I was at a loss for an answer. Should I mention the Truth Seekers? No, making a fuss without certainty wasn't wise.

  He just caught my interest. Don't worry about it.

  'Hmph, keeping secrets?'

  Lou made a dissatisfied sound but didn't pursue it further. I was grateful, yet slightly apologetic.

  "Master Dylan, excellent work."

  Martha, waiting in the corridor, called out.

  "Ah, sorry to keep you waiting."

  We started walking side by side. Afternoon light streaming through the corridor windows cast long shadows on the stone floor.

  "How was today's lecture?"

  "Well... various things happened."

  "Various things?"

  Martha tilted her head slightly but didn't press further.

  "By the way, a letter arrived from Master Claudio."

  "From my brother?"

  My feet stopped at the unexpected news.

  "Yes. He apparently reported to the master about the Spirit Society. Regarding your conduct, Master Dylan—it earned a passing grade."

  "...A passing grade."

  A very brother-like evaluation. Whether I was being praised or had merely cleared the minimum requirement was a delicate line.

  "He also included some advice about your conduct at the academy."

  I halted. The fact that my brother bothered to put it in a letter meant it was surely important.

  "...What did he say?"

  "'Deepen friendships with your fellow students.'"

  "Friendships...?"

  I deflated at the vaguer-than-expected advice.

  "Yes. Though your conduct at the Spirit Society was a passing grade, he wonders if you're lacking in socializing during your regular academy life."

  That stung. Indeed, besides Oscar, I had almost no one I could call a proper friend. Roy was only my second real conversation today, and Erna was less a friend and more... well, a complicated relationship.

  "Particularly, the recent rumor apparently reached Master Claudio's ears as well."

  "Eh."

  My voice caught.

  "...Which rumor?"

  "The 'Rejected Prince' incident."

  Martha looked apologetic—yet somehow her lips seemed to twitch as if fighting a smile.

  "...Ah."

  I pressed my hand to my forehead. That dishonorable nickname had reached even my brother's ears.

  "Master Claudio says, 'Getting rejected by a woman isn't the problem in and of itself.'"

  "...And?"

  "'The problem is the carelessness that allowed it to spread as a rumor.'"

  It was too sound an argument to refute. Though it had actually been part of the engagement-breaking operation with Erna—I couldn't exactly explain that to my brother. The engagement matter wasn't official; it was proceeding beneath the surface.

  "In other words, socialize more to overwrite the rumor?"

  "Precisely. Master Claudio says, 'Even as the second son, you must have the awareness that you bear the Belmond name.'"

  Quite right. I exhaled deeply.

  Socializing...

  Something Oscar had told me repeatedly. I was aware of it. And I had an aversion to it. The superficial socializing typical of nobles just didn't suit me.

  But—I didn't have the luxury to take my brother's advice lightly. Whether gathering information or investigating Delio's background, connections were weapons.

  "Understood. I'll take my brother's advice to heart."

  "Yes!"

  Martha smiled with satisfaction.

  "—Now then, Monster Studies next?"

  "Master Dylan... that doesn't change anything."

  Martha interjected with a wry smile.

  "I'll keep it in mind. It just won't change the priority of what needs doing."

  Martha's shoulders drooped slightly, but she said nothing more. This attendant served me while fully understanding my clumsiness. That alone was something to be grateful for.

  Walking down the corridor, my eyes turned to the window. Beyond the courtyard, the training ground fence was visible.

  ...I need to meet Kreis soon, too.

  Hero Leon's matter. Delio's matter. And—my brother's socializing mandate. The things I needed to do kept increasing, while my available time stayed exactly the same.

  This world couldn't be paused like a game. I realized that obvious fact all over again.