After the girl - apparently the princess of the neighboring nation - had left the lecture hall, Professor Burton turned his attentive gaze to Croy and Fredrik.
"And you two? Do you also think the test is too easy?" the professor asked with an amused expression.
Fredrik reacted first, attempting an apologetic smile.
"Uh, no, Professor. But honestly, I was a bit afraid of being trampled, and then you spoke so... mysteriously with the princess. It would've felt awkward to just stand up and leave."
Professor Burton sighed softly and gave a slight nod. Then he turned to Croy, whose expression remained steadfast.
"And you?"
Croy was silent for a moment. Everything inside him resisted this test. In his eyes, it promoted neither teamwork nor discipline and only drove the students into unnecessary conflict. He decided to speak openly. He didn't want to offend the professor, but it was also a soldier's duty to offer his superior another perspective.
"This test brings nothing but conflict," he finally said, clear and firm.
Professor Burton raised his eyebrows with interest.
"And why do you think that?"
Croy took a few moments to choose the right words.
"Most students here hardly know each other. There are no established groups yet. Since each ghost dog can only be petted twice, acting as a large group is pointless. And you've deliberately placed fewer ghost dogs than there are students. So everyone will only be looking out for themselves. That leads to unnecessary conflicts."
Professor Burton let Croy's words sink in, then nodded thoughtfully.
"Much of what you say is indeed correct. But unfortunately, you haven't quite grasped the core of the test - or perhaps the principle of this academy. What's your name, young sir?"
"I'm no 'sir.' My name is Croy Belmont," Croy replied, meeting the professor's gaze.
"Well, Mr. Belmont, do you owe that scar to your service?"
The professor pointed to Croy's cheek, where a scar cut across his skin in a hard, rough pattern. Croy flinched in surprise.
"Yes... How did you know?"
Professor Burton laughed heartily and waved dismissively.
"You speak like a soldier. I recognize that immediately. That also gives you a different view of this test - and probably of the whole academy."
He smirked.
"Very well, then I'll grant you a little extra lesson as thanks for your service."
"You're not surprised?" Croy asked, curious about the seemingly unshakable professor.
"About what? Your age? Are you surprised that I'm still a professor at my age?"
Croy shook his head. The old man might have unfamiliar views, but he would never underestimate a Spellcaster - especially not an older one - in a profession where many died young.
The professor nodded, satisfied.
"Then I won't underestimate you either, Mr. Belmont."
He clasped his hands behind his back and regarded Croy thoughtfully.
"While the imperial military places great value on unity and discipline from the start, the academy takes a different path. Here, we let young talents compete against each other, sometimes even incite them. These prodigies find excellent rivals among their classmates - and there's hardly a great Spellcaster who isn't ambitious and competitive at heart. To become the best, that's exactly what's needed."
Croy began to respond, but Professor Burton raised a finger, and Croy held back.
"That doesn't mean the academy doesn't recognize the value of a well-practiced team. But a team of hardened prodigies who've been pushing each other for years - who are rivals yet serve the same empire - that's a force hard to defeat. And even if many of them may not go into battle, their spellcasting abilities will reach unforeseen heights through competition with their peers."
The professor paused, letting his words settle before continuing.
"Do you understand that, Mr. Belmont?"
Croy took a moment to process what was said. The idea that they were deliberately setting him in competition with his classmates irritated him, but he recognized the strategic approach. At this academy, it wasn't just about mastering spells - they nurtured and challenged you deliberately, pushing you to your limits.
That's why standardized spellweapons were banned. It was a different kind of growth.
'What was Spider thinking when he sent me here? Did he think I'd like this?' he pondered.
He finally nodded slowly.
"Yes, Professor. I believe I understand."
The professor smiled. But Croy wasn't finished.
"But it pisses me off."
Croy stood up slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on the professor. Professor Burton could barely suppress his amused expression.
"Then how about you show me that my methods are wrong?" the professor asked, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
Croy snorted, clenching his hands into fists. "I will- Wait, you're doing this on purpose!"
The professor laughed heartily and clapped his hands.
"Ah, how wonderful youth is!" Still laughing, he turned and left the lecture hall, his cheerful laughter echoing through the empty rows.
Croy watched him leave, keeping his anger in check, trying to gather the last remnants of his pride.
"Dude, you were really in the military?" Fredrik's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Croy sighed heavily.
"Yes. But anyway, I'm leaving now."
He began moving toward the exit. But Fredrik quickly jumped up and joined him. Croy exhaled irritably.
"What do you want?"
"I thought I'd tag along."
Croy stopped abruptly and turned around.
"After you labeled me a pervert in front of everyone?"
Fredrik raised his hands innocently and grinned.
"People hear whatever they want to hear."
"No! They hear you, and only you, when you shout across the entire hall that you want to hit on the imperial princesses!"
Croy grimaced, placing his hands on his hips.
"Oh God, and the Emperor - long live the Emperor - had just spoken so fondly of them."
Fredrik's smile faded for a moment before he defended himself, slightly irritated.
"There's no law against politely asking them out on a date. Besides, I don't want to marry anyone or anything! I just want to enjoy my time at the academy. You see what we'll have to go through; we can allow ourselves a bit of fun."
Croy looked at him, something softening in his gaze. Fredrik noticed and eyed him skeptically.
"What?"
"Having some fun... That's what my leader always told me."
Croy shook his head slightly, a thoughtful smile crossing his face. 'Was that what Spider wanted? That after the three years at war, I finally enjoy myself?'
Fredrik didn't quite grasp Croy's expression but shrugged it off. Croy sighed and assessed the boy. Fredrik was about the same height and wasn't bad-looking - why was he so fixated on the imperial twins? With others, he'd probably have less trouble and quite good chances.
"Do you know any sensor spells, Fredrik?" Croy finally asked.
Fredrik raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"So you want to take the test after all?"
Croy nodded.
"Yes. I promised someone I'd take this seriously for at least a semester, so I'll do that. So, can you cast sensor spells?"
Fredrik nodded confidently.
"Not particularly well, but yes."
"Good. Then let's form a team."
Fredrik beamed, extending his fist and looking at Croy enthusiastically.
"I knew we'd get along, Croy!"
Croy shook his head and bumped fists, a slight smile on his lips. But Fredrik's grin only widened, and suddenly he pulled back his fist as if struck by a brilliant idea.
"We'll call ourselves - the hot and single-"
"Shut up!"
***
"Pathfinder," Croy said, and immediately felt his mana altering his vision. Across the marble floor and corridors stretched countless mana traces, in different colors and intensities.
Some glowed brightly; others were barely visible, wavering like fading lights. Most were differently colored, depending on the frequency and wavelength of the mana, forming a pattern of innumerable magical traces.
"That's a military-grade spell, isn't it?" Fredrik asked, observing Croy's eyes with curiosity.
Croy kept his gaze on the floor, where the colorful mana traces extended in all directions.
"Yes, but I can't cast it as well as a sensor could. I can hardly see mana with very high or low frequencies."
Fredrik looked thoughtful.
"That's not good. The professor's mana was sky blue - a pretty high frequency."
Croy nodded. "I know. But I don't know any other sensor spells. I'll keep it active as long as I can, and we'll keep searching for these ghost dogs. The professor said we should get to know the campus, so they could be anywhere."
"Alright. I'll regularly cast my Water Drop spell. Unfortunately, that's all I can do."
Croy frowned. "What does that spell do?"
"You don't know Water Drop? They teach it in elementary school," Fredrik said, a bit surprised.
Croy shook his head. "I don't know any non-military spells."
"Dude, that sounds really sad when you put it that way. Water Drop allows me to sense general mana sources in a small radius. But I can't determine the direction of the source."
Croy nodded, and after a final agreement, they set off. He kept glancing at the floor, but rarely did he see traces in deep green or orange frequencies - and when he did, they were so faint he could hardly tell where they led. Finding a lower or higher mana trace seemed unlikely.
But not impossible. For now, they resorted to the old-fashioned method - exploring on foot.
The corridor led them through the heart of the main building, where marble arches were supported by towering columns. Red and white banners with the golden flame of the Empire hung everywhere, glowing softly under the chandeliers.
"Pretty impressive, isn't it?" murmured Fredrik as they climbed a massive staircase leading to the next corridor.
"Definitely," Croy admitted.
A student in a perfectly tailored suit hurried past them, holding a metallic, floating tablet that seemed to guide him to his next destination. In the side wings of the main building, they saw occasional students in dresses and suits, hastily looking around - apparently searching for ghost dogs as well.
"You probably won't find a dog here," Fredrik remarked dryly.
"They wouldn't just be sitting in the main hall waiting to be found."
"You're right. Let's head to the main square. If the professor wants us to explore the campus, he might have placed some dogs there."
They left the building and found themselves in the vast main square in front of the academy. Artfully shaped bushes stood in oval beds, and several fountains lined the paths, their water spraying in precise, gentle arcs.
Compared to the bustling shopping streets of the capital, the square felt calm and serene. Except, the students moving around were elegantly dressed and all in a hurry. Only a few wore uniforms—so mostly newcomers were about.
They continued past the main square and discovered a large building on the left, marked with a simple, elegant sign as 'Research Complex.'
"Seems like a big lab," Croy noted quietly.
"Makes sense," Fredrik agreed, casting his spell again to check for suspicious mana traces.
But their search yielded nothing, so they moved on. They passed gardens, small training halls, and secluded rest areas hidden among trees and shrubs. In the distance, Croy even spotted something resembling a stadium.
"Damn, the academy really has everything," Croy murmured.
"It's like a city within a city."
"I think there's even a shopping district here," Fredrik added, his smile now noticeably shy.
"Is there also a red-light district?" he mused.
Croy ignored him.
Suddenly, he stopped. They hadn't just been wandering aimlessly - the faint mana trace he'd found a while ago and had been following so far actually seemed to lead somewhere. Even if it was hard for him to detect high frequencies like the professor's sky blue, he'd managed to find a trail of smaller mana crumbs. And now this trace led into a building.
He looked up and froze. The trail led into a restroom facility.
"In here," he said to Fredrik, nodding toward the door.
Fredrik shook his head. "Fine, I'll wait until you're done."
"No, you clown, there's probably a ghost dog in here. Cast Water Drop."
"Water Drop," Fredrik intoned, closing his eyes and concentrating briefly.
"I do sense a mana source, other than you. But it could just be some guy taking care of buiseness, you know?"
Croy shook his head and entered the facility. They found themselves in a spotlessly clean corridor with two doors - one for women and one for men. Croy grimaced.
"Let me guess," Fredrik said, his expression also strained.
"The trail leads to the women's restroom?"
"Yes. So you go in," Croy said dryly.
"What? Why me?"
"You're the one who's into peeping, right?"
"Dude, I like women, but I have manners," Fredrik retorted indignantly. "You can see the mana. So you go!"
Croy glared at him.
"No way! What if someone's in there?"
"And why did you want to send me in, then?"
"Because you're a pervert anyway!"
Both boys began arguing childishly until a cool, annoyed voice suddenly sounded behind them.
"Um... Excuse me? I don't know what you two are up to, but I need to get through."
"Not now!" they both snapped in unison, then immediately fell silent.
A girl stood in the corridor, one eyebrow raised, looking at them skeptically. She wore an elegant black dress that emphasized her slender yet well-formed figure, and her short dark hair ended in deep blue tips.
Croy froze.
"Inera- I mean, Lady Clayford?"