After a brief silence, Professor Fuchs leaned back against the stone wall, his eyes distant. "Speaking of old times… you ever hear how I met your father?"
Austin blinked at the sudden shift. "Not really."
Fuchs grinned, his voice taking on a storytelling lilt. "He was a reckless bastard back in the day. Strong, no doubt, but stubborn as hell. We met in a duel—he wanted to test his strength against me. Ended with both of us on the ground, bruised and laughing like idiots."
Austin listened in silence, intrigued.
"But then," Fuchs sighed, "he met her. Elysia."
Austin straightened slightly.
"You should've seen him, kid. He was like a lovesick fool, doing anything to impress her. She wasn't interested at first—she was always so serious, so sharp—but your father? He never gave up. He didn't just love her; he respected her. And when she finally smiled at him—really smiled—he was done for."
"That's—I don't want to hear any of that, Master," Austin said in a disgusted tone jokingly.
Fuchs shook his head, a wistful chuckle escaping him. "Those were the good days."
"..."
"I miss them sometimes."
"Who?" Austin asked.
The professor's eyebrow raised for a brief moment before he responded, "Those old times. I miss them."
Austin smirked. "When will you get married, Master? I'm sure there's someone who makes your heart beat fast." Austin asked teasingly.
Fuchs let out a dry laugh. "Tch. You little brat. I think I'm already too old for such nonsense."
"Who knows?"
The air between them grew quieter, the warmth of nostalgia fading into something heavier.
Then, Fuchs turned to Austin, his expression shifting into something more serious. "About today… I know not getting a staff must have left a bitter taste."
Austin remained silent.
"But you should know," Professor Fuchs continued, "it's not a bad thing that you didn't resonate with a staff today."
Austin frowned slightly. "An upperclassman already told me. The longer I wait, the stronger the staff I'll get."
"Exactly," the professor said, nodding. "But that also means there's something about your mana that makes the weaker ones ignore you. That's not normal, kid. It means you're either meant for something greater… or something much harder."
Austin didn't respond right away, his thoughts drifting.
Fuchs clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever it is, you'll figure it out. Just don't let yourself get swallowed by doubt. The future is only blurry because it hasn't been written yet."
"..."
With that, the professor straightened, stretching his arms before turning to leave. "I'll see you around, kid."
Austin watched him go, his words lingering in the air.
Now alone, he let out a slow breath, staring up at the darkening sky.
"The future hasn't been written yet, huh?" he hushed, thinking about the past.
The gods had given him a second chance, but he was still unable to save the people he cared about in this life.
I miss you.
Austin reached out to the boy he once was—the boy who was only trying to be the best son he could be.
What happened to us?
***
Austin made his way to the Notice Board, scanning the geography of the location to ensure he wouldn't get lost tomorrow to look for the Class Placement results.
With that done, he turned back toward the dormitories, ready to get some rest.
By the time he arrived, he found Lucian rummaging through his chest, his expression unreadable.
"Hey," Austin greeted casually.
Lucian didn't respond. Instead, he slammed the chest shut and walked past him without a word.
Austin blinked. What was that about?
He shrugged it off and turned toward his bed, only to notice a neatly folded suit and tie placed on top of it. A letter rested beside them.
Curious, he picked it up and unfolded it.
---
Austin,
This suit belonged to your father. If he were here, he'd be proud to see you wearing it. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
—Master.
---
Austin let out a small chuckle. Nonsensical old man. But still, a warmth spread in his chest.
He carefully ran his fingers over the fabric. It was well-kept, sturdy despite its age. His father's presence lingered in it somehow.
Maybe tonight won't be so bad after all—
BANG!
The door swung open with a violent force, and in strode Aidan, flanked by his lackeys.
"Well, well," Aidan sneered. "If it isn't the Saintling who couldn't even get a staff."
His cronies chuckled.
Austin didn't react, just continued folding the letter.
"What's the matter, Austin?" one of them jeered. "Did the staves think you were too weak?"
"Maybe they just knew he's better off scrubbing floors than wielding magic," another added with a smirk.
"What, missed me already? We just met earlier, right?" Austin responded wryly.
"Oh, ho, ho? So the good guy also has this side of him, huh?" Aidan mocked as his eyes landed on the suit. "What's this?" He reached out. "Did you buy this? Pretty fancy for a nobody like you."
The moment his fingers brushed the fabric, Austin's gaze snapped to him, cold and piercing.
Aidan paused, surprised. Then he smirked, doubling down. "Oh? Is this important to you?"
He grabbed the suit, lifting it carelessly.
Austin exhaled slowly, his voice calm but firm. "I'm warning you—put it down."
The lackeys snickered. "What are you gonna do if we don't? Buy another one? Oh wait—can you?"
Aidan laughed along, twisting the suit in his grip. "What if I—"
Before he could finish, Lucian burst into the room, eyes wide with urgency.
"Stop," Lucian said, his voice unsteady but determined.
The room fell silent.
Aidan turned, raising an eyebrow. "You?"
His lackeys looked between them, amused. "The coward speaks!"
Aidan scoffed. "You're defending him? The same guy who doesn't even acknowledge you?"
Lucian stood his ground, fists clenched.
Austin noticed a fresh bruise on Lucian's face. He hadn't been able to get a proper look at him earlier since Lucian had suddenly run off, but now, it was clear as day.
Aidan's smirk turned cruel. "You really are pathetic."
Then, without warning, he shoved Lucian. The smaller boy stumbled back, but he didn't fall.
The lackeys took that as a signal and joined in, pushing him, jabbing his shoulder, laughing as Lucian grit his teeth but refused to move away.
Then, as Aidan raised his hand for a punch—
Austin caught his wrist.
"That's enough." His voice was quiet, but it sent a shiver through the room.
Aidan glared at him. "Let go."
Austin didn't.
Aidan growled, and in his anger, his staff materialized in his free hand, its mana flaring with challenge.
Before anything could escalate further—
"That's quite enough."
The firm voice of a professor cut through the tension like a blade.
Everyone turned to see Professor Scharf standing at the doorway, arms crossed, his sharp gaze locking onto Aidan.
"The fight ends here," he said coolly. "Or would you rather test your art against a professor?"
Aidan stiffened, his grip on his staff tightening.
Then, reluctantly, he let his mana fade, the staff vanishing into thin air.
Professor Scharf's gaze swept over them, then landed on Austin. "You," he said. "Come with me."