Two days after the trial, Kaleid was summoned.
Not by faculty. Not by the system
By nobles
The invitation had arrived wrapped in a spell-sealed scroll, its edges gilded, stamped with the sigil of a rising falcon.
House Falcon.
A lesser noble family by rank—but known for producing elite scholars, mind-mages, and battlefield analysts.
The message was short and direct:
> "Your survival strategy during the forest trial has drawn the attention of certain… academic circles.
You are invited to the Falcon House Elite Strategy Group.
Declining is permitted—but noted."
— Lyrelle Falcon, Archivist-in-Training
Kaleid didn't respond in writing.
But he went.
Not out of trust.
But Out of curiosity.
And the sense—deep in his bones—that he was being measured.
It was nothing like the rest of the academy.
The moment Kaleid stepped in, he felt it.
Gravity shifted.
Not physical gravity—social.
Stone columns curved like feathers around a circular chamber. Floating notes and projection runes hovered in the air. The scent of parchment and old mana clung to the walls.
Six students were already present. Five wore crisp noble robes.
The sixth—
Serika Drakonheart.
Draped in snow-white and scaled crimson, horns gleaming in the lamplight, her expression unreadable.
And beside her stood a new presence.
---
Lyrelle Falcon – Half-Elf, Noble Analyst, Strategist
Slender. Sharp-eyed. Ash-blonde hair pulled into a braided twist. Her ears were only half-arched—clear proof of her elven bloodline. Her eyes, however, were pure human calculation.
Kaleid didn't flinch under her gaze.
She smiled faintly.
"You came."
He didn't answer.
"You were being analyzed.
Still, no reply.
"…You orchestrated the Mossfang Queen's death using glyph residue, natural terrain, and baited decay patterns."
"...So?"
Lyrelle's smile widened.
"So we'd like to learn how you think."
Serika chuckled from behind her. "Or see if your tactics were instinct or intent."
---
System Prompt
[Warning:]
> You are in an environment of layered political subtext.
Observation Level: High
System Suggestion: Say less. Think more.
Kaleid didn't need the advice.
His instincts were already screaming.
> This isn't a study group. This is a sieve. They want to know what I am—and how dangerous I might be.
---
Lyrelle gestured toward a ring of conjured illusion maps.
"We're reconstructing three survival scenarios from the last two years. You're free to critique—or rewrite."
She handed him a mana pen.
Kaleid stared at the floating terrain models.
They were traps. Each map was flawed, some subtly. If he failed to see them, he was a fraud. If he fixed them too well, he became a threat.
So he chose neither.
---
He stepped forward and marked one line—a curved arrow through a thicket of ruins.
"Choke point. Unstable mana there. Your frontliner dies first. Distraction fails."
Silence.
Lyrelle's lips parted slightly. "You… knew the trial map's mana decay curve?"
He nodded.
"I mapped it before we landed."
More silence.
Serika crossed her arms.
> "So it wasn't luck," she murmured.
---
The Wall Goes Up
Kaleid set the pen down.
"Why am I really here?"
Lyrelle blinked.
"…To see what drives you."
"I don't need nobles testing my instincts."
"You do need allies," she replied.
That struck him harder than he expected.
He didn't respond.
Serika stepped in, voice low.
"Everyone at this table will rise. Some to command. Some to challenge. You don't belong in the dark halls forever."
He looked her in the eye.
"I prefer shadows to thrones."
"Too bad," she said, golden eyes narrowing, "you weren't born for shadows."
---
System Notification
[Soul Response Detected]
> Defensive Instinct: Active
Emotional Sync Trigger: "Mistrust of Legacy Power"
Trait Progress: Soul Presence [7% → 8%]
> Some truths don't need memory to leave scars.
---
Exit and Echo
Kaleid left early.
No promises. No handshakes.
But as he exited the rotunda, Lyrelle called after him:
"You're not invisible anymore, Kaleid Ashvale."
He paused.
She smiled. "And soon, you won't be ignored."
He walked away.
The wall around him just a little thicker than before.