The Calm Before the Storm

Days passed.

The academy's daily routine continued as usual—lectures, training, spars, meals, and the idle chatter of students filling the grand halls.

Ved paid no attention to any of it.

The excitement that had filled the air during the first few days had settled. The novelty of the academy had worn off for most students, and life had become routine.

Not that it ever mattered to Ved.

He moved through his schedule with cold efficiency—attending classes, training, refining his techniques, and dedicating countless hours to experimenting with his affinities.

But his attempts to merge Ice and Time remained unsuccessful. No matter how many times he tried, the elements refused to fuse. It was like trying to force two incompatible forces to coexist. One was rigid, absolute, and solid. The other was fluid, formless, and fleeting.

It was frustrating, not because he was failing, but because he had yet to understand the reason for his failure.

Even his classmates seemed to notice how little his expression ever changed. Even when he never appeared excited, frustrated, or even impatient. He simply was cold, composed, untouchable.

A week had passed since the academy started.

And with it came the return of the senior students, the upperclassmen who held a position of authority and influence within the academy's hierarchy.

It happened gradually. A few at first. Then more. Until finally, the halls were once again filled with their presence.

Unlike the first-years, who still carried an air of newness, the second and third year students walked with confidence, familiarity, and unspoken authority.

The shift in atmosphere was noticeable.

Where first-years had been busy finding their footing, the second and third year students carried themselves like they owned the academy. Some were relaxed, others carried an edge of arrogance.

But all of them, without exception, were strong. They had honed their skills, mastered their magic, and proven themselves in the deadly competition.

Conversations now often included whispers about their rankings, achievements, and reputations. Stories about the strongest among them spread quickly, filling the academy with a renewed energy.

And with their return, came the academy's clubs and factions started to kick in.

The academy had no strict rules about joining clubs or factions, but everyone knew that being unaffiliated meant being isolated.

Clubs provided training, resources, and valuable connections. Factions, on the other hand, were more political, groups that operated based on influence, bloodline, and personal ambition.

For many students, these were the fastest and most effective ways to rise in status, to secure their future outside the academy.

Ved, of course, had zero interest in either clubs or factions. He was a lone force driven by his own internal ambitions. At least here in the academy, he had no need for alliances, no desire for social connections .

And It wasn't long before invitations started coming.

Some were formal, with representatives approaching him directly. Others were more subtle, with messages sent through intermediaries.

He ignored them all.

The first real encounter with an upperclassman happened a few days after their return.

Ved had been on his way back from the library when he found his path blocked.

Three figures stood in the hallway, all older than him, their uniforms marking them as second year students. They weren't just any second year students either—they were from the top 100 ranked, elite students.

In Cawyo Academy every year, only 500 lucky or rather, extremely skilled students make it to the academy. Then these students are divided into 10 classes according to their rank.

With this there are a total of 500 students in the first year of the Cawyo Academy. By the second year, however, that number drops to 200 students—a decrease of more than half, resulting in only four classes for second years.

By the third and final year.

Only 100 students are left. They only have two classes: A and B.

These three second year students were from the top 100 ranked in their year.

The one in the center, a tall youth with brown hair and sharp black eyes, smirked as he crossed his arms.

"Ved Flack, right?"

Ved didn't answer. He simply stared, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever.

The youth clicked his tongue. "Not much of a talker, huh? Doesn't matter. I'll keep this short."

He stepped closer, eyes narrowing.

"You're talented. But talent alone isn't enough. You should know how things work around here. Strong people stick together. The right alliances matter. That's how things are done here."

Ved remained silent, his gaze still fixed on him.

One of the other students, a dark haired boy leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, smirked. "He's really ignoring you, huh, Luka?"

The brown haired youth Luka let out a slow chuckle, shaking his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. But listen, Flack. Even if you are the young heir of the Flack family, it doesn't matter here in the academy. You're making enemies by acting like you're above everyone else."

Ved's gaze didn't waver. "I don't care." his voice devoid of emotion.

The hallway grew silent.

The casual arrogance on Luka's face faltered for just a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.

"...You don't care?" he repeated, as he couldn't quite believe what he had heard.

Ved tilted his head slightly, his expression unchanging. "I don't need alliances. And I certainly don't need you."

Luka's smirk returned, but there was something colder behind it now. "You really think you can last in this academy alone?"

"I don't think," Ved replied, his voice cutting through the silence as he stepping past them. "I know."

None of the students moved to stop him.

They simply watched as he walked away, his back straight, his presence as untouchable as ever.

More interactions followed the days after. More attempts to recruit him from various clubs and factions and more open challenge him.

And each time, Ved remained the same—cold, dismissive, and indifferent to their overtures, their threats, and their provocations.

The seniors students quickly realized something.

Ved Flack was different from the others. He didn't seek their approval, he didn't crave their status here in the academy and he didn't fear their authority.

And above all, he didn't care about making enemies.

He was just there. Unshaken, unaffected, unbothered.

And that, more than anything, made him even more dangerous.