CHAPTER 125: [A SPARK BENEATH TWO MOONS]

So he turned slightly, resting his chin on his hand, and asked in the most innocent tone he could muster:

"Say, Lysaria... tell me about the Royal Academy."

Her head turned toward him slowly.

Eyes narrowed.

"...What?"

"The Academy," he said again, more casually now, as if discussing the weather.

"Like... how the dorms are divided.

Who oversees the ranking matches.

Where they keep the more... sensitive spell scrolls."

She sat up, squinting at him like he’d just grown bat wings.

"Are you seriously using this romantic moonlit moment to extract classified magical infrastructure out of me?"

Kael blinked. "Is that a no?"

Yue, hovering lazily overhead, slapped a hand to her forehead. "You absolute gremlin."

Lysaria shook her head in disbelief. "You’re the worst."

Kael just grinned.

"You’re the one who said you were almost Rank 3. I’m just taking notes from a prodigy."

Lysaria sighed—this time not in frustration, but something softer.

Quiet.

Thoughtful.

He’d done so much for her tonight—more than he had to.

Maybe... helping him wasn’t too much to give in return.

"I don’t actually know what it’s like inside the Royal Academy," she said, voice gentle as she lay beside him in the glowing field.

"I haven’t been admitted yet."

Kael turned toward her, brows lifting in curiosity.

She shook her head with a faint smile.

"But I do know it’s the biggest magical academy on our entire continent."

Kael blinked. "Continent?"

Lysaria chuckled.

"Yeah.

This continent is called Xandor.

And the strongest force here is the Elion Empire.

Our Velmora Kingdom falls under its rule—just one piece of the empire’s reach."

Kael’s eyes narrowed slightly, thoughts beginning to spiral.

Right... seven continents.

That much he remembered from Yue’s early explanations.

She was from the eastern continent, wasn’t she?

Seven continents in total... and he was in this one.

Xandor.

Still just a corner of a much, much bigger world.

He glanced at the sky.

The moons looked so close, and yet—

There was so much farther to go.

Lysaria continued, her voice lighter now.

"In Elion, mana is richer.

Denser.

Most children there awaken faster, learn stronger spells.

There are clans with ancient bloodlines, noble houses with legacy techniques, and sects that pass down forbidden arts."

Her eyes sparkled slightly.

"It’s not just an empire, Kael.

It’s a whole world hidden inside a bigger one."

Kael listened in silence, caught in her words.

Legacy techniques.

Bloodline abilities.

Artifacts.

Endless opportunity.

His pulse quickened.

He wanted to go there.

He needed to.

"But the admissions test," he murmured. "It must be insane."

Lysaria nodded.

"In three months, the next entry cycle begins.

You have to travel to the capital of Elion, register, and undergo two trials."

He looked at her, curious. "Two?"

She nodded.

"Stage one is the Awakening Crystal.

When you touch it, it reveals your highest elemental affinity... and your potential as a mage."

Kael sat up slightly, eyes wide.

"That exists?"

"Of course," she said, like it was common knowledge.

"If your potential isn’t Rank 5 or above, you’re immediately disqualified.

More than half fail right there."

Kael gulped. "That’s brutal."

"It’s the best magical academy on the continent," she reminded him.

"Everyone there has dreams... and not everyone gets to keep them."

A quiet moment passed.

Snow drifted down around them, catching the glow of the field.

Kael breathed out, watching the mist leave his lips.

"And the second trial?"

She shrugged.

"Changes every year.

One time, it was beast hunting.

Another, dungeon diving.

Last year? A battle royale.

No one knows until the day arrives."

Kael whistled low. "Sounds like fun."

Lysaria rolled her eyes. "That’s your takeaway?"

But he just grinned, then leaned back again, arms behind his head.

"It sounds hard," he admitted after a beat.

"It is hard," she said. "That’s why it matters."

Yue, who had been floating just above them, finally spoke.

"So... you’ve decided, then?" Her voice was quieter.

Thoughtful.

Kael nodded slowly.

"...Yeah. If I survive the next three months, I’m going."

Yue sighed—deep and ancient.

"I better not start getting attached to this continent."

Kael laughed softly.

"Don’t. We’re just passing through."

Silence returned, blanketing the glowing field once more.

Lysaria lay still for a while, her gaze lost in the stars.

But then, softly—like a whisper against the wind—she spoke.

"...Kael. Can’t you help me?"

He didn’t open his eyes.

Just lay there, a blade of grass lazily perched between his lips, arms folded behind his head, as if her words had floated right past him.

But they hadn’t.

She turned her head toward him, eyes searching his face. Her voice trembled slightly.

"I don’t want to be married off without my consent."

Her tone was calm, but her heart wasn’t.

She meant it.

Every word.

Kael finally opened his eyes, squinting at the sky above them.

He didn’t look at her when he spoke.

"No," he said quietly. "I can’t."

The rejection wasn’t harsh.

It was just... final.

Lysaria’s breath caught.

She turned away quickly, blinking hard, tears threatening to fall—but not yet.

Kael’s voice came again, low and thoughtful.

"Some things," he said,

"You have to face yourself.

No one’s going to come save you when it matters most.

Not really."

He exhaled, voice softening at the edges.

"...And I like girls who can save themselves."

Lysaria’s eyes widened slightly.

But she said nothing.

Didn’t move.

Kael sat up and brushed the petals from his clothes, still oblivious to the hurricane he’d just stirred in her chest.

"Let’s go," he said simply. "I’ll drop you back."

He turned and started walking.

Lysaria remained frozen for a moment, staring at the twin moons overhead—one silver, one crimson.

"...Independent," she whispered.

And suddenly, the words weren’t Kael’s anymore.

They were hers.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand—not out of sorrow, but clarity.

For the first time, she didn’t feel helpless.

She felt... direction.

Purpose.

She wasn’t just some girl trapped in a noble house, waiting to be married off like furniture.

Not anymore.

She stood up, shoulders square.

Something had shifted inside her—something deep.

And then she ran.

Not away.

But forward.

Toward him.

Toward the version of herself she suddenly wanted to become.

From the air above, Yue watched in silence—lips pressed together.

She didn’t crack a joke.

She didn’t say a word.

Because some moments didn’t need commentary.

Only reverence.