If Laich's Art Building was a colorful mess, then Henesa Ashart's Philosophy and Ethics Hall was the definition of cold precision.

  The room was a perfect circle, built of white marble polished to reflect the image of every student who stepped inside. There was no dust. There was no sound of chairs creaking. The ceiling is a glass dome specially designed to refract sunlight into pillars of gold that fall precisely on the lectern.

  Mira sits in the third row. She wears her academic uniform neatly, but her eyes are not focused on the thick book on her desk. Her eyes are fixed on the woman standing in the middle of the pillar of light.

  Henesa Ashart. Her adoptive mother. Dalt's wife. The second most influential woman in the kingdom after Queen Mathra.

  Henesa was not wearing a baggy lecturer's robe. She wore a champagne-colored silk dress that fit her body perfectly, paired with a formal white blazer. Her hair was tied back in a low bun, not a single strand out of place. Around her neck hung a necklace with a small gold scale pendant.

  She did not hold a magic wand. She held a gold chalk.

  “Power,” Henesa's voice was calm, but the acoustics of the room made her voice sound like a whisper directly in each student's ear. “Is a universal currency. Older than gold. Older than blood.”

  Henesa turned to the giant curved blackboard. She drew a large circle.

  “In our world, Intian is an unevenly distributed resource,” Henesa continued. She tapped her chalk. “Some are born with oceans in their blood—like the Runerre Family. Some are born with a glass of water. And the rest... are born in the desert.”

  Henesa turned to face the class. Her eyes swept the room, pausing briefly on Mira.

  “The fundamental question of Magic Politics is not ‘How do we use magic?’, but ‘How do we live with this injustice?’”

  Henesa snapped her fingers. Three balls of light appeared, floating in the air. One red, one white, one gold.

  “History records that there were three major ideologies—the Three Orders—that attempted to answer that question. Three ways of looking at how the world should work.”

  ***

  Henesa touched the red orb of light. It grew larger, transforming into a visual illusion: a tall tower surrounded by thick walls. Inside the walls, people were safe. Outside the walls, monsters roamed.

  “First Faction: The Order of the Silk Sword—The Preservers,” explained Henesa. “This ideology is embraced by most monarchies on this continent, including Asnaven.”

  “The philosophy is simple: Hierarchy is Protection.”

  Henesa walked around the illusion of the red tower. “They believe that the strong have a moral obligation to lead. And the weak have a moral obligation to serve. It's a symbiosis. Lions protect sheep from wolves, and in return, sheep provide wool for lions.”

  A student in the front row—the son of a Baron—raised his hand. “That makes sense, Professor. Without Runerre, we would have been eaten by monsters a hundred years ago.”

  “True,” Henesa smiled thinly. A smile that was difficult to read. "This Order keeps the Power System in place. They preserve the bloodline. They make laws that ensure magic remains the privilege of the elite. For them, equality is a recipe for destruction, because not everyone knows how to wield a sword."

  Mira stared at the red tower. That was Arlen. Arlen believed in this. He believed he was the lion protecting the sheep. He didn't realize that the “wool” he took from the sheep was their lives and freedom.

  Henesa moved toward the white ball of light. It exploded silently, erasing the illusion of the red tower. In its place appeared a vast, flat grassland. There were no towers. There were no walls. Everyone stood at the same height.

  “Second Faction: Order of Luminan—The Abolitionists,” Henesa's voice lowered. “A radical group that emerges every few centuries, then disappears, then reappears.”

  “Their philosophy: Justice is Nothingness.”

  The room fell silent. This concept was taboo in Asnaven.

  “They believe that the power system itself is the root of evil,” Henesa stared intently at Mira. “As long as there is one person who can throw fire and one who cannot, oppression will always exist. So, their solution is not to distribute power...”

  Henesa clenched her hands, turning the white light into complete darkness for a moment.

  “...their solution is to erase that power completely. Destroy the Intian. Sever this world's connection to the source of magic. Make everyone ‘ordinary creatures’. If everyone is blind, no one will envy those who can see.”

  Mira felt her heart racing. Erase magic. If that happened, Arlen would lose everything. But Anne and Arith would be cured of their illnesses. The suffering caused by magic would disappear, but the wonders of the world would also die.

  “That's crazy,” whispered a student behind Mira. “Without magic, how will we cure diseases? How will we build buildings?”

  “That's the price,” Henesa replied coldly. “Absolute justice requires absolute sacrifice.”

  Henesa walked toward the last ball. The Golden Light Ball. This ball did not turn into a tower or a field of grass. This ball turned into a Giant Scale.

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  “The Third Faction,” said Henesa, her voice containing hidden sadness. “The Order of the Golden Angels (The Balancers).”

  “They don't want to strengthen the king, and they don't want to destroy magic. They are... Goalkeepers. Mediators. Balancers.”

  Henesa touched one of the scales. That scale went down, the other went up.

  “Their philosophy: Chaos is the Enemy, Stability is God.”

  Henesa walked over to Mira's table, standing right in front of her adopted daughter.

  Mira tensed up. Not because Henesa was approaching her, but because it was this Order that had made Kars disappear. The Order that had slaughtered Stealix—her people.

  “This Order works in the shadows. They make sure no one side gets too powerful. If the King becomes a tyrant, the Order will secretly fund rebels to weaken him. If the rebels become anarchists, the Order will give weapons to the King to crush them.”

  Henesa looked into Mira's eyes. This was not a history lesson. It was a veiled warning.

  “They maintain the status quo. They ensure the economy keeps turning. They ensure that war never ends in total destruction, but also never ends in complete peace. Because it is in that balance... that humans can live the longest.”

  “Who are they, Professor?” asked Mira, pretending not to know. “Who has the right to judge the King and the Rebels?”

  Henesa smiled. This time it was a sincere, terrifying smile.

  “Those who hold the gold, Rhea. Because in the end, magic needs Intian, and Intian needs crystals, and crystals... need money.”

  Henesa returned to the podium. She erased the circle on the blackboard with a single sweep of her hand. Golden chalk dust flew everywhere.

  “Your assignment for next week's essay,” Henesa commanded. “Choose one Order. And give arguments as to why the other two Orders should be destroyed. Class dismissed.”

  The students scattered out with bright faces. Henesa's class was always a favorite because there was no pressure, only mind-opening discussions.

  Mira packed her bag leisurely. She deliberately slowed her movements. When the last student left, Henesa stepped down from the podium. Her lecturer's face disappeared, replaced by the wide smile of a mother watching her child come home from school.

  “Rhea!” Henesa stretched out her arms.

  Mira smiled, walked quickly, and hugged the woman. Henesa's embrace smelled of vanilla and old paper. It was comfortable, very different from Arlen's hot and electric hugs.

  “Mom,” Mira murmured on Henesa's shoulder.

  “Look at you,” Henesa released the hug, held Mira's cheeks, sifting through her face. “You're getting thinner. Doesn't the palace chef feed you well? Or are you too busy studying?”

  “The food is good, Mom. It's just... the atmosphere sometimes makes me full first,” Mira joked.

  Henesa laughed heartily. “Ah, dinner with Queen Mathra is indeed the most effective diet. She can make your appetite disappear with just one glance.”

  Henesa pulled out her lecturer's chair, then pulled out a student chair for Mira. They sat facing each other, their knees almost touching. There was no table between them.

  “How are you, dear?” Henesa asked, her tone turning serious but warm. “Are you okay there? Prince Arlen isn't hurting you, is he?”

  “He... he's nice, ma'am,” Mira replied honestly. “He's much more human than the rumors say. Sometimes he's like a lonely little boy.”

  “That's good,” Henesa rubbed Mira's hand.

  Mira smiled. “Ma'am,” Mira called softly. “I'm entering the Into the Diamond selection.”

  Henesa's eyes sparkled. “For the Second Domain Tournament?”

  “Yes. Through the Arts and Culture path.”

  “Ah, a clever tactic,” Henesa nodded in agreement. "The Combat path is definitely dominated by Lukas. There are two paths left, and you should be able to get one of them. Considering the quality of students in several departments has begun to decline," Henesa added sarcastically, feeling that the current generation was being spoiled with simple spells that had little impact on their opponents.

  Henesa reached into the pocket of her cardigan. She took out a small navy blue box. She gave it to Mira.

  Mira opened it. Inside was a ring. Not an engagement ring. But a signet ring with a horizontal number eight symbol. The Ashart Family crest, but with a modification of Níeh?ggr the Dragon—an ancient dragon that is said to support the world so that it does not collapse. The dragon's body twists and turns until its head meets its tail, forming a perfect infinity symbol.

  “This is not a magical artifact,” Henesa said quickly, before Mira could ask. “It's also not a secret safe key or a sophisticated communication device.”

  Mira took the ring and twirled it on her finger. “Then what is it?”

  “It's just a regular ring. But I had our regular jeweler modify it a little,” Henesa took the ring and pressed the back of it. The ring opened, and a small pin emerged. “It can be a ring, or it can be a pin/brooch.”

  Henesa pinned the ring (in pin mode) to the collar of Mira's blazer. The silver metal gleamed in contrast to the dark blue fabric.

  “Wear this when you compete later,” Henesa said softly, smoothing Mira's collar. “Let everyone know—let Queen Mathra know, let the judges know—that you are not fighting alone. That the Ashart family stands behind you.”

  Mira's eyes felt hot. All this time, she had been used to fighting alone. Or fighting in the shadows as Kars' partner. But the Asharts... they gave her a stage. They gave her a name.

  “Thank you, Mom.”

  “One more thing,” Henesa looked into Mira's eyes. Her smile faded slightly, replaced by a melancholic gaze full of understanding.

  “The Second Domain Tournament isn't just about trophies or politics, is it, Rhea?”

  Mira fell silent. She knew what her mother meant.

  “Your sister, ” Henesa whispered.

  Mira nodded stiffly. “Yes.”

  “Your father has deployed Ashart intelligence, ” Henesa said softly. “We can’t track her specifically because the Tournament’s magical protection is very tight. But...”

  Henesa gripped Mira's hand tightly. “...there are records from the middle district. And there are records of ‘assets’ from the noble families there. A name similar to your sister’s appeared on the logistics list a month ago.”

  “Is she still alive?” Mira’s voice broke.

  “Most likely, yes,” Henesa nodded firmly. “She may be working there. Or maybe... he's become something else. The Tournament is huge, Rhea. It's a city in the clouds. Many missing people are found there with new identities."

  Henesa cupped Mira's face. “That's why you have to win this selection. You have to go there. Not for the Queen, not for Anaven or Arlen. But to bring your sister home. She's your main goal, right?”

  Mira nodded. “I'll find her, Mom. I promise.”

  “I know you will,” Henesa kissed Mira's forehead. “Now go. Anna must be bored waiting outside eating all the candy from the vending machine.”

  Mira laughed softly through her drying tears. “Thank you, Mom.”

  ***

  Outside, Anna was sitting on a park bench, munching on a candy bar. She waved when she saw Mira.

  “A touching family reunion?” Anna asked, her mouth full of chocolate.

  “Very,” Mira replied, touching the pin on her chest. “My mother said we have to win.”

  “Of course we have to win. Otherwise, I'll lose my job,” Anna jumped down from the bench. “Oh yes, Miss. There's news from Ulric's ‘friends’.”

  Mira pricked up her ears. “About history?”

  “No. About Lukas,” Anna grinned. “It turns out the Golden Lion has been training secretly in the Forbidden Forest every afternoon. He's preparing a new technique to fight you.”

  “Fight me?”

  "He knows you're in the selection. And he knows you're no longer a weak girl,“ Anna threw her candy wrapper into the trash can. ”He considers you a serious threat, Rhea. That's the highest compliment from a soldier."

  Mira smiled slightly. Lukas was training to fight her. Arlen supported her. Henesa gave her blessing. And her sister was waiting for her at the finish line.

  All the pieces were in motion.

  “Come on, Anna,” Mira said, her steps steady. “Let's go back to the palace. I have to thank Arlen for the inspiration for my painting. And I have to prepare to shatter Lukas' expectations.”

  But before the two of them could continue on their way, Lysandra blocked them at the main door. She looked no better than usual.