The new semester had started, and despite the passing days, Kenneth's relationship with Joash returned to being distant.

  He's probably worried it'll fail, Kenneth thought as he wandered through the academy's bustling hallways.

  The uncertainty between them lingered at the back of his mind, but before he could dwell on it further, his path was abruptly blocked.

  Raiden and Ilgar, one of his followers, stood in front of him, their postures dipping with arrogance. Raiden's trademark smirk was firmly in place as he crossed his arms, clearly looking for trouble.

  “Well, look who it is,” Raiden sneered, his tone laced with mockery. “The so-called Fireon successor. Lost your way to the Theory Division?”

  Kenneth stopped, meeting Raiden's gaze without flinching. It was always like with Raiden—snide remarks and cheap provocations.

  But today felt different. There was an edge to his tone, sharper and more bitter than usual.

  “You don't really belong here, do you?” Ilgar chimed in, his voice smooth but no less cutting. He leaned slightly closer, “Let's be honest. Do you even know where you came from?”

  Kenneth's jaw tightened for a split second, but his face remained calm. They don't know. The fact that he was from the mortal world was still a mystery to most. To them, he was an enigma—someone who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and claimed the title of Fireon's successor.

  Raiden stepped closer, his smirk growing more pronounced. “It's funny,” he drawled, dragging out the words. “At Rika's party, I saw the Crown Prince talking to you. The prince himself, giving someone like you attention? Must be nice, getting all that recognition for doing…what, exactly? Nothing?”

  Kenneth's shoulders tensed slightly, though he kept his composure.

  So this is about jealousy. Raiden had always craved recognition and power, and seeing Kenneth—an outsider—catch the Crown Prince's eye had clearly struck a nerve.

  “Didn't think much of it at first,” Raiden continued, his tone growing colder, “but it doesn't add up. Why would the prince waste his time on someone like you?”

  Kenneth met Raiden's gaze steadily. “Maybe you should ask him,” he replied, his voice calm but firm.

  Raiden's smirk faltered for the briefest moment, his jealousy flickering plainly in his eyes. Ilgar shifted uneasily beside him, the confidence in them momentarily shaken.

  The idea that Kenneth had been acknowledged by the Crown Prince—someone they all admired—clearly unnerved them.

  Ilgar quickly stepped in, trying to regain control of the situation. “The Crown Prince meets all kinds of people,” he scoffed. “Doesn't mean there's anything special about you.”

  Kenneth tilted his head slightly, his expression neutral. “I never asked to be special. I'm here, just like you.”

  Raiden's eyes flashed with anger, though he quickly masked it with a smug gin. “Don't get too comfortable, Fireon,” he said, his tone low and threatening. “Titles mean nothing if you can't live it up to them.”

  Kenneth felt a spark of heat rise within him, but he refused to take a bait. Instead, he stepped closer, meeting Raiden's gaze with unflinching confidence. “Then I'll live up to it,” he said simply, his voice steady and unwavering.

  The tension between them thickened, the hallway growing quieter as nearby students watched from a distance. Raiden's smirk faded entirely, his jaw tightening as if Kenneth's calm confidence had struck a nerve he couldn't hide.

  Before Raiden could come up with another retort, the bell rang, signaling the start of the class. The sound broke the moment, and with a final glance, Raiden turned on his heel, Ilgar following closely behind.

  Kenneth let out a quiet breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. The confrontation had been a small victory, but he knew it wouldn't be the last.

  Raiden's jealousy was like a slow-burning ember—one that would undoubtedly flare again.

  ＊＊＊

  Raiden stormed down the hallway, his frustration evident in every step. Ilgar followed close behind, glancing nervously at his friend. Raiden's confrontation with Kenneth was still fresh in mind, the thought of the newcomer outshining him gnawed at his price.

  His fist clenched at his sides as his thoughts spiraled.

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  Lost in his anger, Raiden didn't notice someone coming from the opposite direction until it was too late. He collided with Joash, who stumbled slightly but quickly steadied himself.

  “Sorry,” Joash muttered, barely glancing at Raiden before continuing on his way.

  Raiden froze, turning to watch Joash disappear around the corner. Recognition flickered in his eyes. Joash—the Commoner from the Theory Division. He remembered seeing him at Rika's birthday, standing with Kenneth, the Crown Prince, and the other successors.

  It had struck him as odd then, and now the memory stirred something deeper.

  Ilgar, noticing Raiden's change in demeanor, leaned in with a conspiratorial smirk. “You know, I overheard something interesting at that party,” he said in a low voice. “Turns out our Joash might actually be the true successor of the Fireon family.”

  Raiden scoffed, though his tone was laced with disbelief. “Joash? A Commoner as the Fireon successor? That's ridiculous”

  Ilfar shrugged, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. “Ridiculous or not, if it's true, it'd cause an uproar. Kenneth's reputation would crumble, and no one would ever accept someone like Joash as the successor. It'd be chaos.”

  Raiden's expression darkened as the implications sank in. “So Kenneth's not even the real one,” he muttered, his voice tinged with disdain. “And Joash? If he's really the successor… the Fireon family is even weaker than I thought.”

  Ilgar leaned closer, his tone dripping with venom. “If we play this right, we could ruin both of them. Expose Joash, and Kenneth's rise as the Fireon successor falls apart. No one would trust either of them, and the Fireon family will stay buried.”

  Raiden's lips curled into a sinister smile as the plan began to take shape in his mind. “Fine. We'll watch them. If Joash is the true successor, we'll make sure no one ever sees him as worthy. And Kenneth? He'll regret ever stepping into this world.”

  ＊＊＊

  Late afternoon bathed the academy courtyard in golden light, casting long shadows across the grass as Kenneth stood before the Tree of Life. Magic flowed from his hand into its massive trunk.

  Around the tree, a field of nemophila flowers—left behind by Salem's magic—swayed gently in the breeze, their soft blue petals catching the light.

  With most students having already gone home, the quiet campus felt almost sacred. Kenneth finished feeding the tree his magic and let out a quiet sigh, lowering himself to the grass beneath its towering branches.

  Leaning back, he gazed up at the canopy, where sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering patterns across the ground.

  The tree had become his sanctuary, a place to breathe and think amidst the chaos of his life.

  The crunch of approaching footsteps broke the stillness. Kenneth turned, half-expecting to see the figure that had haunted his dreams—the First King. But the silhouette coming into focus wasn't the First King. It was his descendant, Crown Prince Ivan.

  Startled, Kenneth stood quickly and bowed. “Your Highness,” he said, his voice calm but respectful.

  Ivan nodded in acknowledgement, his gaze moving to the tree. “At ease,” he said.

  “What brings you here?” Kenneth asked as he straightened, though curiosity tinged his words.

  “I heard the tree had been affected by dark magic,” Ivan replied, his voice low yet firm. He stepped closer, his eyes scanning the branches. “I wanted to see if it was recovering. It seems… alive again.”

  They stood in silence for a moment, both staring up at the tree as its leaves swayed gently in the breeze.

  “Thank you for saving this tree,” Ivan said, breaking the silence. His words carried a weight of sincerity that surprised Kenneth. “I imagine the First King would be proud to see it thriving again.”

  Kenneth felt a shiver crawl down his spine at the mention of the First King. The vision he'd been having—the vivid image of the First King watching him—flashed in his mind. Standing here now, facing the Crown Prince with the tree towering them, Kenneth felt as though he were caught between the past and present.

  “Can I feed the tree with my magic?” Ivan's voice broke through Kenneth's thoughts.

  Kenneth blinked, focusing on the present. “As long as it's magic from the Elemental Guardians, you can” he replied.

  Ivan stepped closer, raising his hand. Streams of water spiraled gracefully from his fingertips, glinting in the fading light as they flowed into the tree's roots. Kenneth watched in quiet awe. The spell was precise yet elegant, a testament of the royal prince's control over his element.

  He had heard before that the Crown Prince was Rika's cousin, connected to the Maridian family through the Empress, the Water Guardian's eldest sister. It made sense that he wielded Water Magic.

  Yet, as Kenneth observed the scene, he couldn't help but notice the stark difference: unlike the First King, Ivan has not inherited Aether Magic.

  The water merged seamlessly with the tree's energy, and the subtle hum of magic filled the air. Ivan's voice broke the silence. “About Joash…”

  Kenneth's brow furrowed slightly.

  “He awakened his magic when we were young,” Ivan continued, his tone tinged with reminiscence. “Before Rika. Before Ash. He was the first successor I met, the first one introduced to me as one of my future Guardians.” Ivan paused, his gaze drifting back to the tree. “It's a shame about what happened to the Fireon family.”

  Kenneth's chest tightened. He stayed silent, unsure how to respond or where the Crown Prince was leading the conversation.

  “I still believe Joash will take his place as my Fireon Guardian one day,” Ivan said, his voice steady, with a quiet certainty that lingered in the air.

  Kenneth felt the weight of those words settle over him. He had always known that Joash was meant to be the true successor of Fireon's Ultimate Fire. Hearing the Crown Prince say it aloud only confirmed what he had feared all along.

  But Kenneth didn't let his thoughts show. His voice was calm and measured as he replied, “I hope so too, Your Highness.”

  Ivan turned to glance at him, studying him for a moment. There was no malice in his gaze, only a quiet understanding. “I suppose we'll see,” he said finally, stepping back.

  The magic faded, the quiet hum from the tree dissipating into the stillness of the evening. Kenneth's eyes lingered on the Crown Prince's retreating figure, the image of Joash and his rightful place as the Fireon's successor fresh in his mind.

  He looked back at the tree, its branches swaying gently as if sharing his thoughts, and wondered how long he could carry a legacy that wasn't his to bear.