Baonik’s body was lifted off the ground by the invisible force.

He was flung through the air, colliding headfirst with a tree before crashing to the ground.

His body twitched, thankfully indicating he wasn’t dead. He’d likely be out of it for a while, though.

Seti and Yeomyeong reacted differently to the sudden situation.

Yeomyeong, who had an idea of who the unseen assailant was, sighed and extended his hand.

Seti, who hadn’t anticipated the use of an invisibility cloak, immediately stepped close to Yeomyeong and swung her leg.

Whoosh! Her leg, charged with mana, sliced through the air.

If Yeomyeong hadn’t turned his hand to block her kick, it would’ve been strong enough to slice through the nearby trees.

It was the perfect execution of aerial martial arts, a technique he hadn’t seen from her in a while.

“…Yeomyeong? Why did you stop me?”

Seti looked at him, surprised to find her leg held in place.

A split second later, Yeomyeong let go of her leg, his expression calm, and turned his gaze to where Baonik had been.

“Hey, what’s the big idea? Why did you hit him?”

“….”

“Take off that cloak so we can talk face-to-face….”

As soon as Yeomyeong reached out to remove the invisibility cloak, a flustered voice shouted from thin air.

“They were following you two!”

Of course. He’d suspected as much. Yeomyeong gave a wry smile.

“I know.”

“…You knew?”

“Yeah, I was just about to ask why they were following us.”

There was no response. Feeling curious, Yeomyeong reached out again, only to find that the figure had already moved elsewhere.

Left grasping empty air, Yeomyeong drew in mana to sharpen his senses.

But all he could pick up was a disjointed murmur.

“Oh, no, I, um, uh, think, that, Seti and, you, like, not, together, really….”

A brief silence followed. A leaf drifted down on the breeze, and just as Seti tilted her head in confusion—

Tap-tap-tap!

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed. Their unseen guest was fleeing, unable to hide their panic.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

Yeomyeong shouted after the receding footsteps, but they only grew more distant.

“Yeomyeong, could it be…?”

Finally realizing the identity of their invisible guest, Seti’s expression turned stunned.

The Saintess, with her invisibility cloak.

Seeing her reaction, Yeomyeong gave a wry smile and nudged her shoulder.

“Go after her and calm her down. She seemed really shaken.”

“…Just me? What about you?”

“I’ll take care of him and get him to the infirmary.”

He motioned toward Baonik, who was twitching on the ground. Though he likely wouldn’t die from his injuries, leaving him here wouldn’t be ideal either.

“Can’t I just go with you? It’s not like we really need to chase her….”

“…Seti.”

Yeomyeong placed his hand on her shoulder.

“….”

“I don’t know what happened between you and the Saintess, and I won’t ask unless you decide to tell me. But… the Saintess considers you her friend. At the very least, you should go to her now.”

Seti chewed her lip, looking into Yeomyeong’s eyes, then sighed.

“…Fine. I’ll go see what’s up with her.”

“If possible, try to calm her down. I’m counting on you.”

“…Do you really need to make a request out of this?”

With that, Seti channeled mana into her feet. Just as she prepared to use her aerial technique in the direction the Saintess had gone, she turned back with a parting remark.

“Oh, and keep your evening free. You’ll be meeting my sisters, so be prepared.”

“…Do I need to be prepared for that?”

“I’m giving you fair warning.”

Before Yeomyeong could respond, Seti pushed off the ground.

Watching her quickly disappear, he thought of the only sister of hers he’d ever met.

Siri, the red-haired girl he’d encountered in Incheon.

The daring girl who’d challenged him from the very first moment they met.

…Could her other sisters be like Siri? If so, being “prepared” might not be enough.

With that idle thought, Yeomyeong approached Baonik.

Up close, he could see Baonik’s condition wasn’t as bad as he’d initially thought. The resilience of a superhuman, it seemed—none of his bones were broken.

He did have a large lump on the back of his head, but it was the kind of injury that would heal quickly with the help of an apprentice healer.

To avoid aggravating Baonik’s injury, Yeomyeong carefully supported his shoulder and waist instead of his head.

As he lifted him gently—

Rustle.

A notebook fell from Baonik’s waistband.

Whether by accident or fate, it hit the ground, its lock snapping open to reveal its contents.

It seemed the lock had broken during his earlier tumble, courtesy of the Saintess.

“…Well.”

A notebook he kept locked on his person. Must be important.

Yeomyeong bent down to pick it up, and his eyes inadvertently skimmed over the open page.

On the first page, marked with a large X… the moment he read its contents, his golden eyes darkened.

 

At the northern edge of the academy.

A place named “Bob Hawke Port,” after the Australian Prime Minister at the time the academy was founded.

However, both the port staff and academy students simply called it “the port.” Today, it was in the middle of unexpected chaos.

Ships, ships, and more ships.

Freighters carrying materials for post-terror restoration, military vessels bearing the U.S. Navy flag, and various fishing boats crowded the port.

It looked more like an international trade harbor than an academy’s port, and inside, it wasn’t much different.

Dockworkers unloading cargo in the sea breeze, faculty and soldiers bustling about.

“…Doesn’t it feel like the academy’s spirit of resilience is shining through?”

Medga, watching the scene from a café overlooking the port, made a brief comment.

It was the kind of remark you’d expect from the head of admissions, brimming with pride.

However, the man across from him, sipping a fresh juice, didn’t share his sentiment.

“…I don’t know? All I see is a hectic mess.”

Medga raised his eyebrows and looked at him.

A man with a receding M-shaped hairline and a sharp, blade-like nose.

“…Wollard. You should cultivate an eye for aesthetics.”

The man called Wollard grinned.

“Haha! Headmaster, what use does a guy like me have for aesthetics? I’m not a connoisseur, and it’d just get in the way of my work.”

He chuckled and downed his drink in a single gulp, setting the empty glass down with a thud.

“…Besides, we’re on duty. Better to focus on work than sightseeing.”

“….”

The head of admissions couldn’t help but glance between the empty glass and Wollard’s face, biting back a retort.

It would be silly to argue with a mere informant, and besides, Wollard wasn’t entirely wrong.

After all, the only reason Medga, the head of admissions, was sitting idly in a café by the port during such a tumultuous time was due to… business.

“An important guest is visiting the academy. Please meet them yourself before the reporters or anyone else get to them.”

Recalling the principal’s request, Medga shook his head.

He had no idea who this important guest was that warranted his personal welcome.

The principal hadn’t given him even the guest’s name, let alone their appearance.

Instead, he’d sent along one of the Information Guild’s operatives, who was recognizable by the blue rat emblem.

“Just what is the principal thinking…?”

If it weren’t a personal request from the principal, Medga would have refused outright.

In any case, here they were.

“So, when is this guest supposed to arrive?”

At Medga’s abrupt question, Wollard arched an eyebrow, checked his watch, and answered with a sigh.

“Should be within the next hour. Probably…?”

“…Probably?”

“Well, you know how ships are—hard to predict with the tides and all.”

“….”

“Still, don’t worry. Once they arrive, they’ll be hard to miss.”

Medga clenched his fist and turned his gaze back to the port.

They waited, watching for some time.

In the interim, Wollard ordered several more drinks, and the café owner refilled Medga’s coffee upon recognizing him as a high-ranking academy official.

At some point, a small boat appeared on the horizon.

It was a dinghy, large enough for only one person to sit in the driver’s seat.

“Oh? That boat…”

Wollard’s eyes widened as he spotted it.

Could it be? Medga stood, eyes fixed on the dinghy.

“Is that the guest’s boat?”

“Yes. A fishing boat with a crow insignia… that’s definitely it.”

“Good, let’s go greet them.”

With that, Medga strode out of the café, followed by a sulking Wollard who’d just been waiting for another drink.

The two made their way across the bustling port toward the pier.

Medga was almost running, while Wollard had to sprint to keep up.

Thanks to Wollard’s hasty pace, they reached the pier ahead of the dinghy.

At the academy port’s edge, a small dock for the smaller boats.

“So, what do I do now?”

Medga asked, watching the approaching dinghy.

Wollard, panting, looked up at the boat and replied.

“Whew… nothing too difficult. Just greet them and lead them to the VIP room.”

“…Sounds simple enough.”

“Well… let’s just say you might feel differently once you see them.”

Hearing this, Medga straightened his clothes, his nerves flaring.

The fact that someone had come all this way in a dinghy suggested they were no ordinary person.

And since the principal had taken such a personal interest, he suspected this guest was…

A distinguished person, or maybe an eccentric. Perhaps both.

Just as he thought that, the boat docked.

“Welcome to Lord Howe.”

Medga stepped forward, holding his posture straight and putting strength into his voice to welcome the guest.

“Let’s see just how impressive this person is.”

But for some reason, no one disembarked from the dinghy.

A long silence ensued, lasting long enough that even Wollard began to feel something was amiss.

“…Could it be?”

Realizing something, Wollard leaped onto the dinghy.

“Wollard? What are you…?”

By the time Medga called after him, Wollard had already swung open the driver’s seat door.

“…Ah, damn it.”

With a groan, Medga joined him on the boat.

Inside the cramped driver’s seat were only half-eaten fish scraps and black feathers. The fish made sense, but the feathers?

“…What is going on here?”

At Medga’s bewildered question, Wollard scratched his head sheepishly.

“Well… it seems our guest… has already made their way to the academy.”

“….”

“You’d better hurry… if they wander off and meet a student without supervision, there could be trouble… ouch!”

Finally, Medga smacked him over the head.