It was lunchtime.

As usual, Loewen took a seat in the far corner of the cafeteria, mentally mapping out his afternoon plan—he intended to swing by the library again and borrow a few more books on potion studies.

Lately, he’d already finished reading next year’s potion textbooks in advance. He’d pretty much grasped the fundamental theories behind the subject and had started to figure out his own learning method. He couldn’t wait to dive deeper into more advanced materials.

“Hey, Flenqi. How was Elemental Manipulation class today?”

A lazy voice suddenly came from above his head.

Loewen looked up to see Irwin from the Stardust Class standing across his table with a tray in his hands. He wasn’t sitting down—just clearly passing by and dropping in a casual jab.

Loewen responded without batting an eye, “Irwin, did you finish yesterday’s homework?”

Irwin’s face darkened instantly. Standing beside him, Oran Flynn cleared his throat and quickly stepped in to ease the tension.

“Miss Flenqi, I often see you in the library. Do you go there to borrow books?”

Loewen nodded.

Oran smiled warmly. “The study rooms there are quite nice. How about we go together next time?”

Loewen thought for a moment and replied, “Sure.”

Hearing that, Oran seemed pretty satisfied and walked away with his tray.

Irwin followed after him and grumbled under his breath, “You’re gonna study with her? Why?”

Oran’s voice faded into the distance, tinged with amusement. “Who else would I study with? You? She ranked first in the last test. What about you?”

Irwin: “…”

Once they were far enough away, Felix—who had been quietly eating beside Loewen—finally spoke up, clearly displeased.

“You’re actually going to study in the library? It’s mostly occupied by senior students—you’ll hardly find a place to sit.”

Loewen shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll go if I’ve got time.”

Felix lowered his head, and poked at the food on his plate. “Miss Flenqi, when did you get so close with Oran Flynn? He invites you to study, and you agree without a second thought. But whenever I suggest something, you never seem to care.”

Loewen shot him a strange look.

Felix blinked. “What?”

Loewen sighed. “Stop talking like a jealous brat. It's not good for you.”

Felix: “...”

Loewen waved it off and didn’t dwell on it.

They quickly finished their meal.

Just as Loewen was about to get up, Felix suddenly called out, “Miss Flenqi.”

Loewen paused, setting his tray back down. “What is it?”

Felix lowered his head slightly. His long lashes cast two crescent-shaped shadows under his eyes. He hesitated for a moment, then softly said, “You’re an excellent person. You have worked really hard.”

Loewen looked at him.

What’s with this kid? Why’s he suddenly saying this?

He casually replied, “Oh.”

Felix went on, voice even lower now, “So… what happened in class today, don’t let it get you down.”

Loewen understood.

Huh, sensitive kid. Is he trying to comfort me?

“I’m not upset,” Loewen smiled faintly.

But Felix looked up slightly. His gaze was flickering. “But… I’m afraid the others will start making fun of you again.”

Loewen’s expression froze for half a second.

Felix hesitated, about to say something heartfelt to reinforce the idea that I’m the only one who understands you, when Loewen suddenly reached out and gave him a solid pat on the shoulder.

“Felix,” Loewen said seriously, “People who spend their time mocking and looking down on others are nothing but clowns. I won’t let them affect my mood.”

“But… in future magic practice classes—”

Loewen shook his head lightly and cut him off, “It’s just magic classes. No big deal. I’ve already made my plans for the future. I know I won’t ever master magic, but that doesn’t mean I’ll end up a failure. I have my own path.”

Felix looked curious. “What path?”

Loewen’s lips curved upward slightly as he shared casually, “Before I even enrolled here, I already made up my mind. I’m going to specialize in potion studies and become a potion master.”

Felix’s puzzled expression gradually cleared, and he fell into thought.

Loewen added with a smile, “Everyone’s born with things they’re not good at. Instead of banging your head against the wall, it’s better to sidestep the obstacle. As long as you find the right track… anyone can shine.”

***

Late at night, when the world had long fallen silent, the lonely moon hung high above, its cold, silver glow filtering through the diamond-shaped windowpanes, casting a pale sheen over the empty corridor.

It was well past midnight.

The long hallway outside the third-floor boys’ dormitory lay deserted, draped in darkness, eerily still.

Tap—tap—tap—

Suddenly, a faint sound of footsteps echoed, soft yet steady, moving rhythmically forward.

From the shadows, a lone figure emerged, gliding soundlessly down the corridor. The hem of his black robe trailed behind him, brushing gently against the floor, stirring up a fine layer of dust.

The figure walked a little further, then slowed to a stop in front of one particular dormitory door. He stood still, unmoving.

Beneath the darkness of the hood, a pair of eyes glinted faintly. His gaze slowly traced upward along the doorframe, finally settling on the nameplate carved above:

Sayak Lombardi.

Felix quietly mouthed the name in his heart, then slowly closed his eyes.

The moment he shut off his sight, his hearing sharpened.

From within the room, to the right side, he could faintly make out a steady stream of snoring—loud, brash, almost thunderous. The kind that could shake the windowpanes.

He furrowed his brows, withdrawing part of his overly focused attention. Then, like a hunter adjusting his aim, he turned his senses toward the left side of the room.

Drip—drop—drip—drop—

Felix’s eyes remained tightly shut, yet a vivid picture began to form inside his mind, sketched solely from sound:

A loose faucet, from which tiny droplets gathered and fell one by one into the sink below.

Next to it, the faint gurgling of a toilet brimming with water.

And close by, the steady hum of a drainage pipe pressed against the wall.

That’s the spot.

Beneath his eyelids, his pupils shifted ever so slightly. He held his breath, gathering every thread of focus, and silently counted the seconds in his mind.

Crack—

Crack, crack, crack—

A fracture suddenly splintered across the solid metal pipe within the wall, like a spider’s web stretching outward, quickly widening into a hand-sized hole.

A heartbeat later, the sound of rushing liquid filled the air.

The foul-smelling sewage inside the drainage pipe began to surge backward, frothing up through the breach. It gushed onto the floor with a sickening splash, spreading rapidly outward like a dark tide.

Felix’s eyes snapped open, and in that instant, his pupils gleamed faintly like a nocturnal beast.

A hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips.