As evening approached, the setting sun cast a soft orange glow on the exterior walls of Charles Academy’s administrative building, as though they had been lightly brushed with a layer of color.

On the third floor, in the Dean’s office.

Security officer Mr. O’Neill Buck stood tall in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his hand lightly brushing over his meticulously groomed mustache.

“Are you sure everything you’ve said is the truth?” he turned around and fixed a sharp gaze on the young man sitting on the sofa.

Albert, his eyes unfocused, tilted his head back and nervously shook his shoulders, stammering, “I-I swear it’s all true. It was that red-eyed demon who did it… he’s the one who killed Andrew!”

At this point, his breath quickened, his throat tightening uncontrollably, his eyes bloodshot from the anger and fear building within him.

Just then, the gray-haired dean, Professor Jeany Cronin, walked over with calm, measured steps, holding a large, oval-shaped mirror out before him.

“This is the Time Reversal Mirror. Before you arrived, we had already retrieved the fragmented time records. Now, take a look for yourself.”

Albert hesitantly took the mirror, trembling as he peered into its reflective surface.

The image showed a darkened scene by Lake Celestara, where two clearly intoxicated young men wandered along the shore, laughing and shouting as they playfully chased each other. Chaotic spells flew through the air, and suddenly, the two collided with each other, both falling into the lake, disappearing without a trace.

Albert’s eyes widened in disbelief as his mouth hung open. “W-wha… what is this?”

He suddenly raised his head, looking desperately at the dean, trying to explain, “There was another person! There was someone with silver hair and red eyes! We chased him, he wore a cloak, and his eyes glowed in the dark like a demon!”

Dean Cronin calmly took the mirror back, her face hardening. “The Time Reversal Mirror doesn’t make mistakes. You and Andrew were the only ones there.”

Albert had no response, gasping for air as he felt like he was sinking once again into the suffocating, bottomless lake. “But I…”

Dean Cronin shook her head, silencing his protests. “A drunk person seeing things isn’t surprising.”

“How… how is this possible?” Albert muttered to himself, his head bowed, his disheveled hair falling over his face. His eyes were lost, and his entire being seemed engulfed in chaos.

“Albert Hatton, you and Andrew left the academy in the middle of the night to drink. An accident occurred on your way back, and Andrew lost his life because of it. For this, you need to take responsibility.”

Albert’s face turned pale with panic. “W-what… what do you mean?”

Dean Cronin sighed. “Punishment, compensation, and suspension. You can leave with your belongings today, and we will notify your parents about when you can return.”

Hearing that he wasn’t being expelled, Albert secretly exhaled in relief, his tense shoulders sagging.

Dean Cronin noticed the shift in his emotions and coldly added, “Go home and reflect on your actions, or your suspension will be extended indefinitely!”

Albert immediately nodded.

The dean’s furrowed brow showed no sign of easing. “I really don’t understand why you alcohol-addicts throw away your lives so carelessly.”

“… I’m sorry.”

“You should be saying that to Andrew.”

Albert left the dean’s office, his heart heavy.

As the door clicked shut, Mr. Buck, who had been standing by the window the entire time, took a few long strides forward and stood over the elderly but energetic dean.

“You just made a mistake, Ms. Cronin,” Mr. Buck said, his eyes sharp.

“The Time Reversal Mirror isn’t infallible. There are two situations that could cause errors: one, a powerful magical disturbance that distorts the time it can reflect. Two, the use of dark magic forbidden spells.”

Dean Cronin nodded slowly but firmly replied, “But you know as well as I do that neither of those scenarios would occur within the academy.”

Meanwhile, on the stairs of the administrative building, Felix closely followed Loewen up the steps.

“Miss Flenqi, where are you going?”

“I need to speak with the dean.”

“You’re looking for the dean? What’s it about?”

“It’s hard to explain… you should go ahead to the cafeteria for dinner. I’ll come find you once I’m done.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“You must be nervous alone. I’ll accompany you.”

“I… fine, suit yourself.” Loewen, with matters on his mind, didn’t have the time to argue and said no more.

Felix, inwardly pleased, followed closely behind him.

At that moment, someone came down the stairs, and it was none other than the dejected Albert.

Felix’s eyes barely skimmed over his lifeless face as he passed by him without a second glance.

Loewen stopped in front of the dean’s office, just about to knock, when the door opened by itself.

Mr. Buck stepped out, bowing politely to Dean Cronin before hurriedly leaving.

The dean rubbed her brow, looking somewhat weary.

Felix glanced in the direction where Mr. Buck had left, but after a fleeting glance, he quickly looked away.

Loewen, stepping forward, respectfully placed his hands in front of him and spoke, “Ms. Cronin, I have something I’d like to discuss with you. Is now a convenient time?”

Dean Cronin studied the two students standing in front of her for a moment, a little surprised. “Come in and speak,” she said, pushing the door open wider.

Loewen exhaled lightly and stepped into the office.

“Please, sit down.” Dean Cronin smiled warmly, turning her slightly corpulent body to wave her wand. The teapot on the desk began pouring into two empty teacups, which floated gracefully toward the sofa.

Loewen, now seated, thanked her and carefully took the still-steaming teacup, placing it steadily on his lap.

“You may speak now,” the dean said, as she poured herself a cup of flower tea, and brought it to her lips for a delicate sip.

The rising steam moistened her nose, and the fragrant floral scent wrapped around her senses, soothing her nerves.

Loewen straightened a little, and leaned forward. “Ms. Cronin, I would like to suggest something for the academy.”

“Oh? What suggestion?” Dean Cronin squinted slightly, fine lines at the corners of her eyes spreading like two little fans.

“I believe the academy’s grading system is flawed. Judging a student’s entire year’s worth of effort solely through the final year-end test—doesn’t that seem a bit too arbitrary?”

Dean Cronin leaned back against her walnut desk, flipping open a student directory. She quickly pulled up the file of the student in front of her.

Name: Loewen Flenqi

Family Background: One of the ten great magical families on the continent, a sponsor from one of the top eight families supporting the academy.

Admission Information: No magical talent, admitted through a large donation.

Academic Record: Ranked first in the mid-term of the first year.

“And what do you propose, Miss Flenqi?” Dean Cronin closed the directory, finding the situation rather interesting.