The morning air carried a mild crispness as Damon walked along the academy pathways in his uniform, his steps steady yet slightly heavier than usual, a faint yawn escaping him as he stretched his arms briefly, the remnants of a sleepless night still clinging to him despite his composed exterior.

His mind had not rested even for a moment.

I thought about it the whole night...

His gaze remained forward, but his thoughts turned inward.

And the only conclusion I arrived at is...

A faint exhale left him.

I need information.

His expression sharpened slightly.

About this Damon’s past... about Sahira... about whatever history exists between them... and most importantly... about my resonance.

The weight of it all settled clearly now.

And the only person who can answer all of that... is Duke Valecrest.

His jaw tightened just slightly.

...Which I cannot risk.

The thought was immediate and firm.

Asking him directly would only raise suspicion.

He adjusted his posture as he walked.

The maids and butlers back at the mansion... they might know something... but they are far too loyal... or too afraid... to answer honestly.

A faint scoff echoed in his mind.

And even if they did... there is no guarantee they wouldn’t report it back to duke.

His steps did not falter as his thoughts moved forward.

That leaves me with only two options...

A brief pause.

The first... an information agency in the city.

He considered it.

I could pay them to investigate... discreetly.

But his eyes narrowed slightly.

...No.

That means trusting unknown people with my background... and information like that always has value.

A faint tension settled.

What if they sell it... or worse... what if it reaches the wrong hands...

He dismissed it.

Too risky.

His hand reached the classroom door.

Which leaves me with only one viable option...

The door opened as he stepped inside.

The familiar atmosphere of Class S greeted him, filled with low murmurs and scattered conversations as students gathered in their usual groups, yet Damon paid no attention to any of it as he walked through the rows with quiet indifference, his destination already set.

The last row.

The corner seat.

He sat down leaning back slightly.

His thoughts continued without interruption.

I seem to have two younger siblings... right...?

Damon leaned back slightly in his seat, his gaze drifting across the classroom with quiet attentiveness, scanning faces, movements, patterns, until it paused briefly on Zarhka, who sat a few rows ahead, before moving on again as if nothing had caught his interest.

"Oye... you lookin’ for me?" a voice cut in from beside him.

Damon turned his head just enough to glance at Khaira before looking away again, his tone flat.

"Not now."

Khaira sat and leaned back in her seat with a wide grin, clearly unbothered.

"Hmph... so much for actin’ all high an’ aloof... why act so much if ya were just gonna shag her, huh?" she said, her heavy rolled accent thick and unapologetic.

Damon’s lips twitched slightly as he replied, "Did she tell you?"

Khaira dropped into the seat beside him more comfortably, resting her elbow as she spoke.

"Naah... I smelt it," she said with a smirk, "so how was a beastwoman’s pussy?"

A few students from the rows ahead turned back at her voice, curiosity flickering across their faces as Damon immediately brought a hand to his forehead.

"Why don’t you just announce it to the whole world?" he muttered.

Khaira only grinned wider.

"Don’t dodge me question," she pressed.

Damon snapped back, irritation slipping through.

"Why do you want to know?"

Khaira shrugged lazily.

"Well... if ya fight me—"

"Oh, shut up," Damon cut her off without hesitation.

And then—

Both of them moved at the same time.

Their bodies reacted before their minds fully processed it, instinct kicking in as they sprang from their seats to the side, just as thick vines erupted from the floor, walls, and even the desks, shooting upward with unnatural speed as they wrapped around students across the classroom.

Gasps.

Shouts.

Confusion.

Within seconds, most of the class was restrained, their bodies bound tightly as the vines spread like a living net, coiling and tightening with deliberate control.

Only a handful remained free—

For a moment.

Then another set of vines surged forward, faster, more precise, wrapping around the remaining students, including Damon and Khaira, binding their arms and lifting them off the ground as they were suspended midair, held firmly in place.

Khaira clicked her tongue, her expression annoyed rather than surprised.

"Tch... dat bitch..." she muttered.

Damon glanced at her briefly before letting out a quiet sigh, his tone calm despite the situation.

"...Which instructor is it?"

The vines held firm as the classroom settled into a strained silence, the earlier murmurs and reactions dying down under the sheer control of whatever force had taken over the space, and in the middle of it all, the door slid open without urgency.

A figure walked in.

An elven woman.

Her presence was quiet, almost detached from the chaos she herself had created, her silver-lime hair falling smoothly along her shoulders, her pale, almost colorless eyes carrying no warmth, no irritation, not even strictness—only a distant, apathetic calm as if none of what she saw before her held any real significance.

She stopped at the center of the classroom.

Her gaze moved.

Slowly.

Not lingering nor judging.

Simply observing.

It paused—briefly—on the few students who had reacted fast enough to evade her first strike.

Then moved on.

"I see..." she said, her voice soft yet devoid of emotion, neither impressed nor displeased, merely acknowledging a fact, "a few of you possess acceptable reflexes."

A faint pause followed, not for effect, but because she simply had nothing more to say on that.

"I am Instructor Sylvariel," she continued, her tone even, almost disinterested, as though introductions were a formality she neither valued nor rushed, "I will be teaching you Morpho-Arcane Biology."

The vines tightened ever so slightly—not enough to harm, but enough to remind.

"This world," she went on, her gaze drifting across the room without truly focusing on anyone, "is not limited to a single form of life."

Her hand lifted slightly.

And one of the vines shifted, forming faint shapes in the air. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

"Humans," she said.

The shape altered.

"Beastmen."

Then again.

"Other sentient and non-sentient entities."

The forms dissolved.

"And beyond this world... within breaches... exist organisms that do not conform to what you understand as natural," she continued, her tone unchanged, "some resemble known species... others are entirely foreign... unstable... or artificially formed."

Her pale eyes settled forward again.

"Yet," she said, "despite their differences... they follow patterns."

A brief silence.

Not for emphasis, simply because she spoke only when necessary.

"My role," she continued, "is to teach you how to identify those patterns... how to understand the structure and function of biological systems across species... and how to exploit that knowledge to your advantage."

The vines shifted again, briefly tightening before loosening just enough to maintain their hold.

"You will learn how muscles generate force, how organs sustain life, how different physiologies respond to damage, and most importantly... where they fail."

Her gaze passed over them once more.

Uninterested and unmoved.

"I do not concern myself with whether you understand immediately," she added, her tone flat, "you will learn... or you will fall behind... both outcomes are equally irrelevant to me."

"I do not want any disturbance during my lecture," she said, her voice still calm, still detached, as if what she was about to imply required no emotional weight at all.

Her pale eyes looked straight ahead.

"Otherwise..." she finished simply.

A faint movement of her fingers.

And instantly—Several sharp vine tips rose.

Positioning themselves near the necks, temples, and vital points of every suspended student.

Not touching ,but close enough.

Precise.

Controlled.

A quiet threat.

The vines did not move further.

The message was already clear.

The oppressive stillness of the classroom held for only a moment longer, the vines suspended in precise control as Instructor Sylvariel stood unmoving at the center, her expression unchanged, her attention already drifting past the restrained students as though the situation required no further supervision—

Until a sharp sound cut through the silence.

Crrk!

Then another.

The vine wrapped around Khaira’s arm split apart where her teeth had sunk into it, the fibrous structure snapping under sheer force as she twisted her body with raw, unrestrained strength, her muscles tensing as she wrenched herself free, fragments of the broken vine falling to the ground.

"Tch... what can ya do, ya bitch?" she shouted, her heavy rolled accent thick with challenge as a wide grin spread across her face, "I will fight ya!"

Before anyone could react further, she turned and grabbed Damon by the arm, her grip firm and unrelenting as she yanked him forward with her, her body already lunging toward the center of the room.

At the same time, Damon’s own restraint gave way.

The vines coiled around him tightened instinctively, but his muscles flexed in response, his body surging with strength as he tore through the bindings, the thick tendrils snapping apart under the force, splitting and unraveling as he pulled his arms free, the remnants falling away in pieces.

Khaira did not slow down.

Did not loosen her grip.

Her momentum carried both of them straight toward Sylvariel, her expression wild with excitement, her fists already clenched as she charged without hesitation, while Damon, caught in her advance snapped his voice carrying clear irritation as he was pulled along, his feet barely settling into proper footing before being forced forward.

"Why are you dragging me with you, you bullhead?"