Damon completed the final rotation of the stirring cycle, his hand slowing to a steady stop as the liquid in the vial settled into a uniform, soft green glow, stable and consistent, with no visible impurities or fluctuations, exactly as the recipe had described.

For a brief moment, he simply observed it, his eyes scanning the texture, the color, the stability, ensuring that every step had aligned correctly.

And then—

He felt a slight movement against his shoulder.

Lunaria stirred.

Her nose twitched faintly as if catching a scent, her breathing shifting subtly as she sniffed once, then again, before her half-lidded eyes slowly opened, her gaze unfocused at first as she blinked lazily, her head still resting against him.

Her attention drifted almost instinctively toward the vial.

"...Mm..."

Without hesitation, she reached out, picked up the vial, and drank it in one smooth motion, as though it were nothing more than a casual drink rather than the result of a precise process.

Damon stared at her, his expression flattening slightly.

...Am I surrounded by dogs?

Lunaria lowered the empty vial and gave a small nod, her expression unchanged.

"Its good," she said simply.

Damon’s lips twitched faintly as he let out a quiet breath.

"I did all of this alone, and ’it’s good’ is all you have to say?" he replied dryly, though there was no real expectation in his voice.

Lunaria, however, had already moved on.

She straightened slowly, letting out a soft yawn as she stretched lightly, her posture relaxed and completely unconcerned, as though the evaluation had already been concluded in her mind.

Then she began walking from one counter to another.

Without urgency nor any expression.

She paused at the nearest pair, her gaze sweeping over their mixture for barely a second before she spoke in the same calm, detached tone, "Too much etherwater... it will destabilize the base and separate once it cools."

Without waiting for a response, she moved on, stopping briefly at another counter as she tilted her head slightly and added, "Skipped the heat stabilization phase, so the reaction has already collapsed, even if it looks intact right now."

At the next, she simply remarked, "Stirring sequence is incorrect, the order matters, and.... reversed it midway."

There was no praise nor any acknowledgment.

Only quiet corrections delivered with the same absent-minded precision.

When she reached Khaira and Zarhka’s counter, however, she paused slightly longer, her gaze lingering just enough to make the difference noticeable.

Khaira, who had been standing with her arms crossed, stiffened subtly under that indifferent scrutiny, while Zarhka lowered her gaze slightly, attentive but calm.

Lunaria leaned just enough to observe the mixture more closely before speaking in that same drifting tone, "You applied too much force while grinding, which damaged the leaf structure and reduced its effectiveness."

Khaira’s jaw tightened almost instantly.

Lunaria continued without pause, her tone unchanged as she added, "The temperature control is inconsistent, and the essence was added too early, which disrupted the reaction sequence....Its trash...absoulte trash...if someone drank this when they are ill or injured...they won’t need any other potion for lifetime.."

Zarhka nodded slightly, absorbing the feedback, while Khaira’s posture grew more rigid with each passing word, her frustration building as her eyes flicked sideways toward Damon, who was already watching her with a faint, unmistakable grin, their gazes meeting for a brief moment as Khaira’s expression darkened further while Damon’s only widened slightly in quiet satisfaction.

...Now my ego is satisfied.

His eyes lingered for a moment longer before shifting away.

"Good" is great.

***

Damon walked along the academy grounds with one hand resting in his pocket, his steps unhurried now as the tension of the week finally began to ease, the evening air carrying a quiet calm that contrasted sharply with the constant strain he had been under for the past few days.

Finally... this week is over...

The thought settled in his mind with a faint sense of relief, though it did not linger long before the next responsibility surfaced.

Tomorrow... I will have to do volunteering service again...

His gaze drifted slightly ahead, unfocused.

...It will probably be the old age home again.

A quiet sigh escaped him, not out of reluctance alone, but from the monotony of knowing what was coming next, as his steps continued along the familiar pathways, the golden light of evening slowly fading into the deeper hues of night.

And just like that—

The rest of the day passed.

Without anything remarkable.

Without interruption.

He returned to his dorm, the routine unfolding in its usual sequence as Sahira prepared the evening meal, their interactions minimal yet steady, the quiet presence of another person grounding the space even as unspoken thoughts lingered beneath the surface, while Damon moved through it all with a composed exterior, his mind occasionally drifting back to fragments of the week before settling again.

Night deepened.

The academy grew silent.

And sleep came without resistance this time.

***

Morning arrived.

Soft light filtered through the windows, spreading gradually across the room as the stillness of night gave way to the subtle movement of a new day, the faint sounds of the academy beginning to rise once more, signaling the start of another cycle.

Another routine.

Another task waiting ahead.

Damon walked along the academy pathways under the soft morning light, his steps steady as a small white sphere hovered beside him at shoulder height, its surface faintly glowing as it followed him with quiet precision.

"Are we going to the old age home?" Damon asked, his tone casual, though his eyes remained forward.

The white sphere flickered slightly before the Dean’s voice emerged from it, calm and composed.

"No... we will go there tomorrow."

Damon’s brows furrowed just a fraction as he continued walking.

"Then where are we going right now?" he asked.

The sphere gave no immediate reply.

Silence followed as they continued walking.

Damon did not press further, his mind already moving ahead as he walked, his thoughts aligning with quiet calculation.

Hmm... if we are going to the old age home tomorrow... then maybe...

After a brief pause, he spoke again.

"Can I take one more person with me tomorrow to the old age home?"

The white sphere hovered steadily for a moment before responding not with an answer but a question..

"Is it your blind date arranged by your father?"

They had already passed through the academy gates by then, stepping onto the quieter roads beyond as Damon let out a small, almost reluctant sound.

"...Ahamm."

The Dean’s voice returned, carrying a faint hint of curiosity.

"Last time you were so against it... and now you are suddenly taking interest? Even as much as to manipulate a whole classroom."

Damon exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed ahead.

"You sure know a lot about me," he said, his tone neutral, neither denying nor confirming anything further.

A brief silence followed as they walked.

Then Damon spoke again, his voice lower, more thoughtful.

"Even a king on the chessboard is just a pawn in the hands of the player," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued, "so until you can escape the board... you can only move as the player wants... and take whatever opportunities are thrown at you to break free."

The air between them settled into quiet stillness as they continued walking, the sound of their footsteps the only constant for a few moments before the Dean’s voice emerged again.

"Have you considered it the other way?" he asked.

Damon tilted his head slightly.

"Hmm?"

"Even if the king is just a piece on the board," the Dean continued, "the player will do everything in their power to keep it safe."

Damon’s steps slowed for just a fraction of a second, his gaze drifting into the distance as if weighing the thought before he spoke again.

"But... does the king want to be saved?" he said quietly, "maybe he just wants to fight on his own. He does not want to wait for his death every move."

They walked on.

Silence returning once more.

Until—

The atmosphere shifted.

A soft liveliness filled the air ahead, the quiet of the streets giving way to a more vibrant energy as faint laughter and excited voices reached them, growing clearer with every step.

"Hehehe...run, run!"

"Fast!"

"...Catch me if you can!"

"No fair!"

"You cheated!"

Damon’s gaze lifted slightly as they approached a small courtyard, its entrance marked by a modest yet well-kept archway, beyond which a group of children ran about freely, their voices bright and unrestrained as they filled the space with life.

He stopped just before the entrance.

His eyes moved upward.

Toward the plaque.

"Starlight Haven Orphanage"

A faint breath left him.

"...Why am I not surprised?"