"J-just give me more time!"

Temba’s voice trembled slightly as the words left his mouth, his head lowered, his shoulders tense as though bracing himself for what was to come, while the burly man in front of him merely stared down with growing impatience, his expression hard and unmoved by the desperation in front of him.

"How much more time do you need?" the man asked, his tone sharp, carrying a clear lack of patience.

Temba hesitated, his fingers tightening at his sides as he struggled to find the words.

"J-just... some more..." he said, his voice faltering, "I-I am working hard... t-the children here... t-they don’t even have enough to eat their fill... they are struggling for their next meal, just—"

"I don’t care," the burly man cut him off coldly, his voice flat and dismissive, "I don’t care about them, or you, or whatever story you are trying to sell me."

Temba’s words died in his throat.

"You owe us money," the man continued, stepping forward slightly, his presence pressing down even more heavily, "and if you can’t pay it..."

He paused.

A slow, unpleasant smirk forming.

"...then you know what you can do."

Temba stiffened.

"You can earn it," the man went on, his tone turning suggestive in a way that carried clear implication, "you just have to—"

"NO!"

The word came out loud.

Sharp.

Immediate.

Temba’s head snapped up, his expression no longer submissive as he took a step forward, his voice filled with a desperation that bordered on anger.

"Don’t even think about it!" he said, his body trembling slightly.

The burly man’s expression darkened instantly, the faint smirk vanishing as his eyes hardened.

"...You think you have a choice?" he said, his tone dropping lower, more dangerous, "you’re already drowning, and you’re still acting like you have pride left."

Temba’s jaw clenched.

"You can’t even feed those homeless brats properly, abandoned by everyone," the man continued harshly, "and yet you act like some savior... pathetic."

Something snapped.

Before the man could say more, Temba lunged forward, his movements unrefined but driven by pure emotion as he threw a punch toward the man.

It didn’t land.

The burly man reacted effortlessly, his hand catching Temba’s arm mid-motion before twisting it aside and driving a heavy punch straight into his abdomen.

The impact forced the air out of Temba’s lungs as his body folded slightly, pain flashing across his face before he was shoved back roughly, stumbling and collapsing onto the ground.

"Hmph," the man scoffed, looking down at him with clear disdain, "next time, we won’t just ask."

He stepped forward once more, delivering a rough kick to Temba’s side before turning away as if the matter no longer deserved his attention, walking toward the back exit without another glance.

The door creaked.

Then shut as silence followed.

Damon remained where he was, leaning lightly against the wall, having watched the entire exchange without interruption, his expression unchanged as his eyes lingered on the spot where the man had disappeared.

...Interesting.

With that single thought settling in his mind, he pushed himself off the wall and turned away, his steps quiet as he walked back toward the front, as if nothing of importance had just occurred.

The rest of the day passed in a quiet, unbroken flow as Damon remained within the orphanage grounds, observing more than participating, his presence gradually becoming a familiar sight among the children as they ran through the courtyard, their laughter rising and falling in waves, their energy seemingly endless despite the conditions they lived in.

From time to time, they would call out to him, their voices bright and eager as they tried to pull him into their games, and although he resisted at first, he eventually gave in just enough to follow them, running a few laps across the courtyard with a group of children chasing after him, their small feet struggling to keep up as they laughed breathlessly.

...What am I even doing? he thought to himself, his pace steady even as the children behind him cheered, their excitement disproportionate to the simple act.

At some point, Temba returned.

There was no trace of what had happened earlier.

No tension.

No sign of pain.

Only that same warm, easy smile as he stepped into the courtyard, his presence immediately drawing the children’s attention away from Damon, their focus shifting toward him as they rushed over, calling out his name, tugging at his clothes, asking him to join them.

And he did.

Without hesitation.

Laughing.

Playing.

As though nothing had ever been wrong.

As though the weight Damon had witnessed earlier did not exist.

The children followed him, their attention fully captured, their earlier fascination with Damon fading naturally as they returned to what was familiar, leaving Damon standing slightly apart as he watched the scene unfold, his expression unreadable.

Time slipped forward.

The light softened.

The warmth of the day gave way to the cooler tones of evening as shadows stretched across the courtyard, and gradually, the energy of the children began to settle.

Then—

A soft glow appeared beside him.

The white sphere returned.

"Let’s go. It’s time to leave," the Dean’s voice came from it, calm and steady.

Damon gave a small nod before turning toward the exit, his steps measured as he began walking toward the door.

"Don’t you think you should at least say farewell to the caretaker?" the Dean added.

Damon let out a quiet sigh.

"...Fine."

He turned and approached Temba, who was still surrounded by a few children, his smile as natural as ever as Damon spoke.

"I think it’s time for me to leave."

Temba glanced around briefly, as if confirming the time, before nodding with that same warm expression.

"I see... thank you for today," he said sincerely, "and I’m sorry if the kids caused you any trouble."

Before Damon could respond, Temba turned toward the children, raising his voice slightly.

"Hey, everyone... our new friend is leaving."

The effect was immediate.

The children quieted.

Their attention shifting.

And then—

A small girl stepped forward, the same hesitation in her eyes as before, yet this time mixed with something else.

"W-will you come back... to play with us... and t-tell us stories?" she asked softly.

Another child followed.

"And run with us again?"

"And tell more stories!"

"And play next time too!"

Their voices overlapped, each question carrying a simple, unfiltered hope as they looked up at him, waiting.

Damon stood there.

Silent.

For a moment, he did not know what to say.

Before he could answer, Temba stepped in with a light laugh, breaking the moment gently.

"Now, now... of course he will come back," he said reassuringly, placing a hand lightly on one of the children’s heads, "but he won’t if you don’t say goodbye properly."

That was enough.

The hesitation disappeared as the children straightened, their expressions brightening again as they waved enthusiastically, their voices rising together.

"Bye Alex!"

"Come again!"

"Don’t forget us!"

"Next time you have to play longer!"

"Bye bye!"

Their smiles were wide.

Their eyes hopeful.

Even as a faint sadness lingered beneath it.

Damon looked at them for a brief moment, then gave a small nod before turning away, walking out of the courtyard without another word as the white sphere floated beside him once more.

They stepped back onto the quiet path outside.

"Someone seems popular with kids," the Dean remarked casually.

Damon didn’t even look at it.

"...Just shut up."

***

Night settled quietly over the academy dorms, the corridors dimly lit as most of the students had already retreated into their rooms, the usual noise of the day replaced by a soft stillness that lingered in the air, broken only occasionally by distant footsteps or the faint hum of mana systems running through the building.

Inside one of the rooms, a young woman sat on her bed.

Mira.

Her ash-blonde hair fell softly around her face, slightly disheveled as if she had been running her fingers through it repeatedly, while a large plush toy rested tightly in her lap, her arms wrapped around it as though it were the only thing grounding her in that moment.

Her face was flushed.

Her eyes trembled.

Fixed on the floating message above her manacron.

"I WANT TO TAKE YOU OUT TOMORROW, KEEP YOUR WHOLE DAY FREE IF POSSIBLE!"

She had read it.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out, her grip on the plush tightening unconsciously as her mind raced in circles, unable to settle on a single coherent thought.

Just then—

DING!DING!DING!DING!

A soft chime echoed in the room as Mira accepted the call.

Her manacron activated.

And a figure materialized.

Serena.

She appeared composed as always, her posture straight, her expression calm yet carrying its usual underlying sharpness as her eyes immediately fell on Mira.

"You are free tomorrow, right?" Serena asked without preamble, her tone casual but expectant, "let’s go out into the city, I have some shopping to do."

Mira’s body stiffened instantly.

Her thoughts, already in chaos, scattered completely.

"N-no... I—I..." she blurted out, her voice stumbling over itself as she clutched the plush even tighter.

Serena’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Hmm," she said, her gaze sharpening, "what do you mean by no?"

***

In another part of the academy, far removed from the quiet uncertainty of Mira’s room, a different kind of silence filled the air—heavier, more deliberate, as though even the walls were listening.

The dorm room was dimly lit by a soft, controlled glow emanating from embedded runic panels along the walls, casting long shadows across the polished floor, while the atmosphere carried a quiet tension that contrasted sharply with the calm exterior of the academy at night.

Celdric sat at the center of the room.

His green hair neatly arranged, his posture straight as he leaned slightly back into his seat, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers resting lightly against the armrest as his sharp eyes observed the two figures standing in front of him.

Celdric’s lips curved into a faint, controlled smile as he finally broke the silence, his voice calm yet carrying an unmistakable weight.

"The time has come..."

The words settled into the room slowly.

His gaze sharpened just slightly as he continued.

"...execute the plan as discussed tomorrow, and you will get what you want."