As Professor Vaelhardt concluded her lecture, the classroom buzzed with murmurs as students reflected on the discussion about Ka. Some were still awed by the spectral projection she had demonstrated, while others, like Velren, had something else on their minds.
By the time lunch break arrived, Velren found himself in the cafeteria once again. Just like yesterday, he had bought the same lunch set as before and settled into a corner table. The familiarity of the setting should have been comforting, yet an unease lingered in his mind.
Alistair's answer.
Back when he had responded to the professor's question, he had claimed that there was no definitive origin of Ka—that scholars debated its roots, and its true nature had been shaped by various cultures over time.
And the professor had simply nodded and moved on.
That was what bothered him.
Because he knew otherwise.
When he was still too young for his own good, he had once sneaked into Gramps' library. Among the many tomes filled with forgotten knowledge, he had come across a book that explicitly mentioned that the concept of Ka had originated from an ancient and foreign land called Egypt.
So why had neither Alistair nor Professor Vaelhardt mentioned it?
Had that book been outdated? Or was there another reason?
Before he could dwell on it any further, a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Something on your mind?"
Velren looked up to see Kael sitting across from him.
He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head.
"No, it's... nothing."
Kael didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the issue either. Instead, he unwrapped his own meal and leaned back slightly.
Just like yesterday, Kael had chosen to sit with him despite the many empty seats available. And now, here he was again.
Velren sat down his utensils.
"You know, you don't have to bother sitting with me every day."
"Oh, sorry. Am I bothering you?"
Velren blinked before exhaling.
"Of course not."
Kael smirked at that.
"Good, because to be honest, I still haven't made friends with the other faculty members yet. This is my first year as an assistant, after all."
Velren raised a brow.
"What about Ilya? She's your friend, isn't she?"
At the mention of her name, Kael sighed.
"That girl is so engrossed in her research most of the time. It's starting to get to a point where I'm actually worried whether she even remembers to eat..."
So, in a way, they were both... loners, by circumstance, of course.
That was… kind of nice. Yet, at the same time, a little sad.
Before Velren could respond, a loud clank echoed through the cafeteria. His head turned toward the source of the noise.
A tray had fallen to the floor, along with its contents that were spilled across the tiles. A young boy stood frozen in place, his hands trembling slightly. Across from him, another student clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Can't you watch where you're going?" the student sneered.
He was tall, with dark brown hair that framed his sharp, angular face. His academy uniform was worn with a subtle arrogance—his tie was slightly loosened, and his sleeves were neatly rolled up as if to maintain a carefully curated look of effortless superiority. Standing beside him were a few others, their expressions were ranging from mild amusement to indifference.
The boy who had dropped the tray lowered his head.
"S-Sorry..."
Velren frowned as he took a closer look at him. There was something... odd about the boy. His features were softer, and his ears were noticeably rounded at the top but covered in short fur. Peeking through his messy dark hair was a pair of twitching animal-like ears, similar to that of a wolf or a fox. His violet eyes, slightly slitted, gave away something unmistakable.
A beastman.
Velren had seen a few in passing before.
Beastmen were often regarded with mixed opinions in human society—some respected their physical prowess and heightened senses, while others looked down on them due to outdated prejudices. Even in a place of learning like this, it wouldn't be surprising if he faced some form of discrimination.
Velren lightly tapped his finger against the table.
'So this is what Gramps meant…'
"Hey, Kael," he muttered, still watching the scene unfold.
"Is this kind of thing common here?"
Kael exhaled sharply, as if amused by the question.
"You'd be surprised." He leaned back in his seat.
"The academy is supposed to be a place where talent reigns over birthright, but reality isn't so simple. Discrimination exists everywhere—whether it's between noble houses, different races, or even among various tribes of the same species."
Velren's brows furrowed slightly. He had assumed a prestigious institution like this would at least try to uphold its ideals, but hearing Kael's words, it made sense. Old habits and prejudices didn't just disappear overnight.
"Beastmen, in particular, tend to get the short end of the stick," Kael continued.
"They're strong, sure, but humans—especially the nobility—see them as little more than savages. And trust me, it's not just them. If you're not careful, even you could end up on the wrong side of someone's prejudice." His gaze sharpened slightly. "So, listen. Don't get involved with people like them."
Velren didn't respond immediately. His eyes were still locked on the scene before him.
The dark-brown-haired boy, clearly the instigator, stepped closer to the beastman, twisting his expression into something more hostile.
"What, cat got your tongue? I don't remember beastfolk being this quiet," he taunted.
Velren could see the beastman's fists clenching at his sides. His ears twitched slightly, his tail flicking behind him in barely contained frustration. But he didn't retaliate. He simply took a deep breath, keeping his gaze down.
The noble sneered, clearly dissatisfied with the lack of reaction. He reached out, his fingers curling as if about to grab the beastman's collar—
'That guy...'
In the blink of an eye, someone was between them, gripping the noble's wrist with a strength that made the boy flinch.
"That's enough," Kael said smoothly.
He tilted his head slightly, as if amused.
"Really now, pulling something like this in broad daylight? You must be getting bolder, Mikhail von Edevane."
The boy—Mikhail—scowled, clearly annoyed at being addressed so casually. He wrenched his hand back, glaring at Kael.
"This isn't your business."
Kael smiled, but there was no warmth in it.
"See, that's where you're wrong. As an assistant, maintaining order in the academy is very much my business."
His tone didn't change, but there was an underlying edge that sent a clear message: Back off.
Mikhail clicked his tongue, darkening his expression. With a final glare at the beastman, he turned sharply on his heel and began walking away in frustration.
Velren exhaled, relaxing slightly—but then, a small idea crossed his mind.
He flexed his fingers slightly, and in that instant, something unseen slithered beneath the floor.
Just as Mikhail took his next step—his foot suddenly caught on thin air.
His body lurched forward, completely unprepared for the fall.
With a loud thud, he crashed to the ground. A few students nearby let out hushed snickers, while others turned their heads away to avoid his glare.
Mikhail pushed himself up, his face was burning red. He swept his gaze across the cafeteria, clenching his teeth in irritation.
"Tch!"
Without another word, he straightened his uniform and stormed off, clearly unwilling to make an even bigger fool of himself.
Velren let a small smirk creep onto his face before picking up his utensils again.
"That was petty," Kael muttered as he walked back to their table.
"I saw that, you know."
Velren took a bite of his food, shrugging.
"Must've been bad footing."