* * *
Weekends at Whitmore Academy were relatively relaxed compared to the weekdays.
However, that didn’t mean students were allowed to leave the grounds without permission.
If one wished to go out, they had to submit an application stating their reason to the dormitory warden and wait for approval.
Consequently, weekends showcased a variety of student life.
Some chose to catch up on sleep in the dorms, while others spent hours chatting with friends in the lounges.
The more active students played sports like soccer on the field or took leisurely strolls around the campus.
Those dedicated to their studies headed to the library, while students from the Swordsmanship and Magic Departments often utilized the training halls for individual practice—though this was primarily permitted only for third and fourth years.
Additionally, students from the Artifact Manufacturing Department could often be found holed up in their labs, immersed in research.
Chester had started his day early and had just arrived at the training hall. In some sections, he could already see fourth-year students engrossed in their practice.
Chester took a spot in an empty area and began setting up mana dummies for training.
A mana dummy was a magical tool created by the Manufacturing Department, specifically designed for mages to practice their output.
The structure was built so that it wouldn’t fall unless hit with a specific amount of mana, making it perfect for fundamental training.
Chester arranged ten dummies at regular intervals and slowly closed his eyes.
As he concentrated the mana circulating through his body into his hands, blue sparks began to crackle around him.
He immediately kicked off the ground, launching himself forward to strike the dummies with fists wrapped in electricity.
Generally, mages tend to have a main technique—a primary attribute. For Chester, that attribute was Lightning.
Among the basic attributes—Fire, Water, Wind, Lightning, Ice, and Earth—Lightning was considered one of the most difficult to control, yet Chester wielded it with absolute freedom as he systematically took down the dummies.
It took him just over two minutes to perfectly neutralize all ten dummies.
He had dispatched them at a terrifying speed, considering they wouldn’t budge without precise mana damage.
As Chester took a slightly ragged breath, the sound of clapping drifted from afar.
“Wow, impressive! As expected of the third-year top student.”
It was a group of fourth-year seniors practicing in another section.
They were whistling and calling out compliments, but the tone was closer to sarcasm than genuine admiration.
When Chester didn’t even spare them a glance, they clicked their tongues in unison.
“So damn arrogant for a junior……”
“Hey, quiet. What if he hears you?”
“Must be nice. Being the son of Duke Callaway and having talent on top of that. Life is so unfair.”
“Yeah, but look at that personality. It’s not like he has everything if he’s that stuck-up.”
The seniors snickered.
They thought they were being quiet, but unfortunately for them, Chester’s hearing was quite keen.
While Chester was famous and popular in many ways, that didn’t apply to everyone.
There were plenty of people like them who found his very existence distasteful.
However, such comments didn’t affect him in the slightest.
To him, it was far more beneficial to spend that time practicing or reading another page of a book than to care about such trifles.
“……”
Chester stood blankly, staring down at his palm.
‘I must be the best at everything.’
That was what he had been taught.
No—that was the only thing he had been taught.
While that singular thought dominated his mind, the training hall door opened again.
Thinking it might be those seniors again, he turned his head, only to see an unexpected visitor: Ruite.
Ruite walked in, blinking his large eyes slowly as he scanned the surroundings.
In the sunlight streaming in from behind him, his low-saturation silver hair seemed to glow.
This was the first time Chester had run into Ruite in the training hall on a weekend.
Just as he was beginning to suspect that Ruite had followed him under the guise of practice, Ruite approached him slowly.
“Chester, have you seen Dylan?”
“Dylan?”
“Ah, maybe you don’t know him? He’s a friend from the Swordsmanship Department, has curly hair…… and, well, his face is pretty average, so he’s hard to describe……”
“The one who steals your food every day in the cafeteria?”
“Oh, right. Has the rumor about him stealing my food reached even you?”
Chester’s eyebrow twitched at the way Ruite asked, as if genuinely surprised he knew.
“He hasn’t come here.”
“Really? He said he’d be in the training hall…… anyway, got it.”
As soon as he realized the person he was looking for wasn’t there, Ruite turned to leave without a trace of lingering.
“Did you really come all the way out here just to find that friend?”
“Yeah. He asked me to look at his practice from a mage’s perspective. Otherwise, there’s no way I’d be in the training hall on a golden weekend like this.”
‘So he didn’t come here specifically to create a point of contact with me?’
Chester remembered how, shortly after entering Whitmore, Ruite used to timidly follow him around.
Even if he didn’t do it openly, he would watch from a distance or use obvious lies to create “coincidences.”
But looking at him now, he really did seem like he was just looking for that friend, Dylan.
Chester’s gaze fell on the stray tuft of hair on the back of Ruite’s head.
“……Aren’t you being a bit too carefree?”
“Me?”
“You’re a fourth-year next year, and you have to take the Mage Exam as soon as you graduate, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you practicing individually.”
“What? You aren’t my professor, so why the sudden nagging?”
Chester’s eyebrow twitched again at the word “nagging.”
“Well, I suppose you only entered this academy because of me in the first place.”
“Huh? I followed you into the academy?”
Ruite pointed at himself as if hearing this for the first time.
He tilted his head for good measure.
Chester clicked his tongue at the blatant play-acting.
Chester remembered it vividly.
It was back when the talk of an arranged marriage between the two families was being finalized.
As soon as it was decided that Chester would attend Whitmore’s Magic Department, he heard that Ruite, the eldest son of the Everharts, had decided to take the entrance exam specifically because he wanted to follow him.
“Ahhh, right. I suppose that was the case back then.”
Ruite rubbed his chin, nodding half-heartedly.
“What’s with that reaction? Were you planning on pretending you didn’t remember?”
“No, I remember.”
Ruite shook his head.
Since it was before he had been reincarnated into the original Ruite’s body, the memory had been a bit slow to surface.
Still, he wondered just how much the original Ruite must have liked Chester.
He felt like he understood a little better why Chester disliked Ruite.
If a marriage partner you didn’t even like followed you all the way to the academy, it would certainly be enough to make someone of his personality feel fed up.
“But I really had completely forgotten.”
At the claim of forgetting, Chester’s brow furrowed slightly.
“It only just came back to me because you mentioned it.”
“Are you sure you actually remember?”
“Of course. On the day of the entrance exam, didn’t you say that to me? You called me pathetic and stupid for following you here.”
“……”
“Did you say I was wasting my life, too? See? I remember perfectly, right?”
Ruite rattled off the harsh words Chester had said, exactly as they came to him.
‘To follow someone to the academy just because you like them… he really was the type of character to obsess over affection until he turned into a villain,’ Ruite thought.
The signs were there from the very beginning.
Come to think of it, shortly after they enrolled, Chester used to wear a blatantly cold expression every time he ran into the Ruite who had followed him.
He hadn’t even tried to hide his discomfort.
If only he had reincarnated before entering the academy, he wouldn’t have done something so pathetic.
Then he could have avoided the death ending more easily and maintained a decent relationship with Chester.
Suddenly, the door to the training hall swung open, and Dylan poked his head in.
“Ruite, you idiot. I knew you’d be in the wrong place. I told you to meet me at Training Hall 1, not here.”
“You said Training Hall 3!”
“When did I ever say that? Stop making it obvious you weren’t listening and get over here, fast.”
‘I’m sure he said Hall 3.’
Ruite scratched his head with a confused expression.
Then, leaving Chester standing there alone, he walked out of the hall.
* * *
