Whispers ran through the noble circles like wildfire.
In just one weekend, a series of decisions were made by the king himself that would shift the atmosphere across the capital.
First and foremost, the king officially announced that Colt would not be held responsible for the death of Charles Maguire.
The declaration sparked outrage within the Maguire household. But their fury was short-lived, as the second decision turned the spotlight onto them.
Following Count Landon's initial interrogation, which had been conducted without royal approval but conveniently overlooked by most nobles since the situation involved his own daughter, the king ordered Marcus Maguire to be questioned as well.
The findings were damning.
Marcus had collaborated with Charles to abduct Lady Seila. Their motives, their methods, everything came to light under pressure.
But one mystery remained: the necklace. The one that could enslave minds.
Where had it come from?
According to Marcus's testimony, it had simply appeared on his desk one day. No sender, no signature, no trace.
Still, he had chosen to use it rather than report it to the kingdom for examination. That, in itself, was enough.
So the blame extended to the entire Maguire household, who would now face official punishment.
Another decision was made regarding the other necklace—the one Colt had gifted to Seila. The artifact that enhanced meditation by ten percent.
Some nobles, particularly those who held quiet grudges against Count Landon and feared his growing influence, requested that it be seized and stored in the royal treasury.
But the king refused. It was a personal gift, and it would remain with Seila.
He also made it clear that Colt would not be interrogated about where the necklace had come from.
The boy had willingly handed over a treasure to a noble loyal to the kingdom. If he were truly a spy, that would be a strange move.
Yes, it could be a clever deception, but the king had already set plans in motion to keep Colt under observation.
Besides, interrogating a commoner—especially one as young and gifted as Colt—could be counterproductive.
If the boy didn't want to talk, forcing him could create unnecessary backlash. It might even ruin the fragile trust forming around him.
And realistically, the Tona Kingdom wouldn't hand over something this valuable just for the sake of misdirection.
Another story—part rumor, part open secret—had also spread like smoke.
Colt was not special.
He was a commoner, through and through.
His background had been discovered, and once shared among the noble circles, it stirred something unexpected: sympathy.
A boy born to a missing spy. A family torn by war and espionage. A child possibly orphaned by political games far beyond his control.
But Colt himself... didn't know any of this.
When he created his ID, he didn't show any real files. He had used the officer there, casting a spell on him, to fabricate a background on the spot.
So, whatever file existed now, whatever tragic origin the nobles whispered about, he had never seen it.
Ironically, his friends—Hei, Seila, Myrin—they all knew.
It had been the subject of casual gossip around them, passed from mouth to mouth like every other court tale.
But none of them brought it up.
How could they?
Who would dare ask someone if they knew their father was likely being tortured for fifteen years?
Instead, they made a quiet, unspoken decision.
They would treat Colt better. That was all they could do.
And so, the weekend came to an end, leaving behind a trail of decisions, consequences, and rumors—each one more tangled than the last.
In the capital, one name now echoed louder than the rest.
Colt.
---
Monday arrived, and the students returned to the academy.
Naturally, the halls buzzed with talk of the weekend—especially Seila's birthday celebration.
Even Colt, who hadn't known the full extent of what had happened, had been brought up to speed by Hei.
As a commoner, Colt had no way of hearing these things beforehand unless he went out of his way to investigate.
When Hei told him that his background had become common knowledge, a chill ran down Colt's spine.
But before he could ask anything more, the classroom door opened.
"Everyone, I'm Oliver Tudor, the instructor for this class: Hunting Essentials."
Colt immediately perked up at the name Tudor. He glanced at Hei, who sat beside him, silently questioning.
Hei leaned in and whispered, "He's the second son of Marquess Tudor. Since he won't inherit the title, he became a teacher here."
Another Tudor... Colt frowned.
First Diane, now Oliver. Two children of Marquess Tudor he had never even heard of in his past life.
He could understand if they had died early, but even then, their names should have come up—especially Diane's, who seemed to be an elder sister figure to Seila.
And if Oliver was the second son, there had to be a first. Yet Colt hadn't known anything about him either.
I need to look into this soon, he thought.
"In this course," Oliver continued, "you'll learn about monsters, how to hunt them, the Adventurer's Guild, and more.
Most of our time will be spent in the field. You'll also need to register with the Adventurer's Guild. How many of you have already done that?"
Most of the class raised their hands—including the three young nobles, the second prince, Niter, and Colt himself.
That was to be expected. Everyone here was at least level 50. While it was technically possible to reach that through pure training, it took far too long.
Nobles usually hunted with their guards, and sometimes even with family. And since they were already hunting, they made it official by registering with the guild.
"Good. Almost all of you have. The rest should visit the guild in Lofpus City before next Monday.
You'll need a permit to leave the academy district unless you go during the weekend, so prepare for that by then."
Since it was forbidden to leave the academy district except for vacations or urgent situations, they would need permit to go there in week days.
He paused, scanning the room. "Now, who among you has the highest rank?"
Students glanced at one another, uncertain, until the second prince stood up confidently.
He didn't hesitate. He had reached level 72 over the weekend, burning off his frustration in the wilderness. And he'd been registered since the age of ten, the minimum allowed.
It was obvious. No one here would outrank him.
"Prince Antoine, what's your guild rank?" Oliver asked. He wasn't too formal or too respectful, but he didn't just call his name like Cecilia or Seraf.
"I'm D-3 ranked," Antoine answered with a prideful smirk.
Gasps filled the room.
In the Adventurer's Guild, ranks weren't directly tied to levels. But the quests were assigned a rank according to level.
For example, the D rank was for 70 to 90 levels, with sub-ranks: D-1 being 70, D-2 being 80, and D-3 being 90.
This meant that if there were a quest to hunt a monster that would require a 90-level hunter, it would be assigned as a D-3-ranked quest.
And now, a 72-level student claimed that he was D-3 ranked, meaning he could kill monsters that would require a 90-level hunter.
Of course, he took out his hunter's licence, which was silver, the color of the D-ranked hunters.
Seeing that, though, Colt snickered once more.