Shortly After.
The Academy Headmaster, a venerable Archmage with a long silver beard and eyes that had seen centuries of imperial politics, adjusted his spectacles as he looked across his desk at Cassian. Lucien stood right behind the prince's chair, naturally acting as a human shield.
"Prince Cassian," the Headmaster began, his voice echoing in the grand, book-lined room.
"An instantaneous, silent Fourth-Circle spell that alters the academy's landscape... followed by the flawless martial defeat of a high noble. The faculty has reached a unanimous decision. You can no longer remain in the standard senior classes. Effective immediately, you are being transferred to the Elite Class."
Cassian's face instantly dropped into his default deadpan expression. 'Oh, great. Promotion. That just means more eyes on me, more difficult exams, and less time to take a nap.'
"However," the Headmaster continued, leaning forward with a sharp, testing gaze. "The Elite Class carries heavy responsibilities. To prove that your aptitude is genuine and not a fluke of magical instability, the curriculum demands a practical demonstration. Elite students are required to occasionally instruct the underclassmen. Your first test will take place tomorrow morning."
The Headmaster slid a syllabus across the desk. "You will be conducting a guest lecture on advanced Magic Theory... for the first-year prodigy class."
Cassian took the paper, his crimson eyes scanning the roster of first-year students. Suddenly, his gaze locked onto a single name at the very bottom of the list.
'Leo Valemont.'
Cassian's breath briefly hitched, a cold drop of sweat rolling down his neck.
'Leo...' Cassian's mind raced, searching through the messy archives of his sister's novel summaries and his own past fourteen lifetimes. 'Our younger half-brother. The son of the King's third concubine.'
In the original novel, the original Prince Cassian absolutely loathed his step-siblings. Born from a line that lacked pure royal blood, Cassian had looked down on Leo, subjected him to brutal emotional bullying, and treated him like dirt beneath his boots. Because of that tyrannical history, the young, quiet Leo had spent his first year at the academy keeping his head down, hiding in the shadows, and actively avoiding any corridor where his terrifying older brother might appear.
But that was the novel's Cassian. This Cassian didn't give a damn about bloodline purity or concubine politics; he was literally just trying to survive and go home. In past timelines, he had been too distracted by his own impending executions to ever pay attention to the quiet, distant kid.
'Wait,' Cassian thought, a sudden wave of academic anxiety washing over his modern student brain. 'I have to stand at the front of a classroom and teach a bunch of eager, overachieving fourteen-year-olds—including a traumatized younger brother who thinks I'm a sociopath? This isn't a magic test, this is a public speaking nightmare...fuck!'
*****
The next morning, the atmosphere in the freshman prodigy classroom was thick with nervous tension. The desks were filled with talented young nobles and commoner scholarship students, but none of them were looking at their notebooks. They were all staring at the empty podium.
Sitting in the very back corner, a young boy with soft silver-black hair and guarded, anxious eyes clutched his textbook so tightly his knuckles turned white. Leo Valemont was trembling.
'Why is he here?' Leo's mind was spiraling into pure panic. 'The rumors said he changed, that he defeated Damian Reinhardt... but why is he teaching us? Is he here to humiliate me in front of the whole class? Is he going to expose my weak mana pool to mock my mother's lineage?'
The heavy doors swung open.
Cassian stepped into the room, wearing a sleek, dark Elite Class cloak that flowed elegantly behind him. Right on his heels was Sir Lucien, his silver armor pristine, stepping into the corner of the classroom to watch the lecture with a hyper-focused, unblinking glare.
Cassian walked up to the podium, dropping a heavy stack of reference books onto the wooden surface with a resounding *THUD*. He looked out at the sea of terrified, wide-eyed freshmen. His sleep-deprived crimson eyes swept across the room, eventually landing right on the trembling form of Leo in the back corner.
The moment their eyes met, Leo visibly flinched, bracing himself for the usual cruel sneer or mocking comment.
Instead, Cassian just blinked slowly, his internal monologue letting out a massive, exhausted sigh.
'Look at that poor kid,' Cassian thought, observing Leo's tense posture. 'He looks like a college freshman who walked into the wrong advanced calculus exam by mistake. He's completely terrified of me. Don't worry, kiddo, I don't get paid enough by this empire as a prince to bully children. Let's just get this lecture over with so I can go find a pastry and stuff myself.'
Cassian picked up a piece of white chalk, turning his back to the class to write a massive, complex magic circuit diagram on the blackboard with absolute, effortless precision.
"Open your texts to page forty-two," Cassian commanded, his voice a cool, deadpan drawl that echoed clearly through the silent hall. "Today, we're going to discuss the structural flaws of standard incantations, and why most of you are wasting fifty percent of your mana on useless verbal pacing. Pay attention. I don't like repeating myself."
From the corner of the room, Lucien's eyes darkened with a profound, intense fascination as he watched the prince command the room.
And in the back row, Leo slowly lowered his textbook, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at the brilliant, calm, and entirely unbothered brother he had never known before.
*****
Cassian stood at the podium, completely in his element. Back on Earth, he had survived brutal university seminars, sleepless night-cramming sessions, and the absolute agony of trying to explain basic logic to his chaotic sister. Teaching a room full of fourteen-year-olds? Practically felt like a vacation compared to that.
He didn't just read from the dry, archaic imperial textbook. He cracked it open, picked apart its structural inefficiencies, and explained it thoroughly, clearly, and practically.
To demonstrate, Cassian raised his pale hand. Without a single spoken word, his massive Fourth-Circle core rippled. Wisps of crimson fire, brilliant blue water, and swirling green wind manifested simultaneously above his palm. With high precision and effortless accuracy, he twisted and turned the opposing elements, weaving them together to form subtle, glowing images and shapes—a miniature phoenix that dissolved into rain, a small dragon made of pressurized mist.
High up on a stone ledge outside the window, a small, unremarkable sparrow perched, its glass-like eyes reflecting the glowing magic.
Through the bird's sight, the Headmaster sat in his tower, completely in awe. The old Archmage leaned forward, his spectacles slipping down his nose. 'Multi-elemental synchronization... with absolute, pinpoint manipulation? At nineteen?' But more than the raw power, the Headmaster was utterly fascinated by the room's atmosphere.
The notoriously rowdy underclassmen were completely mesmerized. None of them dared to sneeze, complain, yawn, or even breathe too loudly. They were entirely immersed. Even Sir Lucien Arden had stopped shifting his weight, his ice-blue eyes fixed unblinkingly on Cassian's moving hands.
Was it because of his newfound, enigmatic personality? Were they simply too terrified of the "prince who executes people on a whim" to misbehave? Or were they genuinely captivated by a genius they had never seen before?
Cassian let the elemental shapes dissolve into a shower of harmless, glittering sparks. He wiped his chalk-stained hands and offered a rare, lazy grin.
"Now then, kids," Cassian drawled, tapping the podium. "Show big brother what you are capable of. Apply the circuit adjustments I just gave you."
The reaction was instantaneous. Instead of shrinking back, the students practically leaned over their desks, eager to show off their magic to the intimidating yet brilliant prince. Within minutes, nearly two-thirds of the class actually pulled the advanced spell off effortlessly. Though their raw mana reserves meant the shapes couldn't last for more than a few seconds, the sheer comprehension in the room was staggering. They clearly understood the principles.
Except for one.
In the far corner of the room, a young boy was struggling. Leo's hands were shaking violently as he tried to channel his mana. The magic circuit kept fracturing before it could even form, sparking painfully against his fingertips. Panicking, sweating, and trembling under the weight of his own perceived failure, Leo looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
Seeing the distress, Cassian slowly stepped down from the dais and began walking toward the back corner.
"Leo Valemont."
Cassian's voice, dropping back into its default sleep-deprived, cool tone, caused the entire lecture hall to instantly run dead silent. The other students froze, their eyes widening with terrified expectations. The old rumors of Prince Cassian's tyrannical hatred for his half-siblings flared up in everyone's minds. He's going to break him, they thought.
By the door, Lucien instantly stood up straight, his entire frame rigid, his hand violently gripping the hilt of his holy sword. His ice-blue eyes burned with a righteous fury. If he tries to bully or humiliate this child, Lucien thought, a dark resolve settling in his chest, I will intervene, even if it means drawing my blade against the royal bloodline.
Leo shook violently in his boots as Cassian's tall shadow finally fell over his desk.
"Big—brother Cassian!" Leo's voice cracked, tears rushing to his eyes. The sheer, deep-seated trauma of past bullying broke the boy completely. Before Cassian could even speak, Leo threw himself out of his chair, falling directly onto his knees on the hard stone floor. "I'm sorry! I—I promise I'll do better! I'm a failure... please, just punish me here! Don't look at my mother!"
A whole prince of the Holy Empire, reduced to begging on his knees. Had the child entirely forgotten his own royal blood out of sheer terror?
Lucien ground his teeth so hard a sharp pain shot through his jaw. He took a massive, heavy step forward. "Your Highness—"
"Lucien, stay out of this," Cassian cut him off, his voice flat, not even looking back at the knight.
Cassian reached down, his large, pale hands firmly catching Leo by his shoulders. Instead of shoving him or striking him, Cassian applied a steady, unyielding pressure, pulling the shaking boy straight up off the floor.
Leo flinched violently, his head tucked into his chest, tightly closing his eyes to avoid any direct contact with the monster he called a brother.
"What are you even doing right now?" Cassian sighed, his voice completely devoid of malice, carrying only the profound exhaustion of an older sibling dealing with a dramatic teenager. "Sit back in your chair and let big brother teach you."
Leo reluctantly cracked one eye open, staring at Cassian in an absolute, stunned disbelief.
Cassian chuckled softly, raising his hand to gently flick Leo right on the forehead.
Flick.
"Sit down quickly," Cassian murmured, pulling out the wooden chair for him. "Or don't you want to learn? Come on, the others still need my assistance too, and we don't have much time left before the bells ring."
Before Leo could even process what was happening, Cassian knelt down on one knee, casually using his own hands to brush the gray dungeon dust and dirt off Leo's uniform trousers. He helped the frozen, bewildered boy get comfortably seated, then leaned over the desk, pulling Leo's textbook closer.
"Your mana circuit isn't weak, Leo," Cassian explained softly, his finger tracing a line on the boy's notebook, his tone patient and steady. "It's crowded. You're trying to force the magic through your primary core channels all at once because you're rushing. Breathe. Let the mana pool settle in your lower diaphragm first, then let it flow like water, not oil."
Cassian spent the next ten minutes murmuring instructions, his calm, unbothered presence acting like a soothing anchor that slowly forced Leo's frantic breathing to stabilize. And right before he stood up to check on the rest of the class, Cassian leaned in, lowering his voice so only the boy could hear.
"Don't worry about your core limits for now," Cassian murmured with a subtle, reassuring wink. "After the academy hours, come to my private study. Big brother will teach you a specific breathing exercise to permanently expand that mana pool of yours. Got it?"
Leo could only nod dumbly, his heart swelling with a strange, overwhelming emotion he had never felt in his entire life. Safety.
Cassian stood up, completely unaware of the absolute mental cataclysm he had just caused in the room. He casually strolled back to the blackboard, completely relaxed.
Behind him, Lucien stood completely frozen in the shadows, his hand slowly falling away from his sword hilt. His heart was hammering against his ribs, but not from anger.
'He... he didn't strike him, he raised him up and protected his dignity. The way he looked at that child... it wasn't the gaze of a tyrant. It was the tender, fiercely protective warmth of a true older brother.'
Lucien watched Cassian slender fingers pick up the chalk again, his ice-blue eyes tracking the slight, peaceful hum vibrating from the prince's chest.
'Cassian...' Lucien thought, his chest tightening with a dangerous, heavy obsession that felt entirely entirely inescapable now. 'You act like a monster to the high nobles, you execute the corrupt without a trial, yet you kneel in the dirt to brush the dust off a forgotten concubine's son. What the hell are you up to?'
*****
The sharp, echoing chime of the academy bell rang through the lecture hall, officially signaling the end of the period.
A collective, disappointed groan subtly rippled through the desks. The first-year prodigies looked at their notebooks, then back up at the podium, desperately wishing the clock would move backward. For the first time in their academic lives, a lecture had felt less like a chore and more like a revelation. But deep down, they all knew the harsh reality: this was likely the only time they would ever receive a lecture from the cold, enigmatic Prince Cassian.
Well, except for one.
Leo sat rigidly at his desk, his eyes wide and bright, clutching his notebook to his chest like a sacred relic. His heart was hammering, but the paralyzing terror from before had completely melted into a dizzying, hopeful awe.
Cassian casually stacked his reference books on the podium, tapping the edges into a neat pile. He slid them under his arm, swept his dark Elite Class cloak over his shoulder, and made his way toward the double doors without a single backward glance.
"Class dismissed," Cassian drawled, his voice a cool, trailing murmur. "Don't forget to practice those breathing channels. Now let's never see each other again."
Lucien stepped out of the shadows, falling seamlessly into place exactly one step behind the prince. His posture was rigid, but his mind was a turbulent storm as he kept his eyes locked onto the side of Cassian's face as they walked to the headmaster's office.
"Astounding. Truly astounding, Prince Cassian," the Headmaster beamed, his long silver beard twitching with pride as he watched Cassian set the syllabus back on his desk. The magical sparrow had already returned, transferring its memory crystal directly to the old Archmage's desk. "Not only did you display a flawless, practical grasp of multi-elemental theory, but your control over the student body... I have never seen a freshman class so utterly compliant."
Cassian rested his chin on his hand, his expression a deadpan mask of pure boredom. 'Yeah, well, it's amazing what kids will do when they think a single yawn will get them sent to the executioner's block. Let's just wrap this up.'
"As promised," the Headmaster continued, sliding a gleaming, gold-trimmed obsidian badge across the polished wood. "You are officially recognized as an Elite Student of the Imperial Academy. Your new quarters, schedule, and class placement have already been finalized. Go forth, Your Highness. Show the upper echelons what the Valemont bloodline is truly capable of."
Cassian picked up the heavy badge, tossing it lightly in his palm with a silent, internal sigh. 'Great. More work.'
*****
When Cassian stepped through the grand double doors of the Senior Elite Lecture Hall the following morning, he was instantly met with a suffocating wave of thick, aristocratic pressure. The room was small, designed like a luxury courtroom, and filled with only the top tier of the empire's youth.
Instantly, a dozen sharp, calculating gazes locked onto him.
The air was thick with a volatile mixture of fierce competition, open hostility, and burning curiosity. Cassian swept his crimson eyes across the room, recognizing almost every single face at a glance. Look at this, he thought, his modern mind instantly mapping out their fates from his previous lives experiences. 'That guy over there becomes the legendary Holy Crusader in timeline seven. The girl by the window becomes Adrian's primary financial backing. And those three in the front row are the notorious bootlickers who helped Adrian poison my tea in timeline twelve.'
He had walked straight into a den of noble vipers and prestige. But Cassian didn't flinch. He simply walked to the most isolated seat in the back row, sat down, and leaned his head back. Let them plot. Let them stare. As long as they don't block my way to the library, I don't care even if they build a shrine for Adrian right in front of me.
Cassian sat rigidly in his desk, the heavy gold-and-obsidian badge pinned to his chest feeling more like a target than a symbol of prestige. The atmosphere in the room was a volatile mix of guarded tension and unspoken fury. Most of his classmates were entirely wary of him, their eyes tracking his slightest movements like soldiers watching an unexploded bomb. Some detested him for his notoriously tyrannical personality; others harbored deep, blood-soaked family grudges from past political purges. And a select few were simply burning with a dangerous curiosity about His Imperial Majesty's sudden, terrifying magical breakthrough.
'Damnit!' Cassian thought, his modern soul screaming in pure frustration as he rested his chin on his palm. 'Just because I woke up inside this absolute scumbag's body, why do I have to be the one suffering for his endless list of sins?'
"Your Highness..."
A voice snapped Cassian back to reality. Standing at the front podium, the professor forced a wide, painfully awkward smile. Her lips were trembling violently, and her shaking hands desperately gripped the edges of the lesson plan. It was Professor Lindsay, a notoriously soft-hearted academic who had survived the original Cassian's tantrums in previous semesters.
"It is... truly good to have you back in my lecture hall this year," she stammered, her voice cracking slightly as her actions completely contradicted her polite words. "I hope... I hope teaching you again this year will be worth it."
"Do take care of me again... Professor," Cassian replied. His voice came out entirely too bold, yet it carried a low, lazy, sleep-deprived cadence.
Because he was fighting off a lingering hangover and massive existential dread, his crimson eyes remained utterly freezing. The deadpan stare sent a massive, icy shiver straight down Professor Lindsay's spine. She couldn't hold herself back anymore; her knees shook, and she began visibly trembling like a leaf in a storm.
Behind his chair, Lucien Arden leaned forward slightly, his ice-blue eyes piercing through the side of Cassian's head before shifting a dark, suspicious glare toward the sweating professor.
'Fucking hell, don't look at me like that, Lucien! I did nothing!' Cassian panicked internally, his poker face remaining completely blank. 'I never asked to possess the body of a tyrannical jerk, okay?! My crazy sister is the one who shoved me into garbage character!'
Seeing the woman look so thoroughly pale, Cassian decided to try a modern approach of basic human kindness. "Professor... are you perhaps feeling cold?"
The entire lecture hall instantly froze. Every single elite student turned around to look at Cassian at once, their faces twisting into identical, horrified frowns as if thinking the same thing. 'Are you seriously asking that right now? Of course she's not cold, you absolute psycho, she's terrified of you!'
"Mhm, I don't know whether I may be of assistance," Cassian continued smoothly, his low voice carrying across the quiet room as he reached for the hem of his dark royal uniform jacket. "But let me borrow you my blazer to ease the chill."
"N-No! No, no, Your Highness!—"
Professor Lindsay violently short-circuited. The sheer terror of the "tyrant prince" offering her his personal royal garment triggered a massive panic attack. She collapsed directly onto her knees on the hard stone floor, groveling and pleading as if her life depended on it. Tears violently rushed down her face, her chest heaving as she sobbed out loud.
"I'm sorry! I really am sorry, Your Highness! I'm not cold! Truly, I am not feeling cold at all! Re-ally, I'm okay! Please, spare my family!"
The scene was utterly grotesque. A highly respected, soft-hearted academic professor kneeling in the dirt, crying and begging for mercy from a nineteen-year-old student just because he offered her a jacket. Even for an imperial prince, the display was deeply unpleasant and uncomfortable.
Cassian shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his stomach churning as a sudden, suffocating wave of holy pressure erupted from behind him. Lucien had stepped closer, the sheer hostility radiating off the knight's armored frame making Cassian's body hair stand on end.
'What did I even do except to offer a piece of clothing?!' Cassian wanted to weep. 'Professor Lindsay, please just get up off the floor! Stop crying and stop begging! I didn't do anything to you, damnit!'
"Haaaa... so noisy," Cassian let out a long, heavy sigh, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them.
The word noisy hit the room like a death sentence. Professor Lindsay let out a terrified shriek, instantly bowing her head all the way to the floor and violently banging her forehead against the polished stone. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry for making a noise! I'm sorry for crying! Forgive me! Forgive me!"
*CLACK.*
Lucien took another deliberate step closer to Cassian's back, his hand hovering over the pommel of his blade. Cassian internally flinched, holding his breath as his jaw tightened in sheer, panicked stress. To the rest of the classroom, however, that sharp clenching of his jaw looked like a tyrant growing violently annoyed by a pathetic spectacle. In their minds, a head could go rolling across the podium at any second.
Driven by sheer desperation to protect their beloved teacher, three noble students in the front row leaped down from their desks. They lunged forward, physically shielding Professor Lindsay from Cassian's line of sight, while a brave, high-ranking marquis's son stepped forward to apologize on her behalf.
"Your Highness, forgive me for speaking out of turn!" the boy declared, placing his hand flat over his chest and offering a rigid bow. "And please do forgive this humble soul for whatever offense she has caused you. Our teacher seems to be feeling heavily unwell today. We will quickly escort her outside to the medical wing."
"Do that..." Cassian replied flatly. He had completely run out of things to say. He was genuinely, utterly flabbergasted by her reaction towards him.
The students carefully hoisted the weeping, hyperventilating professor to her feet and led her out of the double doors. A heavy, suffocating silence settled over the room. The remaining elite classmates glared at Cassian with unpleasantly dark, resentful eyes. Yet, because of his terrifying reputation, nobody dared to voice out their discontent out loud.
Except for the massive shadow standing directly behind him.
'Truly shameless and wicked,' Lucien grit his teeth, his fists clenching until his leather gloves creaked. His ferocious, ice-blue eyes remained glued to the back of Cassian's head, burning with a mix of righteous disgust. 'Prince Cassian... you truly are the most vicious, unyielding scumbag this holy knight has ever encountered. To torment an innocent woman to the point of madness just to show your power... truly despicable.'
'If he had a gun in this medieval world, I would have been dead three minutes ago,' Cassian thought, a cold sweat dripping down his spine as he felt Lucien's gaze piercing through his skull. 'I bet he's measuring the exact angle of my vertebrae for decimation right now. God help me.'
******