"So this is your first time attending the Academy," Adam said, stretching his legs in the carriage.
"As a student, yes," Elizabeth answered. "But I’ve visited many times. My father brings me for ceremonies and inspections."
Adam nodded slowly, then looked down at himself—small hands, tiny legs, childish frame.
"Nah," he muttered. "I can’t stay like this."
Elizabeth raised a brow. "What do you—"
Before she finished speaking, Adam’s body began to stretch upward.
Arms elongated.
Legs lengthened.
His shoulders broadened.
His face sharpened into adult features.
Elizabeth’s mouth fell open.
In seconds, he wasn’t a child anymore.
He looked like a man in his early twenties, tall, lean, absurdly attractive.
Adam stretched. "Now this is more like it."
"You... you’re not a kid?" Elizabeth said, shocked. Her voice cracked halfway through.
"Nope." Adam flicked imaginary dust from his sleeve. "I’m not a kid. But I was a kid. But not really. You get it."
"I absolutely don’t," she said.
Adam pointed at himself proudly. "This is how I looked in my old world. Well... almost. I wasn’t this handsome." He conjured a mirror casually and admired his reflection. "Damn. I look like trouble."
Elizabeth stared blankly. "You... just conjured that out of thin air."
"Yes," Adam said. "Yes, I did."
"People don’t do that."
"I’m not people."
Elizabeth took a slow breath. "Just... explain again."
Adam shrugged. "I died. Arrived in this world stuffed inside that kid’s body. It was a mess. So I fixed it."
Elizabeth blinked rapidly. "You fixed... being a child?"
"Yeah."
"That’s not... that’s not normal," she whispered.
Adam rolled his eyes. "Nothing about me is normal. Why is this the thing you’re struggling with?"
Elizabeth took another breath and steadied herself. "Alright. Fine. Then who are you really? And what is your talent?"
Adam leaned back casually.
"How many times do I have to say it? I’m Adam. And as for talent—"
He snapped his fingers.
The mirror vanished.
"I have none."
Elizabeth stared. "You just created a mirror and then erased it."
"Yes."
"Without a talent."
"Correct."
"That makes absolutely no sense."
"Exactly," Adam said with a grin. "I break sense."
Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. "Then what rank are you supposed to be?"
"Rank?" Adam laughed. "That’s adorable. I’m not playing that game."
"Everyone in the Academy has a rank."
Adam waved it off. "I’m not everyone. And your Academy can’t measure me anyway."
Elizabeth frowned. "Then why say you have no talent?"
"Because I don’t," Adam said simply. "Talents are for people who exist."
Elizabeth squinted. "...What?"
Adam tapped her forehead lightly. "It means what it means. Don’t worry about it too much."
Elizabeth didn’t move. She just kept staring at him, like her brain had stopped halfway through a sentence.
"You’re telling me," she said slowly, "that you have no talent, can change age whenever you want, create things from nothing, and sneak into the palace without alerting the guards."
"Pretty much."
"Then... what are you?"
Adam smirked. "A mistake."
Elizabeth flinched.
"A beautiful mistake," Adam added. "But still a mistake."
Elizabeth opened her mouth—
but a loud knock hit the carriage wall.
"Princess! We’re arriving at the Academy!"
Elizabeth straightened, still trying to steady her heartbeat.
Adam cracked his neck lazily.
"Good. I want to see what this place thinks it can teach Rebecca."
Elizabeth exhaled. "Please... don’t cause a disaster on the first day."
"No promises."
The carriage slowed.
Students outside were already gathering.
Elizabeth pushed the curtain aside.
And Adam leaned over her shoulder, eyes narrowing.
"Well," he said. "This looks boring already."
The carriage stopped, and the moment Elizabeth stepped out, a whole line of executives was already waiting.
At the center stood the Academy Head—Marcos Vareldi—a man known for expelling nobles and beating up arrogant prodigies when necessary. He wasn’t old, maybe in his late thirties, but he carried himself like someone who had seen too many geniuses come and go.
He stepped forward and bowed his head slightly.
"Princess Elizabeth. Welcome to Imperium Academy."
Elizabeth returned the gesture with a polite nod. "Thank you, Head Marcos. I look forward to learning here."
Behind Marcos stood the Division Masters:
Yorin, master of Outer Division, arms crossed, uninterested in anything that didn’t bleed.
Selentia, master of Inner Division, calm and cold.
Ralphon, Prime Division, already analyzing Elizabeth’s posture and breathing.
Kailas, the Apex Division keeper, the only one whose eyes held real caution.
Marcos stepped aside slightly. "Your arrival has been anticipated. The Academy is honored to have you."
His gaze shifted—finally noticing Adam stepping out behind her, towering and casual.
Marcos frowned. "And this is...?"
Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Someone accompanying me."
Adam smiled at Marcos like he was greeting a cashier. "Sup."
The Division Masters exchanged glances.
Kailas narrowed his eyes but said nothing.
Marcos turned back to Elizabeth. "We have prepared a short welcoming procedure. After that, you will be guided to the Apex Dorm."
Elizabeth nodded. "Understood."
As they began walking, students murmured from every direction, whispering behind their hands.
"She’s even prettier in person..."
"Legendary rank... we’re doomed..."
"Who’s the guy with her?"
"Her fiancé?"
"No way, he looks too relaxed for that."
Adam heard every word and chuckled.
Marcos continued leading them toward the main pathway. "You will also meet with your Division instructors today. They’ve been briefed about your talent."
Elizabeth kept pace, but her eyes drifted through the crowd—searching.
Adam noticed immediately. "Looking for her?"
Elizabeth nodded once.
Adam smirked. "Relax. She’ll show up."
And she did.
Rebecca dropped down from the upper walkway, landing quietly in front of the group. Students nearby backed away instantly.
Marcos stopped mid-sentence. "Rebecca. You’re early."
"I came to collect the princess," Rebecca said simply.
Elizabeth brightened. "There you are."
Rebecca’s eyes flicked to her—then to Adam.
"Adam, you bastard."