Snow drifted quietly from the heavens.
The towering mountain fortress of House Rosenfeld had long disappeared behind the horizon.
Only distant peaks remained visible now.
White.
Ancient.
Silent.
Kel walked alone.
His footsteps left faint impressions upon the snow-covered road before disappearing beneath fresh snowfall.
The northern wind tugged gently at his dark travel cloak.
Simple clothing.
Simple equipment.
A single travel bag.
Nothing more.
Nothing that would attract attention.
Nothing that suggested the young man walking along the road was Count Kel von Rosenfeld.
Lord of Frostbound Coast.
Founder of the Unwritten Horizon Guild.
Master of Sovereign's Orbit Sword Arts.
Heir of House Rosenfeld.
None of those titles existed right now.
At this moment—
Only Aedon Flinth walked the road.
A commoner.
An explorer.
A future student.
The identity felt surprisingly natural.
After all.
Kel had spent most of the previous two years living beneath various names.
Perhaps because of that—
Changing identities no longer felt uncomfortable.
It simply felt practical.
By midday, the northern city finally appeared before him.
The city walls stretched across the snowy landscape.
Tall towers rose into the gray winter sky.
Smoke drifted from countless chimneys.
Trade caravans entered and exited through massive gates.
The city bustled with activity.
Far more than usual.
Kel immediately noticed it.
The roads were crowded.
The inns were crowded.
The markets were crowded.
Even the city guards appeared unusually busy.
Interesting.
He quietly entered the city.
The streets were filled with young people carrying luggage.
Parents escorted children.
Teachers escorted students.
Groups of friends traveled together.
The atmosphere felt strangely energetic.
Hopeful.
The kind of excitement only appeared when countless futures were beginning simultaneously.
Eventually.
Kel reached his destination.
The Northern Teleportation Station.
One of the largest transportation hubs in the entire North.
The enormous building resembled a fortress more than a station.
Ancient stone walls.
Massive crystal formations embedded within support pillars.
Countless magical formations engraved throughout the structure.
The entire building radiated old power.
A relic from an age far older than the Empire itself.
As Kel entered—
He immediately stopped.
A line stretched across the entire station.
No.
Several lines.
The commoner section was particularly crowded.
Hundreds.
Perhaps thousands.
Students stood waiting.
Parents accompanied them.
Teachers organized groups.
The entire station buzzed with excitement.
Kel observed the scene quietly.
Then turned toward a nearby young man carrying two oversized bags.
"Excuse me."
The young man looked over.
"Yes?"
Kel gestured toward the endless line.
"Why is it so crowded?"
The young man blinked.
Then laughed.
"You don't know?"
Kel shook his head.
The young man immediately smiled.
"You must be traveling from somewhere remote."
"Something like that."
The answer wasn't entirely incorrect.
The young man pointed toward the crowd.
"Academy season."
Kel nodded slightly.
The explanation already made sense.
The young man continued enthusiastically.
"Current students are returning."
"New students are leaving."
"Academy entrance examinations are beginning."
"Everyone's trying to reach their chosen academy before registration closes."
His eyes brightened.
"I'm going to the Eastern Sword Academy."
Kel looked interested.
"Sword Academy?"
The young man nodded proudly.
"The best sword academy in the eastern provinces."
His grip tightened around his luggage.
"My father trained there."
"My grandfather trained there."
"Now it's my turn."
A small smile appeared on Kel's face.
The young man looked genuinely excited.
Genuinely hopeful.
Then another voice joined.
"I'm heading to the Arcane Tower Academy."
A nearby girl carrying a staff smiled.
"The entrance exam starts in twelve days."
Another student immediately joined.
"Southwind Military Academy."
"My brother graduated from there."
One by one—
Students began participating.
Discussing their chosen academies.
Sharing dreams.
Comparing ambitions.
The atmosphere felt lively.
Natural.
Human.
Kel listened quietly.
No noble politics.
No territorial disputes.
No power struggles.
Only students discussing their futures.
It felt refreshing.
Eventually the young man asked.
"What about you?"
Kel answered naturally.
"Aetherial Institute."
Silence.
The surrounding students froze.
Several heads turned simultaneously.
The young man blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then stared.
"Aetherial Institute?"
Kel nodded.
The group exchanged looks.
One girl laughed awkwardly.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
The atmosphere immediately became strange.
Not hostile.
Simply shocked.
Because among commoners—
Aetherial Institute occupied a mythical position.
A dream so distant it barely felt real.
Most commoners aimed for regional academies.
City academies.
Military academies.
Magic academies.
Trade academies.
Aetherial Institute existed in an entirely different category.
The young man scratched his head.
"...That's ambitious."
Kel nodded.
"It is."
The group looked at him differently now.
Not because they looked down on him.
Quite the opposite.
Because anyone confident enough to attempt Aetherial Institute either possessed tremendous talent—
Or tremendous insanity.
Possibly both.
Inside his mind—
Seiren laughed softly.
"They think you're insane."
"Reasonable."
"Most people don't casually apply to the most prestigious academy in existence."
"Fair."
Far away within Scarder Lake, the Guardian's amusement traveled through their soul bond.
Meanwhile.
Kel observed the station further.
The contrast became increasingly obvious.
The commoner lines stretched endlessly.
The noble section remained almost empty.
Not because nobles were absent.
Quite the opposite.
The noble area simply operated differently.
Private entrances.
Private waiting rooms.
Private teleportation schedules.
Everything separated.
Several noble families stood nearby.
Parents seeing off children.
Young nobles preparing for academy life.
Expensive luggage.
Personal attendants.
Elite guards.
The difference was obvious.
The cost alone prevented most commoners from ever considering the VIP route.
A single noble teleportation ticket could support an ordinary family for months.
Perhaps longer.
Kel quietly observed.
Then looked away.
Because the distinction held little meaning to him.
If he truly wanted—
He could purchase the entire station.
Not merely a ticket.
The entire building.
Possibly several stations.
Without touching a single coin from House Rosenfeld.
The thought was amusing.
The wealth generated by Frostbound alone was substantial.
The Unwritten Horizon Guild generated enormous profits.
The Mercenary Alliance generated even more.
And then there was the Spector Network.
The invisible organization spreading across the continent's shadows.
Information.
Contracts.
Operations.
Influence.
The revenue reports arriving each month were almost absurd.
Sometimes even Kel found the numbers slightly ridiculous.
And yet—
Here he stood.
Waiting in the commoner line.
Like everyone else.
Because Aedon Flinth would never use the noble entrance.
That would defeat the entire purpose.
A voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
An older man standing nearby smiled.
"First time applying?"
Kel nodded.
"Yes."
The man laughed.
"My son too."
He pointed toward a nervous teenager.
The boy immediately looked embarrassed.
The father smiled proudly.
"He wants to become a mage."
The boy looked away.
"Dad..."
"What?"
The father grinned.
"I'm proud."
The teenager became even more embarrassed.
The surrounding people laughed.
Kel watched quietly.
Then something occurred to him.
Most of the students gathered here would fail.
The reality was harsh.
Only a small percentage would succeed.
Even fewer would achieve greatness.
And yet—
They still came.
Still tried.
Still hoped.
The sight felt strangely inspiring.
Not because they were powerful.
But because they were ordinary.
The courage to pursue a dream despite uncertainty was often rarer than talent itself.
Inside his mind—
Seiren suddenly spoke.
Softly.
Thoughtfully.
"Interesting."
"What is?"
The Guardian remained silent for a moment.
Then answered.
"You seem happier standing here."
Kel blinked.
"Happier?"
"Yes."
Her voice carried curiosity.
"These people don't know who you are."
"They don't care about your title."
"They don't care about Frostbound."
"Or House Rosenfeld."
Kel looked around.
The students continued chatting.
Laughing.
Dreaming.
Planning.
Living.
Then he smiled faintly.
Perhaps.
Just perhaps.
Seiren was right.
Far away.
The Guardian laughed softly.
"Besides."
"What?"
"Watching the future Dragon Emperor stand in a commoner line is entertaining."
Kel immediately regretted acknowledging her earlier observation.
The line slowly moved forward.
Students advanced.
Teleportation circles activated.
Groups disappeared in flashes of light.
New groups entered.
The process continued endlessly.
The station remained alive with movement.
Alive with possibility.
Alive with ambition.
Kel adjusted his travel bag.
Then took another step forward.
The journey had truly begun now.
Not as Count Kel von Rosenfeld.
Not as Nameless.
Not as the Heir of House Rosenfeld.
But as Aedon Flinth.
One ordinary student among thousands.
One dream among countless others.
One future waiting to be written.
And somewhere beyond distant seas—
The legendary island of Aetherial Institute awaited.