Behind the pristine white ranger cape and the silver ornaments scattered across Duvilin’s vestments, there was a hidden symbol.

Just a small visible edge was enough to tell me that.

I slowly reached my hand forward, pushing part of the cape aside. The white fire touched my fingers immediately but didn’t burn. The sensation was too strange to call it heat. A faint tingling crossed my skin alongside a localized weakness, as if that flame were absorbing my OXI directly through my hand.

BEEP!

The sudden chirp of the comm dropped my stomach instantly, but I kept my expression neutral as I pulled my hand back from the cape.

"One second, Duvilin."

He stayed motionless behind me.

I activated the comm.

"What is it, Oliver? Problem?"

"It’s not Oliver, you bastard." Veric’s voice came fast and clearly worried. "What the hell is that energy leaking out of your room? What’s going on in there? Are you in trouble?"

’Shit.’

Of course they’d notice.

Duvilin’s presence was too heavy to slip past anyone even slightly sensitive to energy.

"It’s nothing, Veric. Go sleep. I’m just testing some abilities."

"Miss Rhayne said that energy isn’t yours, Sands. We’re coming over."

"NO." I answered too fast and had to recover. "Don’t come over. It’s fine... I just have... company."

I tried to sound casual, almost playful, as if I were hiding a woman in my room and not a ghostly elven soldier wrapped in ancestral white fire.

On the other side, Veric stayed silent for a moment.

"Hmm... I see... I hope it’s not Freya, damn bastard," he answered slowly but now whispering, still suspicious. "Let me know if you need help."

The line dropped.

I exhaled through my nose and turned my attention back to Duvilin.

He was still exactly where he had been.

Motionless.

Almost unnatural.

I touched the cape again, pushing it aside once more. The sensation returned immediately. The fire drained my OXI in a subtle but steady way, while the fabric felt... liquid.

There was no rigidity to it at all.

It was like touching extremely dense honey. Something viscous, heavy, and fluid at the same time—but not deforming under pressure.

All my doubts about Duvilin multiplied the very moment I got my first concrete answer since meeting him.

Behind the cape, there was no symbol similar to mine.

No surfboard.

No oceanic mark recorded in the libraries, not even like the Codex Hope.

In its place sat a perfectly circular emblem with golden borders. At the center, an enormous wave resembling a tsunami was etched in refined, extremely precise runes. Above it, five stars rested aligned in an arc, while the word Vel appeared written between the curved outline and the stars in ancient runic script.

But it was the inscription below the symbol that took the air out of my lungs.

Aionfrost Drifter.

The text was also written in old runes.

The whole composition felt military.

Organized.

Formal.

The visual distribution of the marks resembled Earth-style insignias of rank or elite division. Combined with his appearance, it was impossible not to associate Duvilin with some kind of soldier out of ancient elven fantasy.

So he really was a Drifter.

But Aionfrost?

Vel?

What the hell were these things?

"Duvilin... the mark on your back says you’re an Aionfrost Drifter."

He stayed quiet for a second.

Then he answered.

"I do not remember being an █░░██ ░░░█."

My entire body went cold.

His voice distorted violently in the middle of the sentence, exactly as it happened when Chronia tried to mention certain forbidden information.

It wasn’t coincidence.

All of this was connected somehow.

But how?

Why?

Where?

I ran my hand slowly through my hair while trying to organize the thoughts. For every answer I got, three more questions appeared.

Maybe it was better to stop there.

Pushing further now probably wouldn’t lead anywhere except more censored sentences and headaches.

Even so, I’d already confirmed the most important thing.

Duvilin was a Drifter or something similar.

"Duvilin. I promised you a fight... but let’s be honest. You’re far stronger than I am."

"The Master’s hope is immeasurable. I am only a soldier."

The answer came too calm for someone wrapped in supernatural fire.

Right after, he pulled out a chair and started leafing through some of the books scattered across the dormitory’s desk.

"Strange writing, Master."

I just stared at him for a few seconds in complete silence.

He definitely wasn’t an ordinary summon.

He had his own will.

His own curiosity.

He did whatever he wanted.

"Do you only know ancient runic script? You don’t know modern runification?"

"I do not remember."

My eye almost twitched in irritation.

He literally only remembered his name and now, apparently, his age.

Maybe...

"How old are you?"

"One hundred and seventy-eight years, Master."

Finally.

I straightened up immediately.

"All right... that’s progress. Do you remember anything besides your name and your age?"

"That you are my Master. Nothing else."

I furrowed my brow.

"That’s bullshit. How would you know I’m your master if we literally just made the contract?"

Duvilin stayed silent.

His posture shifted slightly, like someone being scolded without entirely understanding why. Then he stood up without answering.

He walked to the dorm door with slow steps.

"Hey."

Nothing.

His face stayed as cold as a statue.

"Leave."

He ignored me.

"Disappear."

Nothing.

"Undo."

No reaction.

My stress started climbing fast.

I ignited Eventide in my right hand. The shadow-blade formed instantly.

"Step away from the door."

Duvilin simply opened the door and walked out into the dormitory corridor, as if strolling through a museum. The slow steps echoed across the floor as he observed every detail of the academy around him.

My stomach went cold.

If anyone saw this, I was completely screwed.

"Soldier Aionfrost Drifter... disappear now!"

Duvilin finally stopped.

He looked at me over his shoulder, his back still turned.

And then he smiled.

It was the first genuine expression I had seen on that face since I summoned him.

His silhouette began to dissolve slowly into white smoke.

Seconds later, he disappeared completely.

I stood in the corridor for a moment, feeling the tension finally leave my shoulders.

I’d escaped a catastrophe. Or maybe my own death sentence.

Both had just passed dangerously close to happening, if any of the big names had seen that.

I went back into the room and closed the door behind me.

After a long, hot shower, I threw myself onto the bed and stared at the dark ceiling of the dormitory.

I let out a tired sigh.

"I really need a vacation..."