Chapter 209

When the first day of the week arrived, Kana did not rush it.

Winter pressed hard against the orphanage, the wind howling through the gaps between buildings like something alive and dissatisfied. Frost clung to the edges of windows, and the sky carried that pale gray color that promised no warmth, only endurance. Kana took her time dressing, listening to the way the wind worried at the walls, as if trying to remind the world who was in charge.

Most of the children were still deep in sleep, bundled beneath thin blankets. Only a few figures moved through the orphanage house. Aldo, already alert as ever, stood near the door checking the locks. Lily hummed softly as she prepared the morning milk. Shar was awake too, sorting herbs, her eyes sharp despite the early hour. They ate all their breakfast, peacefully.

Before they left, Shar and Lily gathered them briefly, voices low, expressions serious. A last-minute warning. Be careful around boys your age.

Kana nodded, filed it away, and stepped out into the cold.

They were halfway to the carriage when the shriek tore through the morning.

Sharp. High. Almost metallic.

Kana spun on instinct, hand already moving before her thoughts caught up. The sound came from near the wagon, where Thorne skidded across the frost-dusted ground, claws scraping, tail whipping wildly. The small lizard planted itself directly in their path, horn angled upward like a challenge.

Shar moved first, crouching and scooping it up with gentle hands. “Now, now—”

Thorne wriggled violently, twisting free with surprising strength, then bolted straight back toward them. It circled Boris once, twice, and let out another sharp cry, louder this time, as if offended at the idea of being left behind.

Shar watched the display, then sighed, the sound heavy with understanding. “It’s already bonded to you,” she said. “Rare, especially without tamer skills. But it sometimes happens.”

Boris’s brows knit together. He glanced toward the carriage, then back at the lizard clinging stubbornly to his boot. “I feel bad,” he admitted. “But bringing Thorne to the academy… that’s going to be difficult.”

Shar’s gaze hardened just a little. “Then let me be clear. If you leave it behind now, it may get sick.” She paused. “Or worse, die. Magical beasts like this don’t handle separation well. It’s looking at you as its parent.”

The word landed with weight.

Kana crossed her arms, studying Thorne as it pressed closer to Boris, horn brushing his leg. “Then bring it,” she said simply.

Suri nodded immediately. “Agreed. You must take responsibility as her father.”

Boris hesitated, caught between reason and responsibility, then let out a long breath. “Alright,” he said, surrendering at last.

He crouched, then jumped forward and scooped Thorne up in one smooth motion. The lizard chirped happily, tail wagging in quick, excited flicks as it settled against his shoulder, completely content.

Kana allowed herself a small smile. “I’ll take the reins for now,” she said, climbing into position.

The wagon creaked as it began to move, wheels cutting through frost, the orphanage shrinking behind them as winter swallowed the road ahead.

……

They arrived early, earlier than expected.

For the copper class, this was normal. Their first lecture still lay an hour or two ahead, a pocket of stolen time tucked into the winter morning. But for the rest of the academy, the day was already in motion. Bells had rung. Doors had closed. Lessons had begun. Only a handful of students crossed the wide stone paths now, their breath fogging the air as they hurried toward distant buildings.

The academy itself loomed as it always did. Tall spires cutting into the pale sky, banners snapping sharply in the cold wind, stone warmed faintly by wards Kana couldn’t see but could feel. It was awake. Watching.

As they passed through the main gate, Boris took two more steps before space folded in front of him.

A man was suddenly there.

No footsteps. No warning. One blink and the guard stood directly in Boris’s path, armor gleaming faintly with etched runes. Kana felt a subtle ripple in the air, the unmistakable residue of a short-range movement skill. [Blink], or something close enough to share its scent.

Boris froze.

“Yes, sir?” he said, a beat too late.

The guard’s eyes dropped immediately to Boris’s shoulder, where Thorne sat curled, horn catching the morning light. The lizard tilted its head, tongue flicking out, utterly unconcerned with authority.

“That little lizard,” the guard said calmly, “is not registered.”

Boris swallowed and nodded. “Y-Yes. First time here.”

“Is that so?” The guard straightened and pointed toward a squat administrative building near the inner wall. “Take it there. Registration office. They’ll explain the rules and regulations regarding beasts or pets on academy grounds.”

His gaze flicked back to Thorne, then returned to Boris, slow and assessing. “Registration isn’t cheap.”

Before Boris could respond, Suri leaned in with a bright, innocent smile and waved toward Kana. “He might look poor,” she said cheerfully, “but the lady here can handle that.”

Kana felt something inside her soul sigh.

Boris ignored Suri entirely. He leaned closer to Kana and whispered, voice low and urgent, “Can I borrow some coin?”

Thorne chirped softly, tail wagging, blissfully unaware that its continued presence now came with paperwork, fees, and the quiet judgment of academy bureaucracy.

….

Kana and Suri slipped into the copper classroom, and sound immediately washed over them.

The room buzzed like a disturbed hive. Conversations overlapped, laughter ricocheted off stone walls, chairs scraped as students leaned too far back or clustered too close together. Someone near the windows argued loudly about powerful monsters ranking, while another group debated whether the academy food had somehow gotten worse overnight. The copper classroom had long since stopped being just a classroom. In the mornings, before lessons began, it became a marketplace of gossip, bravado, and half-formed ambitions.

Rin spotted them first and waved enthusiastically. The earrings they had bought the night before caught the light, tiny sparks of silver and blue dancing as she moved. She clearly wanted them to notice.

Adam, on the other hand, didn’t wave. He craned his neck toward the hallway, eyes sharp, then frowned when he didn’t see a familiar towering figure. He walked over, lowering his voice. “Where’s Boris?”

“He’ll be late,” Suri said lightly, dropping into her seat. “Ran into some trouble with his new daughter.”

Adam blinked. “Daughter?”

“I knew it!” Roy suddenly exclaimed from behind them, hands clasped together as if a prophecy had finally come true.

Kana rubbed her temple as she sat beside Rin. Whatever chaos Boris was dealing with, it would probably grow another head by lunchtime.

Her mind, however, was already elsewhere.

The Phantom Thief.

Her gaze drifted across the room until it landed on Toby. Of course it did. He was surrounded by students from another class, standing atop a chair for emphasis, hands slicing the air as he spoke. Whatever story he was telling had them leaning in, hungry for every word.

Ask the self-proclaimed king of rumors, Kana thought. If anyone had scraps of truth wrapped in exaggeration, it would be him.

“Toby!” Kana called out.

Her voice cut cleanly through the chatter.

Toby flinched, then grinned. “You sound serious. President.”

He hopped down and sauntered over. “What is it?”

“Do you know anything about the Phantom Thief?” Kana asked bluntly.

That wiped the grin from his face.

Toby’s eyes narrowed, and he slowly walked toward the professor’s desk as if being drawn there by fate. He sat on it, folded his arms, and puffed up his chest.

“Who do you think I am? Of cou—”

The door opened.

Professor Wor-en entered with the quiet authority of someone who never needed to raise his voice. The room didn’t fall silent, but it dimmed, like a fire banked with ash. He took in the scene with one glance.

“I’m just here to observe,” he said calmly, settling onto the edge of the desk with a bundle of parchments. “Continue as you were.”

Toby stood so fast his chair nearly tipped. “Good morning, Professor!”

Wor-en nodded and began reading, apparently uninterested in the dramatic tension unfolding inches away.

Toby cleared his throat and leaned forward again, lowering his voice but somehow making it carry. “Right. The Phantom Thief.”

He gestured grandly, even positioning himself directly in front of the professor, as if daring fate to intervene.

“Some say,” Toby began, “he’s a high-ranking noble. An old man. Never gets his hands dirty. He hires others to steal dungeon items for him.”

A few students murmured.

“Others say it’s actually a group of thieves. One of them got caught and thrown into prison years ago. However, he died after a few days. It was a suicide but someone might forced him to do it.”

More murmurs.

“And the most popular rumor?” Toby leaned in. “He’s just one person. A single thief with skills so refined they border on absurdity.”

He swallowed, then added quietly, “According to a very credible rumor… the Phantom Thief can go anywhere. Anywhere he’s seen before.”

Kana frown deepened, interest sharpening her expression. “Which one do you believe?”

Toby straightened immediately. “I don’t judge rumors. That would compromise my credibility.”

Suri let out an exaggerated sigh. “When did rumors ever have credibility?”

Kana thoughts raced, stitching possibilities together. A single thief with unrestricted movement. No walls. No distance. No borders. If that rumor was even half true, then this wasn’t just a criminal problem. It was a strategic nightmare.

She stared down at her desk, fingers tightening.

Of all the scenarios, the third was the worst. If the Phantom Thief truly could move that freely… then catching him wouldn’t be about strength. It would be about thinking faster than someone who had already learned how to be everywhere. Maybe even across the continent though she wasn’t sure about the condition or the limit of its skills.

The door creaked open.

Every head turned.

Even Professor Wor-en paused mid-review, fingers stilling atop the parchment as his eyes lifted. Not toward Boris exactly, but higher. Much higher.

Perched atop Boris’s head sat a small lizard, its scales catching the morning light. It clung there proudly, tail curled, chin lifted as if this entrance had been rehearsed. A thin collar circled its neck, a faint rune glimmering to mark it as officially registered.

The classroom fell into a strange, stunned quiet. Not silence, exactly. More like a collective intake of breath that forgot how to leave.

“So that’s his daughter?” Roy blurted out at last. “They kinda look alike.”

Laughter erupted. Adam snorted. Andel doubled over. Toby slapped the desk once, delighted, as if he had just witnessed history being made in the most ridiculous way possible.

Boris, unfazed, reached up and gently lifted the lizard from his head. Thorne chirped softly, clearly displeased at being removed from such a prestigious perch. Boris set her on the desk, where she stood proudly, tail wagging so hard it thumped against the wood.

The collar gleamed. Proof she was registered now. Just like Shai.

Boris cleared his throat, straightened, and clapped his hands once, sharp and ceremonial.

“Please welcome the newest member of the copper class,” he said solemnly. “Thorne.”

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Hands clapped, chairs scraped back, someone even whistled. To Kana’s surprise, Professor Wor-en joined in, clapping slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as if this was not the strangest thing he had seen this year. Or perhaps it was, and he had simply decided to accept it.

Thorne basked in it.

The lizard lifted her head higher, eyes bright, tail whipping back and forth with unrestrained joy. She let out a small, pleased chirr, soaking in the attention as if she had always known this was how mornings were meant to begin.

Boris explained,”She’s not my daughter...”

Post note:

First chap of the week
Hope you enjoy the chap 🙂