They departed, boots echoing against the courtyard stone, leaving only silence behind. Shaun and Natasha turned immediately to Sabastian. Shaun's voice cracked with hurt.
"Why? Why would you say that? They were beating you, Sabastian—we saw it!"
"I… I don't want to get dragged into this mess. Please… forgive me," Sabastian's shoulders sagged. His voice broke with quiet misery.
"I'm sorry…" He turned, limping away, his apology barely audible.
Natasha's fists shook, tears of frustration burning her eyes. "Damn it! That coward! After all this—we should cut ties with him. He's not trustworthy, Shaun. He's just going to drag us down."
But Shaun's eyes stayed locked on Sabastian's retreating back. His voice came steady, resolute, even through the sting of betrayal.
"No, Natasha. Look at his eyes. He was crying. He's hiding something… something forcing him to do this. He's not untrustworthy—he's trapped."
Natasha bit her lip, torn between anger and doubt. "Shaun…"
Shaun's hands clenched. "He's a fellow Commoner. Just like me. If we give up on him now, then we're no better than the Nobles who torment him. He needs help—even if he doesn't ask for it."
Natasha sighed, her frustration slowly cooling. She crossed her arms, still fuming, but her voice softened just enough.
"…Fine. But only because it's you. If you trust him, then I'll stand by you. For your sake, Shaun."
Side by side, they watched Sabastian disappear into the distance. His figure hunched, swallowed by the shadows of the courtyard. And in that fading image, Shaun felt a vow harden in his heart. He wouldn't let Sabastian sink alone.
**********
The corridor smelled of old stone and torch smoke. The four Nobles lounged beneath a carved archway, grins wide and voices low as they watched Shaumin approach.
"Shaumin!" Albus called out as the brown-haired Noble approached, his black eyes gleaming under the pale light. "Brilliant work back there. The way you crushed that Thunderhawk brat? Magnificent."
"Didn't even give him time to breathe," Jasper snickered. "And that Ikazuchi girl—swatted away like a fly. Ha!"
"Good showing back there," Albus said, rising to clap him on the shoulder. "You saved our evening—crushing that Thunderhawk brat like you did."
Cedric stepped closer, grinning ear to ear. "Exactly what we've been saying all along—Commoners don't belong here. With someone like you on our side, we could wipe them out for good."
"Join us," Blaise added, stepping closer, charm oozing. "Together, we'll make this academy pure again. With the Skyline heir on our side, we could sweep out every last Commoner from this academy."
Blaise's hand landed on Shaumin's shoulder as if claiming him. Shaumin's face didn't change—only his gaze sharpened. Without a word he swept the hand away with a single, dismissive motion. The touch left no mark; the insult did.
"Don't touch me," he said, voice flat and cold. "You seem to mistake me for your ally. I am not." His tone was calm, but every word cut like a blade. "I don't need your petty games, nor your numbers. Shaun Thunderhawk and Sabastian Seaborne—if I wish to crush them, I will. Alone. Without your interference."
The air turned brittle. He straightened, hands clasped behind his back, his arrogance wrapping around him like a mantle.
"You want to play at being hunters? Do it without me. But remember this—don't mistake me for your pawn. I serve no one's cause but my own. Mind your business, before you overstep again."
For a beat the corridor held its breath. Then Shaumin turned and walked off, each stride composed, the hem of his vest whispering against the stone. His back to them, he left a silence heavier than any shout. The Nobles recovered their bluster too late. Pride curdled into anger. Albus's jaw clenched.
"Arrogant bastard… Thinks he's above us just because of his family name," Jasper spat to the side.
"We'll teach him of his place," Cedric snarled, fists clenching. "After we finish with that fish-boy, we'll give Skyline a lesson he won't forget."
They laughed, but it had edges now—bitter and dangerous. Shaumin's retreating silhouette dissolved into the corridor, and their plotting began anew.
**********
The corridor swallowed Shaumin's footsteps as he left the Nobles behind. Their bitter muttering faded, but his own thoughts sharpened with each step.
Shaumin's steps echoed in the corridor, steady and proud. Yet his gaze drifted to his right palm. The skin was darkened, faint burn marks tracing where Shaun's lightning had broken through his Gale Palm. He flexed his fingers—the sting flared, sharp and stubborn.
"Tch." His lips curved, not in scorn this time, but in something half-smirk, half-grimace. "If I'd blocked that without Gale Palm… my hand would've shattered."
"So… Shaun Thunderhawk. That strength of yours—it wasn't a fluke. Rufus's humiliation wasn't just luck. You're the real thing," His black eyes narrowed, not with disdain but with recognition.
"Next time, I won't take you so lightly. I'll crush you with everything I have. Let's see just how high you can climb, Commoner," Clutching his bruised palm, he let out a low chuckle.
The corridor air stirred faintly, as though his words carried weight beyond rivalry. He lowered his hand, hiding the bruise within his sleeve, and walked on—his silhouette dissolving into the torchlit shadows, leaving behind both challenge and the faintest spark of acknowledgment.
**********
The oil lamp swayed faintly, shadows dancing across the modest Thunderhawk home. A pot of stew simmered quietly in the corner, but none of them paid it any mind. At the small wooden table, Shaun sat across from his parents—his calloused hands clenched, his heart heavy.
Sarah broke the silence, her voice steady though her eyes betrayed the weight she carried. "Shaun, your father and I… we've decided. You'll move into the disciples' dormitory."
Shaun looked up sharply, disbelief flickering across his face. "The dormitory? But that's—Mother, Father, it's too costly. I can stay here, walk to the academy every day. That way I can still help you on the farm… in the house. I don't want to burden you more."
Sharek's brow furrowed, but his voice was calm. "We've already made arrangements. The two fields will be mortgaged. It will be hard, yes, but—"
Shaun shook his head fiercely. "No! I can't let you do that. If I stay home, I can study and still ease your work. It's not fair to leave you both with everything while I sit comfortably in the dorms."
For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the lamp. Then Sarah rose slowly from her chair. She walked around to Shaun, her hands resting on his shoulders before pulling him gently into her arms.
"My son… you've always thought of us first. Even now, all you want is to ease our struggles. But you don't see the bigger picture," Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, yet it pierced his heart.
Sarah pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her gaze firm yet filled with love. "If you stay here, yes, you'll help us today. But only today. The work will never end—season after season, storm after storm. You'll exhaust yourself before your dream even begins. But if you study well… if you grow strong… you'll not only change our lives, Shaun. You'll rise high enough to protect us, and countless others, in ways no farmhand ever could."
Her thumb brushed the corner of his eye, catching the tear that threatened to fall. "Don't measure your worth by chores done at home. Measure it by the man you can become."
Shaun's vision blurred, his heart torn between guilt and gratitude. He clutched her hand tightly, as if afraid to let go. "Mother… I—I just don't want to leave you and Father to suffer while I chase something for myself."
Sarah smiled softly, leaning her forehead against his. "Silly boy. Your dream is ours, too. Every sacrifice we make is not a burden—it's a seed we plant in you. And one day, we believe it will grow into something far greater than we ever dreamed."
Tears stung his eyes, and he clutched his mother's hand tightly. "I… I'll make it worth it. I swear. I'll study harder than anyone. I'll become strong. I'll make you proud, I promise."
Sarah leaned in, pressing her forehead gently against his. "You already make me proud, Shaun. But I can't wait to see the man you'll become."
The room fell quiet, the only sound the steady crackle of the hearth. In that silence, a vow was born—not just Shaun's vow to his parents, but their vow to him. A family bound not by wealth, but by love and sacrifice.
Dinner that night was quieter than usual. The simple meal of bread and stew carried the weight of unspoken sacrifice, each bite heavy with meaning. When the dishes were cleared and his parents retired early, Shaun lingered at the table, staring at the faint lamplight flickering on the wooden walls.
Finally, he stepped outside. The night air was cool, fields swaying gently under the pale moon. He clenched his fists, lifting his gaze to the endless sky. They mortgaged their land… just for me. His chest burned—not with guilt, but with fierce resolve.
"I'll make it worth it," he whispered into the night. "I'll rise… not just for myself, but for them. For Mother, for Father. No matter what it takes—I'll become the World's Strongest Magus."
The wind stirred the fields, carrying his vow into the darkness like a promise. And so, beneath the quiet stars, Shaun's determination hardened into steel.
**********