"Sigh… only "they" know what kind of being that man is."

The Clown sighed softly and jumped down from the tree, landing without a sound.

"I should get going," he muttered to himself.

With a lazy motion, he snapped his fingers, and the space in front of him began to twist and bend like ripples on water.

But just as the space was about to tear open, he stopped.

His hand froze mid-air, and his sharp eyes turned behind him.

Something was wrong.

He could feel it, an overwhelming presence coming from far away, heavy and sharp like a blade pressing against his skin.

A small smile formed on his lips.

"So you finally decided to show up, huh?" he whispered.

Moments later, a powerful gust of wind swept through the forest as a figure shot across the sky, flying straight toward him.

The figure stopped about a hundred feet away, floating in the air.

The figure was that of an old man.

His long gray beard hung down to his chest as he slowly stroked it, giving the Clown a deep, meaningful look.

His back was slightly bent, yet his presence carried an undeniable weight.

The Clown's grin widened.

"The eternal mage of the Empire, Rolack Zaran," he said, his tone filled with mock respect.

Eternal mages were known to be equal to grandmasters among warriors, existences that stood at the peak of magic itself.

Rolack was one of only two such beings serving the Empire.

Rolack's calm eyes never left the Clown.

His voice was steady and quiet, yet it carried a power that made the air tremble.

"Who are you?" he asked.

This man was giving off an awful aura.

The air around him felt heavy and strange, and Rolack could tell at a glance that he was no ordinary person.

Someone this powerful watching over the students could only mean trouble.

If the man refused to cooperate, Rolack was ready for a fight.

He narrowed his eyes and asked again, his tone firmer this time, "I asked, who are you?"

The Clown tilted his head slightly, as if thinking about something.

After a short pause, he smiled and said,

"I'm the Clown. It's nice meeting you, Dean Rolack Zaran."

He bent at the waist in a polite bow, his grin never fading.

Rolack's expression didn't change.

His calm eyes stayed fixed on the Clown as he asked, "For what reason were you spying on the children?"

The Clown didn't hesitate or try to hide anything.

"Well," he said simply, raising a hand and pointing in the distance, "I was watching that child."

His finger aimed toward where Vivian stood, about a kilometer away.

The Dean's gaze followed the Clown's finger, and when he saw who it was pointing at, his eyes narrowed slightly.

'Hmm… just as I expected, something really is going on,' he thought, recalling a conversation from a few months ago.

Back then, his old friend Vikel had come to him, worry written all over his face.

Vikel had spoken about his grandson, saying that the boy was getting involved in something dangerous, something he refused to talk about with anyone.

He had asked Rolack to keep an eye on him, just in case.

At the time, Rolack had sensed the same uneasy feeling but hadn't wanted to believe it.

Yet today, while observing the students, he had felt a dark, malicious presence surrounding that child.

That was why he came rushing here without a second thought.

Taking a slow breath, he looked back at the Clown, his tone calm but sharp.

"For what reason were you watching that child?" he asked again.

The Clown flashed a wicked grin beneath his mask.

"Do I really need to explain?" he said in a teasing tone, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Hearing that, the Dean's frown deepened.

'So, he won't talk unless I make him,' Rolack thought.

After a short silence, his voice turned cold.

"Very well," he said. "I'll make sure you explain."

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Instantly, the space beside him rippled, and a long staff flew into his grasp.

The Clown's eyes flickered with interest.

"Hmm… is that Vitra?" he asked, recognizing the legendary staff.

But Rolack didn't bother replying.

With a smooth motion, he pointed his staff forward.

A ball of fire formed at its tip, quickly growing until it was the size of a small boulder.

Then, with a sharp sound, it shot toward the Clown.

The Clown chuckled.

"Oh, come on, we could've talked this out," he said playfully.

But his actions didn't match his words.

With a heavy stomp, he shattered the ground beneath his feet.

Boom!

His body shot forward like a cannonball, and black lightning crackled wildly around him, gathering at his fists as he charged straight toward the blazing fireball.

Boom!

His fist collided with the fireball, scattering flames across the sky like sparks from an explosion.

The shockwave rippled through the air as the Clown landed lightly on the ground, a faint trail of black lightning still dancing around him.

The Dean's expression stayed calm, but inside, he was slightly shaken.

'How is that possible?' he thought.

'He's channeling elemental energy through his body… without any weapon?'

That was something only a handful of people in history could ever do.

But he quickly pushed the thought aside, this wasn't the time for questions.

His eyes hardened as he floated higher into the air.

'This Clown… whoever he is, he's dangerous. I'll have to give it my all to subdue him.'

"Ice Age," the Dean muttered.

At once, a wave of frost swept across the ground.

The air grew heavy and white mist spread outward as thick ice began to crawl over the land.

Trees froze solid, the earth cracked, and the temperature dropped in an instant.

It was the same spell Charlotte once used, but the Dean's version was far stronger, at least ten times more powerful.

The very air around the Clown turned brittle with cold, freezing everything within reach.

The Clown didn't seem flustered at all as the frost spread around him, coating the ground and air in white.

Instead, he looked almost amused.

"Interesting," he muttered, raising both hands slowly toward the sky.

"Intuition: Ice Energy."

The moment he spoke those words, the air around him trembled.

The spreading frost suddenly stopped, then began to condense, pulling back and swirling together like a living thing.

Within seconds, all the gathered ice compressed into a single, glowing sphere that floated before him.

The ball was small, no bigger than his fist, but the energy inside it pulsed dangerously.

The Clown grinned, grabbed the orb, and with a swift motion, hurled it toward the Dean.

The ball turned into a streak of blue-white light, cutting through the air like a beam of pure destruction.

The Dean's eyes widened slightly.

He raised his staff in a hurry and muttered,

"Wind Shield!"

The air around him twisted violently, spiraling forward until it formed an invisible barrier in front of him.

Boom!

The ice beam smashed into the shield, shaking the air with a deafening crash.

For a moment, the shield held, but then it cracked like glass before shattering completely.

The icy beam also scattered into countless shards, freezing the air as both energies destroyed each other in midair.

The ground below trembled from the impact, and the forest around them groaned under the pressure of their clash.

That air shield had been no simple spell, it had taken a fair amount of effort to hold together even for a few seconds.

Rolack took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"Still… making him use his Intuition this early was worth it," he muttered.

Without wasting a moment, his body blurred.

His movements became so fast they were hard to follow, each shift leaving behind a faint trail of afterimages.

As he flew backward, he began chanting softly, gathering elemental energy for his next spell.

But the Clown wasn't planning to give him that chance.

With a burst of black lightning, he dashed forward.

Each of his steps struck the air with explosive force.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The air itself compressed and rippled, the very space trembling with each impact.

In seconds, he had closed the distance, only a hundred feet separating them.

But by then, the Dean had already finished his preparation.

His voice echoed through the frozen forest, calm and steady.

"Dual Elements, Light and Darkness."

The moment he spoke, two opposite forces surged around him.

Blinding light gathered on one side while deep shadows formed on the other.

Normally, such elements should have destroyed each other instantly, but here they twisted together in perfect balance.

Though the light's presence was stronger, the darkness did not fade—it danced along with it, forming a strange harmony that defied logic.

The swirling energies spun faster and faster, merging into a massive vortex above his head.

"Yin Vortex," the Dean intoned.

The vortex spun violently, tearing through the air as it rushed toward the Clown at lightning speed.

The ground beneath it cracked from the force, trees were uprooted, and the very air screamed as the swirling light and darkness twisted together in destruction.

But the Clown didn't move.

He didn't even blink.

Instead, he calmly raised his right hand, his grin hidden beneath the mask.

"Intuition: Dark Space!" he shouted.

The moment the words left his mouth, the world around him dimmed, as if the light itself was being drained away.

The air trembled violently, space twisting and cracking like shattered glass.

In front of the approaching Yin Vortex, reality split apart, a pitch-black rift opened wide, swirling with dark energy that seemed to have no end.

A deep, low hum echoed through the air as the vortex collided with it.

For a brief instant, both powers struggled against each other, light and darkness clashing against the void.

Then, with a deafening whoosh, the black rift expanded and swallowed the entire spell whole.

The brilliant light vanished.

The roaring winds disappeared.

All that remained was silence and the faint shimmer of distorted space where the vortex once existed.

Seeing this, the Dean's eyes widened in shock.

His voice trembled as he muttered, "W-What!?"

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