Adrian made a decision based on the conversation. He checked the Tilon he had by blowing on the back of his hand.
[5,104 Tilon]
A firework shot up brightly over the academy’s main building again. Adrian looked up with a relieved expression, and his eyes met Mikhail’s, who was watching him.
Mikhail had a blank look on his face, seemingly lost in thought.
“Mikhail, remember that favor you promised to do for me?” Adrian asked calmly.
“Huh?” Mikhail nodded briefly, still observing Adrian’s expression closely. He remembered the promise—the condition for accompanying him to the party.
“Of course, I remember,” Mikhail replied.
“I want to use that favor now,” Adrian said.
Now? Mikhail stiffened slightly, silently watching Adrian, unable to guess what favor he would ask at this moment. All he could hear was the continuous sound of fireworks and the gentle lapping of the lake.
Adrian, unfazed, adjusted the Tilon on the back of his hand and stretched out his arm in front of Mikhail.
“Take this,” Adrian said.
Mikhail’s expression darkened as he realized Adrian was adjusting the Tilon and offering it to him.
“Is that the favor? You want me to take your Tilon? That’s not a favor; it’s all benefit for me,” Mikhail muttered, his voice cold.
Adrian’s eyes gleamed brightly, even in the dim light by the lake, like those of a wild animal.
“No,” Adrian replied firmly. “My favor is for you to take this Tilon now and not ask why.”
Mikhail looked down at Adrian’s outstretched hand, puzzled.
“Your Tilon?” he murmured, still trying to grasp the situation.
Adrian remained silent, his jaw set, waiting for Mikhail’s response. Mikhail’s brow furrowed deeply, unable to understand Adrian’s insistence. Adrian shrugged and extended his wrist further, signaling Mikhail to take it.
Finally, Mikhail sighed and raised both hands in surrender.
“Fine. If this is really your favor,” he said.
“Yes, thank you,” Adrian replied with a smile.
Mikhail, still suspicious, reached out and placed his index finger on Adrian’s slightly cool hand.
“Are you sure about this?” Mikhail asked one last time.
Adrian nodded, smiling. “Yes, take it.”
Mikhail hesitated briefly before swiping his finger across Adrian’s hand. The Tilon transfer completed, and Mikhail’s hand glowed softly. He checked the number on his hand, his eyes widening in disbelief.
[10,752 Tilon]
What? I have over 10,000 Tilon now?
Mikhail’s eyes flickered with shock. Subtracting the prize money from the martial arts tournament, Adrian had sent him 5,000 Tilon.
Mikhail’s lips parted slightly, but he quickly closed them, remembering Adrian’s request not to ask why.
Adrian, noticing Mikhail’s restraint, smiled and patted his shoulder gently, appreciating his compliance with the favor.
“You deserve to have it.”
“Deserve what?” Mikhail murmured softly, feeling uneasy about the specific amount.
“Not the 5,000 Tilon. Fellen Deeps’ sword,” Adrian replied calmly.
As he spoke, a firework shot up into the sky with a loud bang. Mikhail watched in a daze as the golden light of the firework reflected in Adrian’s brown eyes, sparkling like mana particles. It was a magical sight, as if a fairy had cast a spell.
Thus, the first day of the Serichane Festival came to a close.
***
Early in the morning, Mikhail stood in front of the exhibition hall in the main corridor of the central building. His companion also came to a halt right behind him.
“Did we have to come this early in the morning?” Adrian grumbled, taking his place next to Mikhail.
Mikhail glanced at his roommate. Despite his complaints, Adrian’s eyes were bright and eager.
It all started like this:
Mikhail woke up early on the second day of the festival and prepared to leave the dormitory as soon as the main building opened. Suddenly, he felt a gaze and turned to see Adrian’s eyes watching him from the bed. Adrian asked in a clear voice, unlike someone who had just woken up, “Are you going to get the sword?” Mikhail replied, “If you’re interested, you can come along.” Adrian immediately sat up, though he complained the whole way.
“It’s easier to take it when no one is around,” Mikhail muttered, looking up.
At the end of his gaze was a magnificent white sword with a beautifully engraved wing pattern, displayed prominently at the top of the exhibition. Leaning against the wall, Adrian read aloud the instructions next to the display case, which he had read before.
“‘Gather the amount of Tilon written on the tag and place your hand on the display case to complete the Tilon contract and receive the item.'”
Adrian’s voice filled the empty corridor of the academy’s main building. It seemed everyone was still sleeping after enjoying the festival late into the night. There were no classes during the festival, so everyone was likely taking advantage of the chance to sleep in.
Mikhail studied the sword with a determined expression.
“What are you waiting for? Take it out,” Adrian urged, growing impatient.
Mikhail glanced at him before taking a deep breath to steady himself. Adrian was right; they weren’t there just to look.
Mikhail checked the Tilon he had by blowing on the back of his hand.
[10,752 Tilon]
The amount confirmed that yesterday’s events were not a dream. Mikhail then looked at Adrian, who was leaning against the wall with his usual indifferent expression, pointing at the display case with his index finger.
“Alright,” Mikhail said, stepping forward like a knight heading into battle. He slowly reached out his right hand toward the display case. As his fingers touched the glass, the numbers on his hand began to flicker rapidly. The light grew brighter as more of his hand made contact with the glass, illuminating his pale face.
The numbers on Mikhail’s hand stopped moving abruptly.
[10,752 Tilon]
Suddenly, the numbers began to decrease rapidly, too fast for the eye to follow, as the Tilon was deducted. Mikhail focused solely on Fellen Deeps’ sword beyond the glass, barely believing it would soon be his.
The number on his hand dropped to [752 Tilon].
A triumphant fanfare, like one played by an orchestra, echoed through the quiet central corridor of Basamiel Academy. As the fanfare ended, the glass of the top compartment of the display case vanished. Mikhail, feeling the glass disappear under his palm, quickly reached in and grasped the sword, lifting it from its stand.
The sensation of the sword in his hand was real. Mikhail carefully drew it out, feeling a mix of disbelief and excitement.
