The wings of the old man wrapped his torso, acting as a gentle coat to the long robes he wore. His white beard and wrinkles gave him the appearance of a sixty years old, but Himo felt that he was way older than that. “This area is accessible only by the headmaster, the protectors, the teachers, and S-rank students.” He chuckled. “Good job getting here, kid.”

He brought his hands forward. His movements were slower than a turtle’s, but, before Himo realized it, the old man had already patted his shoulders and chuckled once more. 

Himo’s muscles tensed up in a mix of curiosity and caution. Only then did he notice that he couldn’t recognize the old man’s cultivation level. Is he higher than Longevity Realm? Nevertheless, he didn’t let his shock rule over him. “Who are you?”

“I’m just a protector—though, the staff generally refer to us as ‘guards’.” The old man stroke his beard. “We take care of the academy's internal security in serious times.”

Just as he was about to reply, Himo’s mind flashed the old man’s former words. “Wait… if S rank students can come here, why are the Winged Freaks not allowed?”

“Not allowed?” The old man burst into laughter. “As if they would care about such a measly place! They never come to the academy and are always roaming around the skies. Nothing shackles them; they do whatever they want. Even those two students of mine never visit this old man…” He gazed at the blue behind the glass ceiling.

Himo started feeling bad for him.

“Anyway!” He snapped his gaze to Himo. “Since you’re in S-class, you can choose an empty mansion as your new dwelling. Be prepared for challenges may come: students will try to steal your rank. I have high expectations of you, Shu Himo!” He laughed as he vanished back into the grass.

“What was all that about…” Himo looked dumbly at the spot where the old man vanished. It was as though he had never been there. Phylia pulled his shirt. Himo looked at her. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.” He held her hand and stepped on the cobblestone path. 

While he approached the mansions, his mind was stuck in the meeting with that old man. Wasn’t this encounter a total chichè? He arrived from nothing, knew my name without me telling him, and then vanished once again…

[Is that seriously what the user is worried about?]

Yes.

Each mansion held a lawn at its disposal, circled by a wall that connected with other mansions' walls. Some fields supported trees that peered from above the walls, while others hugged fountains and pools. No mansion was alike others; they all had a specialty.

On some gates was a sign with “unoccupied” written on. Himo and Phylia stopped by each, but they skipped many before finding one to their liking. They took the sign from the black gate and opened it, walking to a floral spectacle.

Exotic plants greeted them from the green as they traveled along the thin dirt path. They walked inside, where a spacious wooden floor embraced the light from the windows with its shallow layer of dust. Aside from the most necessary furniture, everything was empty.

It looks like I'll have to clean and to buy some stuff. Himo wandered the rooms until he found the kitchen. A shelf held a few bowls, pans, pots, several utensils, and a box filled with silverware. It was about lunch-time anyway, he thought. While Phylia watched him, he took three eggs, bacon, and ham out of his storage. After cutting bacon and ham in small cubes, he lit a small fire in the middle of the kitchen and placed a cleaned pan on top. He threw the cubes on it.

Once the meat began to spread its aroma, he cracked an egg.

Phylia stared as the orange and white mixed with the meat.

“Want to try?” Himo smiled and gave her the second egg. 

“Sure!” 

“Make sure that only the liquid inside gets in the pan.” 

Phylia stared at the egg as though it was an alien life form. 

Himo chuckled. “You can use the borders of the pan to cra—”

She morphed her palm into a sharp blade and split the egg into two perfect halves. She poured yolk and albumen into the pan. Instead of eggshells, those two halves looked more like small bowls.

Eh? Himo blinked. The contrast between his result and hers froze his mind for a few seconds. After a reboot or two, however, he smiled and gave her the third egg. While she repeated her previous magic, he added salt and spices. He mixed everything with a wooden spatula as he shook the pan above the fire.

Soon, the liquid solidified into scrambled eggs. He poured the result on two plates. The yellow surfed on each plate like an immobile stormy sea, ridden by the countless cubes of meat that fought for their lives.

They sat at a table and began eating. The soft texture of the eggs and the savory meat melted in a rainbow of flavors. “Good job, Phylia.” He stroked her head and finished his meal. She dangled her legs from her seat and laughed.

After lunch, Himo looked out of a window. He still felt watched, and he didn’t like it. He gathered air in his lungs and let out a roar. “To the teachers that are spying me: stop it!”

Those who heard him froze. Many looked out of their windows, and the three teachers looked down with reddened faces. While they wondered how they’d been found out, Himo jumped out of the window. He looked at a small clock as he walked around the mansion.

He impaled the ground with a formation rod. The teachers widened their eyes. He circled the mansion and planted a few more rods before he clapped his hands. A soft sound left the area. A dome built up from the ground and circled the mansion, blurring sights and muffling sounds.

Walking inside, Himo laughed. “Formations are the best!”

[Wasn’t it easier to close the curtains?]

Himo froze. I didn’t think about it.