Encounter with the Winter Twins

After leaving the Winter Princesses' testing room and passing a few buildings, Abel entered the garden and scanned his surroundings. Spotting a bench, he sat down and began admiring the academy scenery—or at least, that's what it looked like.

But appreciating nature's beauty wasn't his real goal. Objectively speaking, this guy named Abel wasn't the type to gaze at rocks and feel poetic awe. Could I smash that boulder with my fist? Now that kind of thought suited him better. His legs weren't sore either; for him, muscle pain only kicked in after swinging a sword a hundred thousand times or running a full day straight to build stamina.

So why was he killing time on this bench?

Come on out already. How long are you gonna tail me?

Someone mysterious had been following him since earlier. He couldn't spot them no matter how hard he looked, but he could sense their presence faintly. At first, he thought it might be a professor, but that didn't make sense—if it was, they'd just call out and handle their business. No need for sneaky stalking.

He'd considered friends like Seria or Kalligo, but they would've approached directly too. No reason to shadow him.

He had no clue. Absolutely zero idea who it was or why.

One thing was clear: whoever it was, they were a pro at masking their presence.

Thanks to the power measurement test, he'd used Physical Enhancement, and the effects lingered a bit even after it ended. This ability didn't just boost strength or speed—it amplified his senses too. His field of vision doubled, his smell sharpened, and his hearing picked up the tiniest sounds.

Abel leveraged this to push his body to its limits. Yet even with it active, he had zero info on his pursuer. Without it, he probably wouldn't have noticed he was being tailed at all. If they'd attacked from behind, he'd have realized only at the last possible second.

Are they already trying to intimidate me? Did rumors of my power measurement results spread that fast?

It wasn't impossible, but unlikely. Less than an hour had passed since the test. Professors couldn't gossip about students' scores—that was an ironclad academy rule, not just etiquette. Results wouldn't be posted until tomorrow.

So logically, this shouldn't be happening.

After lingering on the bench a bit longer, Abel made up his mind. Circling around like this wasn't his style. He'd read enough ability-user stories to know a direct confrontation was often most effective.

"That's enough. Come out and have a seat. You look like you have business with me. Why waste time dragging this out? Let's just talk it over."

Talking to empty air made him look like a lunatic muttering to himself. What if no one showed? How embarrassing. Should he threaten them out? But how do you threaten someone you can't even see?

"Gotcha, Irshu."

"Gotcha, Tarshu."

This time, his gamble paid off. He'd tossed the line half-jokingly, and hooked a monster fish.

What the— they really were tailing me... Wait, two of them? The presence felt like just one.

Staring at the pair who appeared before him, Abel freaked out inwardly. No one had ever fooled his enhanced senses before—not even his father, sister Lumine, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or the family knights. This was a first.

"Tarshu was staying quiet."

"Irshu was staying quiet too."

"Then how'd we get caught, Irshu?"

"Then how'd we get caught, Tarshu?"

Snow-white hair. Silver eyes. And faces identical, like mirror images. Their speech patterns were weird too, leaving Abel struggling to keep his head straight amid the dizziness.

"Who exactly are you two...?"

"Then how'd you figure us out?"

"...?"

Even their voices matched, echoing like a canyon. It was disorienting, like he'd had a few drinks. Or been caught in a blinding blizzard.

Crinkle.

Two people. One set of footsteps. Identical strides and gait— was that even possible?

It hit him anew just how elite the Continental Academy was. He'd regret skipping it forever if he had.

Abel scooted over on the bench as the pair approached.

"I'm freshman Abel Rothschild, from the Ascal Kingdom."

As the snow-haired girls sat, he introduced himself first. He knew nothing—no names, no year, not even if they were professors. They looked like girls younger than him, but Abel wasn't naive enough to trust appearances.

Don't believe everything you see. A core rule from ability-user tales.

"Irshu. Freshman."

"Tarshu. Freshman."

Good—they weren't hiding their identities.

"Ah, so you're Miss Irshu and Miss Tarshu."

"Not Irshu, Tarshu."

"Not Tarshu, Irshu."

"...Pardon?"

"Not Tarshu, Irshu."

"Not Irshu, Tarshu."

Abel blinked, then got it. When they first named themselves, they'd actually been introducing the twin next to them.

"So you're Tarshu—not Irshu—on that side, and Irshu—not Tarshu—on this side. Right?"

Nods.

Staring into their four silver eyes, Abel gripped his sanity tight.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Irshu, Miss Tarshu. Fellow freshmen, so we're classmates. Mind if I ask one thing as a classmate?"

"Tarshu's listening."

"Irshu's listening too."

"Thanks. So, why were you tailing me? Looks like you started right after I left the testing room."

He'd worried at first it was malicious—maybe one of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠those academy assaults. Wrong on both counts. His stalkers were twin sisters.

"Curious."

"Wanted to know."

"Huh?"

"Abel. Curious."

"Curious. Abel."

This echo effect was maddening.

"Sorry, but could one of you talk at a time?"

"But Irshu wants to talk."

"And Tarshu wants to talk too."

"How about taking turns, one at a time?"

A casual suggestion. But to the twins, it was revolutionary. They gasped "Ooh" in unison, whispered to decide order, then the one on the left spoke first, red lips parting.

"Abel, are you a genius?"

"Not at all. Back to square one—why tail me?"

"'Cause you're strong."

"Strong enough to tail?"

"Strength's a gift. Gifts are curious. Gotta know. Confirm it."

Confirm? Abel tilted his head, and Irshu—no, Tarshu—picked up.

"Winter's harsh. Harsh places need the strong."

"Strong are rare. Everyone wants the strong."

"Blood doesn't matter. Accept anyone strong."

Winter.Strength.

Abel latched onto that. Snow-white hair, silver eyes, twins. It clicked.

"From the Winter Duchy, right?"

"Irshu. Princess."

"Tarshu. Princess."

"But freshmen."

"Same freshmen."

The king's words before he left for the academy echoed: Tons of top ability users enrolling. He'd called Abel, entering alongside them, the kingdom's future face.

Empire's third prince Kalligo Evdors Rune, Phoenix family's Flam, Sparrow's Portus—that wasn't the end. They were elite, but plenty matched them.

This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠freshman lineup was insane. No wonder the king tasked him with protecting Seria. Among these prodigies, her modest talent was an embarrassment for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the kingdom.

Empire prince, top fire and water heirs... now Winter Duchy twin princesses? This can't be right. Lineup's too stacked.

Scarier still? This wasn't the end. More big shots would show. And with them, chaos was inevitable.

What the—? Glancing at the twin princesses beside him, Abel asked in disbelief.

"Wasn't your measurement done?"

"Wouldn't work if after."

"Would've missed you."

"Go now. The professor's probably desperate for you two."

Students skipping power measurements—especially two of them. How chaotic. (He'd conveniently forgotten his own disruption earlier.)

"See you later, Abel Rothschild."

"Meet again. Abel Rothschild."

Even waving and scampering off, they matched perfectly. Twins, sure—but this level of sync?

Continental Academy. I figured, but it's no joke.

Freaks everywhere. Ability-user heaven.

To not get left behind, he'd train harder.

Standing from the bench, Abel cracked his knuckles. Early rest? Plans changed. Special training ahead—over and over.