"Who are you really… Logan Smith?"
Emily Starwind's voice lingered in the room like a blade suspended mid-swing. Calm, cutting, and impossible to ignore.
Logan's gaze didn't waver. But behind his calm face, his mind spun fast.
"…What do you mean?" he asked carefully. "I'm the youngest heir of House Smith."
Emily didn't blink. "Not that."
She stepped closer, folding her arms.
"You don't have any mana flow in your body. And yet, I saw you cast magic spells—several of them. How do you explain that?"
A long silence.
Logan's fingers twitched slightly beneath the blanket.
She knows.
"…Who said I don't have mana flow?" he deflected.
"I checked myself," she said simply. "When I touched you during treatment. There was no trace of active mana flow. Your core wasn't reacting. And yet I saw you wield air and lightning with perfect control just hours ago. You can trick other healers, but not me."
Logan's mind scrambled for options. Then, with a mental breath, he made a decision.
