The infirmary was quieter than the arena.That alone made it unbearable.Blood soaked into the grooves of the stone floor, dark and sticky. Bitter antiseptic herbs burned the nose, layered over by death-aspected incense meant to dull panic rather than pain. Stone slabs filled the chamber in neat rows. Some held survivors trembling beneath thin sheets. Others held nothing at all.Azreal sat on the edge of one slab, shirtless.Dried blood traced jagged paths across his black-grey scales, collecting in the seams between them. Beneath the surface, his bones throbbed—not injured, not broken—but strained, as if they had been bent toward a shape they were never meant to take.It hurt.Good.A robed attendant passed by, slowed when her gaze lingered on the fractures beneath his skin. Whatever she saw made her stiffen. Then she turned away without a word.No healing.No warning.Black Sepulcher did not reward survival.Azreal closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose.Status.The world dimmed.[STATUS WINDOW — AZREAL]Race: Draconic (Hybrid)Age: 15Realm: MortalClass: Bone Mage (Mortal Grade)Class Progress: 12%Traits:Organic Synthesis (Restricted)
→ Controlled manipulation of organic matter
→ Current Limitation: Skeletal structures only
Primary Energies: Mana, Spiritual EnergySecondary Energies: Chaos (Sealed), Death Authority (Suppressed)Skills:Skeletal Resonance (Lv. 2)
Bone Reinforcement (Lv. 1)
⚠ Evolutionary Trigger DetectedAzreal frowned.Evolution? Already?Pain answered before thought could finish.Something forced itself outward from inside his chest.Crack.A white spike tore through the skin of his left forearm, spraying blood across the stone. Azreal's breath hitched—but he made no sound.Crack.Crack.Bone erupted along his shoulder, ribs, spine.His skeleton expanded, grinding and reshaping itself as if following a blueprint written directly into his marrow. Flesh split. Scales fractured. The pain was absolute—raw, invasive, personal. Not an attack.A correction.Azreal's vision blurred at the edges.Don't lose consciousness, he ordered.The system flared.[Skill Unlocked: Bone Creation]Type: Active / Passive HybridDescription:Allows the user to generate skeletal structures from their own body or mana.All created bone is classified as the user's biological extension.Warning:Pain suppression bypassed.Structural misuse may cause irreversible deformation or death.Jagged plating forced itself over his ribs, locking around vital organs. His forearm twisted as excess bone sharpened into a crude blade, serrated and uneven.So this is the truth, Azreal thought, teeth grinding.Not summoning bone.Becoming it.The pain did not fade.It intensified.Azreal forced his breathing slow, deliberate. He reached inward—not for mana, but for control.Enough.The bone resisted.Then—hesitated.Growth slowed.With wet, grinding sounds, the protrusions withdrew. Bone slid back beneath torn flesh, scraping as it returned to its rightful place. Skin struggled to close over it, leaving angry scars that burned like exposed nerves.Azreal slumped forward, breath ragged. Blood dripped steadily from his arm, pooling on the floor.Silence stretched.A voice broke it."You didn't scream."Azreal looked up.A silver-eyed student leaned against a distant pillar, posture relaxed, expression unreadable. His uniform was immaculate—no blood, no tears, no dust. The trial had not touched him.His gaze flicked to Azreal's wounds."Self-generated skeletal growth," the student said calmly. "Pain tolerance is exceptional. Control's still crude."Azreal wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand."You've been watching.""Only what's worth watching."Their eyes locked.Something brushed against Azreal's senses—hunger, disciplined and ancient. Not death. Not mana.Blood.The silver-eyed student smiled faintly."Be careful," he said softly. "This academy enjoys students who destroy themselves."He turned away, then added without looking back—"It despises the ones who learn restraint."His footsteps faded into the corridors.Azreal straightened slowly.Beneath his skin, his bones shifted—listening.Bone Creation, he thought.Cruel.Honest.Necessary.The academy bell tolled overhead, heavy and final.Assembly call.Azreal stood, blood still seeping through fresh scars, wings folding tight against his back."Good," he murmured."Let's see what kind of place demands this… and what it offers in return."Far above the mortal realm—Cosmic heirs felt the first tremors of genuine evolution.And deep within Azreal's soul, something ancient did not rage.It approved.