Blades of flame and ribbons of darkness whipped violently through the air as Yukiko sat cross-legged on the ground, watching the chaos unfold.
She exhaled deeply.
"Sigh... do they want to kill each other?" she thought.
A towel dropped gently on her head. Startled, Yukiko looked up to see Trixie towering above her, completely silhouetted by her own shadow. She handed Yukiko a strawberry juice box.
"Thanks," Yukiko said, reaching out. The moment her fingers touched the box, ice began to crawl over it.
"You're welcome," Trixie replied, sitting beside her.
They both watched as Akira and Mikage continued sparring with reckless energy.
"Are all boys like this?" Trixie asked, raising an eyebrow.
Yukiko sipped from her juice box before replying, "I don't know... but it's better this way."
Trixie turned to her, surprised.
"Kiko... do you like chaos?"
Yukiko gave a small smile. "You don't get it. Before Akira transferred here, Mikage was... lonely."
Trixie's eyes widened. She looked between Mikage and Yukiko.
"Mikage Magata? Lonely? He's the kind of guy you'd think couldn't be alone even if he tried."
"That's what it looks like on the surface," Yukiko said calmly. "Sure, he's got 90% of the girls in school following him around, but... I don't think he enjoys their company. It's always the same fake smile. He never hangs out after class. Always goes straight to his dorm."
She paused, eyes following Mikage mid-air as fire swirled around him.
"But now? He smiles for real. He waits for Akira after school. And if beating each other bloody brings out that genuine side of him, then I'm all for it."
Trixie blinked slowly, absorbing her words.
"Wow... I didn't know. That's actually... kinda sad." She smiled softly. "I'm glad Akira joined us. But—wait a second—how'd you notice all that? Do you have feeeeelings?" she teased, grinning mischievously.
"I'm just observant," Yukiko snapped back, cutting her off.
"If you say so~" Trixie hummed, sipping her own juice.Across the arena, Mikage launched a barrage of fireballs. Akira, already airborne, braced himself and began absorbing the impact with hardened darkness plating.
But Mikage wasn't done. The barrage transformed into a wide-spread inferno, engulfing Akira from both flanks.
Gritting his teeth, Akira clenched his fists.
"Damn, too much heat... can't focus."
He slammed both hands to the ground, forming a dome of solid shadow around himself.
Mikage smirked. "You think that'll protect you for long?!"
Akira's voice echoed from within. "Guess we'll find out soon enough."
Then—crack!
Spikes burst from the shadow dome in every direction. Mikage barely dodged, flipping backward, but three spikes grazed his leg—leaving clean punctures behind.
"Trixie, I think we should call it—" Yukiko started, standing.
"I'm fine!" Mikage shouted, grinning despite the blood. "It's shallow. Doesn't even hurt."
The dome retracted, revealing Akira encased in his parasitic armor again—black, sinewy plates stretching across his chest, arms, and spine.
Mikage grinned and lunged, but Akira was ready. His arm extended into a dark tendril, slamming Mikage into the floor and locking him down.
"Tch—can't move...!"
Flames erupted from Mikage, melting through the restraints. He charged again, fists blazing, closing the distance.
"You guys are taking it too far!" Yukiko yelled as she and Trixie dashed forward.
Just as Akira and Mikage's fists were about to collide—
BOOM!
A massive stone wall erupted between them, halting both blows.
A voice echoed from the overhead speaker.
"I like my kids with functioning limbs. That's enough—get to the infirmary."
It was Mr. Oliver.
"Sorry, sir!" Mikage laughed, still bleeding but smiling wide.
From his office, Mr. Oliver watched the monitor.
"It's like he wants to be killed," he muttered, shaking his head.
On the screen, a news broadcast played:
> "In today's top story, three fishermen discovered an ancient artifact dating back over 10,000 years. Experts are baffled by the runic markings—believed to belong to a long-lost civilization..."
A picture of the iron coffin appeared.
Mr. Oliver's brows furrowed.
"Where have I seen that coffin before...?"
Far away in the Crimson World, Xavier sat in a candlelit chamber, eyes wide as he watched the same broadcast.
"So... you've revealed yourself, Master. This must be fate."
In another chamber, Charles watched, lips curled into a grin.
"Finally. It's as if the world itself is aiding me."
Students passing by the infirmary flinched as loud screams echoed from behind the door.
"What's going on in there?" some of them muttered, exchanging nervous glances.
As the screams intensified, the onlookers grew more unsettled and hurried away.
Inside the infirmary, two nurses struggled to hold Mikage down while a third attempted to heal his leg.
"It freaking hurts like hell!" Mikage screamed, sweat dripping from his forehead.
"I thought you said it didn't hurt?" Yukiko asked dryly, raising a brow.
Trixie chuckled from nearby. "Looks like the adrenaline's worn off."
Yukiko sighed, rolled up a towel, and walked over to him. "Here—bite on this. Your screams are echoing down the hall."
She placed the towel in his mouth. Across the room, Akira sat quietly while a nurse tended to his burns. He winced as she gently pressed a salve against his arm.
"Does it hurt badly?" the nurse asked with a concerned look.
"I'm fine," Akira replied, offering a soft smile despite the pain.
Meanwhile, Mr. Oliver sat slouched in his office chair, glasses perched on his nose as he flipped through paperwork. Suddenly, his eyes widened. He tossed the documents aside and vanished in a flash.
Moments later, Simon entered the room with two cold beers in hand.
"Oliver, I know you've been stressed—so have I. Let's unwind with a drink," he said as he stepped in slowly. But the office was empty.
"I sensed his mana here just moments ago..." Simon thought, frowning.
High above the London skyline, Oliver hovered mid-air. His coat billowed in the wind as he scanned the bustling city below.
"I just felt multiple mana signatures… but where are they?" he wondered aloud.
"Maybe it was just a fluke." He sighed. "Still, I'll hang around a bit longer. I won't let another Night Walker incident happen—not with these reports of vampire activity piling up."
He exhaled deeply. "God, I'm so tired…"
In a flash, Mr. Oliver was back in his office.
"You finally return," Mr. Simon said.
Oliver traced the voice with his eyes, spotting Simon lounging in his chair—shirt unbuttoned, legs propped up on the desk, sipping beer while flipping through scattered papers.
"Sigh... Did you bring one for me too?" Oliver asked.
Simon grinned and reached behind the table, pulling out a can. He shook it playfully, a cheesy smile on his face.
Oliver took off his coat, unbuttoned his shirt, and sat on the desk. The beer cracked open with a loud fizz that echoed through the room.
"Did you bring more?" Oliver asked.
"Oh, you stressed child," Simon chuckled. "We can't have our dear principal walking around drunk."
Oliver lifted the can to his face, squinting at the label. "Sigh... It's not even the strong kind. And I'm older than you."
Simon leaned back. "Looks like they're not giving you a break."
"Mhm?" Oliver raised a brow as his eyes caught the papers in Simon's hand.
"Oh, that. I've been ignoring it, but it's getting out of control. I don't want to drag the students into this... but soon, I'll have to set a date." He swirled the beer in his hand, eyes drifting off in thought.
"Man... Being a principal sounds stressful," Simon sighed, finishing his drink and staring into the empty bottle.
"Yeah," Oliver muttered with a shaky laugh.
"I should've brought more beer," Simon mumbled to himself.
The door handle jiggled. Both men stiffened, their eyes locking on the slowly opening door.
"I'll get to that soon. Thanks for bringing it to my attention," Oliver said loudly as a woman's head peeked in.
"Mrs. Vanessa, what brings you here?" Simon asked, waving with a grin.
"O-Oh, I didn't know you were here, Mr. Simon. I wanted to speak with Mr. Oliver, but I'll come back later," she stammered.
"It's fine. Let's talk now," Oliver said, rising from the table and walking toward her, his tall figure looming. His eyes scanned her—black puffy sweater, long skirt covering her legs completely, thick glasses. She gave off a nerdy gothic vibe.
She adjusted her glasses and lowered her head to avoid eye contact. "I-I-Is something on me?"
"Not at all," Oliver replied.
"I'll come back later then..." She hesitated at the door, sniffed the air, and narrowed her eyes. "Is that beer I smell?"
The door clicked shut behind her.
"Hehehe... She's got something for you," Simon teased.
"Shut up," Oliver muttered.
"When will you start dating? She's your type, if I'm not wrong. Even the other teachers want to ask you out—I'm so jealous."
"Maybe when I retire," Oliver sighed. "And if you want a girl so bad, stop depriving yourself of sleep with your so-called late-night experiments."
Simon puffed out his chest, clenched his fists, and deepened his voice. "Science never sleeps."
"Whatever makes you happy."
Meanwhile, back at the dorm...
Mikage lay on his bed, the scent of antiseptic clinging to the air. Bandages wrapped around his leg, and he covered his face with one hand. Akira stood nearby, silent, the weight of guilt growing heavier on him.
"Hey, Akira," Mikage's voice broke the tension. "It's alright. Things like this happen. It barely hurts—and in an hour, I'll be completely healed. I'm just thinking."
"Thank goodness," Akira said softly as he turned and entered the bathroom.
One thought kept ringing in Mikage's mind:
"Are you a dragon?"
He sighed.
"What the hell did that man sleep with?"