"I do not believe I am acquainted with that name. Are you certain it ever existed?" Garfield asked, his tone questioning the validity of the name provided.
"I do not fault you, for even I am unfamiliar with that name. We have always associated those who bear the special bloodline with a singular name, and this is certainly not it." She paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing, "It could very well be a name that never existed at all, but if it is indeed real, then it forces me to question why such a name has been deliberately omitted from every record of literature concerning the founding of this nation."
Tristan began to ponder why Bertal was so intent on researching Zafrit. Was he merely consumed by curiosity about his own bloodline, desiring to unearth more of its mysteries? Or was it instead part of his grand design, a calculated scheme in his overarching plan to overthrow the gods of this world? Whatever his reasoning, it made little sense to Tristan. What weighed more heavily on his mind was the deliberate omission of the bloodline's originator. There had to be a reason why both the name and all knowledge tied to it were erased from existence. Yet, even if such a reason existed, neither Tristan nor the others could fathom it.
He recalled then his conversation with the old woman from the Lower District—her words etched into his memory. She had spoken of the so-called gods of this land, of how they descended and colonized the people. That knowledge was rarely taught, and rarer still preserved in books.
It seems these gods have far too much to conceal.
"Another matter—the beast that attacked you. Can you describe it?" the Headmaster inquired.
Tristan proceeded to describe the creature: its grotesque visage, its emaciated limbs, and finally, the dreadful ability it possessed.
"The creature's hide is impervious to assaults it can perceive, yet its blind spots prove its weakness... That was the conclusion I reached as the shadowy figure battled it."
"Very well then. I shall go myself and eradicate this abomination lurking beneath the school. I will exterminate it and ensure the safety of my students," she declared.
The two stared at her in disbelief.
"With all due respect, Headmaster, are you not a little too old to be fighting beasts of such caliber?" Tristan asked in a half-comedic tone.
The Headmaster chuckled softly.
"Though I now bear the title of Headmaster, I was once a warrior—one who commanded as a Pillar Leader. I assure you, I will fare well enough on my own." She rose to her feet, affixing a brooch upon her chest that bore the constellation of Aries.
She tapped the brooch twice, and from it emerged her Star Armor. It was strikingly similar to Amelia's—no, it could be said Amelia's design was inspired by hers. A violet muscle-tight chestplate clung to her frame, complemented by a cuirass of matching hue, while black boots, crafted for traversing harsh terrain, anchored her stance. A black helm with a visor obscured her eyes, and to complete her ensemble, a long black trench coat swept behind her. She flexed her gloved hands to ensure their perfect fit, then summoned her spear into her grasp.
The two boys exchanged a smile, their doubts dissolving at the sight of one of the strongest revealing her true strength.
"So, when shall this extermination commence?" Tristan asked.
The Headmaster spoke.
"Immediately. The teachers shall begin evacuating the students at any moment. I strongly advise the both of you to leave."
Tristan remained silent, his expression betraying little. Garfield, however, recalled something pressing.
"Did you happen to speak with Jason Wilson?" Garfield asked.
"Indeed I did. Yet when I questioned him about the underground passage, he claimed ignorance of it."
Tristan did not believe the young man's feeble excuse, though he knew well that without proof, he could not request the Headmaster to press further against a student. Thus, he let the matter rest.
"Very well, then. You two must evacuate the school. I shall go and destroy the beast."
The two rose from their seats, departing for the academy's main entrance. As they walked, Tristan recalled something and veered toward the dormitories, instructing Garfield to continue with the evacuation.
While the students were ushered to safety, the Headmaster descended into the underground passage, soon arriving at the forsaken sanctuary. As she wove her way through the forest, her entire being was focused upon the vile creature that had dared harm one of her students. She pressed forward, ducking beneath branches, her senses sharp, her vigilance unwavering. For a while she searched in vain—until a grisly sound reached her ears: the tearing of flesh, the sickening gnash of teeth devouring meat.
Drawing nearer, she beheld the rat-like beast hunched grotesquely over a carcass, tearing into it and feasting upon its organs. She advanced still further, her power, though restrained to avoid detection, leaking faintly from her presence. After so many years away from battle, one could hardly fault her for such a slip.
The creature stilled, turning its head slightly. Its blood-smeared maw dripped with crimson, a fragment of organ dangling between its teeth.
Sylvia's eyes fixed upon its arm—the wound still fresh, bone fragments jutting grotesquely from the gash.
"So, you are the wretch that dared to harm my student," she uttered coldly, twirling her spear from hand to hand before aiming it squarely at the beast.
The creature gave no reply, merely snapping up the dangling flesh. Then, with sudden speed, it lunged toward her, its lone arm outstretched, claws gleaming with malice.
The Headmaster met its charge with an almost detached expression. She thrust her spear forward, not at its exposed heart but at its remaining arm. A brilliant beam of light erupted from the weapon, engulfing the limb entirely. The beast crashed into the earth, dust billowing from the impact. It turned in horror to where its arm had been, only to realize it no longer existed—it had been obliterated beyond all trace.
The monster loosed a shriek so piercing it would have crippled lesser warriors. But Sylvia did not flinch; she only regarded it with disdain as it bared its bloodstained fangs.
Step by step, she advanced, her words carrying a chilling finality. "This is but the beginning of your torment."
The beast trembled. Perhaps for the first time in its existence, it felt fear. For all its life, it had been the predator. Yet now, as the greater beast closed in, it knew—irrefutably—it was prey.
It tried to flee, lurching upright on its spindly legs. But before it could escape, a massive sword of darkness, shrouded in shadow, erupted through its chest, piercing its heart. Sylvia froze, eyes narrowing, as the shadowy figure Tristan had spoken of manifested before her, finishing the beast with a brutal twist of his blade. As the monster collapsed, the figure wrenched his weapon free, flicking the black blood onto the earth.
The Headmaster stepped forward, intent on offering words of gratitude, though she remained wary of the unknown entity standing before her.
But the figure swiftly dissolved into darkness, sinking into the earth as nothing more than a pool of shadow, vanishing from her sight.
Sylvia stood there in silence, bewildered and unsettled, uncertain of what she had just witnessed—or of who, or what, that being truly was.