The mysterious watcher lingered for a moment after Kael left the training hall, his presence blending into the dim light as if he were part of the walls themselves. His gaze was fixed on the spot where Kael had stood, a silent analysis of the boy's every move, his every word. He processed the humiliation of Nad, the strange power Kael had displayed, and the even stranger whisper he had used to break her will. The information was filed away, a new piece added to a growing puzzle. Then, without a sound, he slipped away, his footsteps light against the polished floor, leaving no trace of his passing.
Outside, the air greeted him with a subtle chill. The sun hung low and pale, casting long shadows across the stone path and painting the sky in muted shades of orange and purple. A faint breeze, carrying the crisp scent of autumn leaves, rustled the nearby trees. The academy grounds, usually bustling with students, were quiet and still in the twilight.
He rounded a corner and stopped.
Someone was waiting for him.
"Why are you here again, Elric Vales?" The woman's voice carried no warmth, only quiet steel. Selene Whitmore stood with her arms folded, her dark eyes sharp and unwelcoming. Her body was tense, a coiled spring ready to snap. The air around her shimmered with a barely contained power, a clear warning.
Elric's expression was colder still. He didn't flinch under her gaze, his own demeanor a perfect reflection of her hostility. He was a predator, and he was staring down another.
He scoffed. "I was only here because there's something I wanted to find out." His words were casual, dismissive, as if her presence was a minor inconvenience.
Selene tilted her head slightly, suspicion flickering in her stare. "And what is that?"
"Whether he is a child from the Black Land."
Her eyes narrowed. The air between them shifted, heavy and dangerous. The temperature seemed to drop, a tangible cold spreading from her. Her killing intent, a raw and primal force, swelled like a rising tide, pressing against Elric in an invisible wave. The nearby branches of a cherry blossom tree, already shivering in the breeze, trembled violently as if in protest.
Elric's eyes narrowed in return, a faint, cruel smile touching his lips. "Hmm... your killing intent is becoming—" He stopped, the smirk widening. "But I'm not the type to back down."
His own killing intent surged forth, a dark and icy storm clashing against hers like two invisible titans colliding in the air. The pressure was so thick it was almost tangible, like the atmosphere itself was straining to hold together. The ground beneath them seemed to hum with the immense, unseen forces at play.
Selene's lips pressed into a thin line. She was powerful, but she was smart. She knew this was not a fight she wanted to have in the middle of a public space. The risk of exposing her own nature, and the danger it would bring to Kael, was too great. She eventually stepped back, the invisible storm around her receding, but the threat remained in her eyes. Without another word, she turned and walked away, her silhouette fading into the moonlit street.
Elric watched her go, a flicker of something close to respect in his gaze. "She must have understood my meaning," he murmured to himself, the cold amusement returning to his voice. "I never thought Selene Whitmore would get involved in this. If it's like this... things won't be as easy as I thought." The moonlight gleamed on his pale face, revealing a sharp, calculating glint in his eyes, before he too vanished into the night, leaving only a lingering chill in the air.
Kael arrived at the dormitory not long after, pushing the door open with a tired arm. The faint scent of old books and polished wood greeted him, a familiar and comforting smell. He barely made it three steps inside before crashing into the couch with a sigh, his body sinking into the soft cushions.
"Hah..." His eyes drifted toward the ceiling. The day's events replayed in his mind—the confrontation with Nad, the strange whisper, and the cold, professional demeanor he had to adopt. He had to assume that his words had been taken seriously.
It didn't matter if Nad told Hatom about what happened earlier. Nad's fury would be a problem, but it was a manageable one. But if Hatom himself decided to make a move... Kael knew his life would be in real danger. Hatom was a powerful figure, with connections and resources far beyond Kael's own.
I have to be ready. The weight of that thought settled on him. Turn that lie into the truth before it backfires. He needed to become a real threat to someone like Hatom, a force to be reckoned with. He needed power, and he needed it fast.
"Oh, right." He sat up slightly, a sudden thought cutting through his exhaustion. "Hey, Hay what was the last ability I got again?" He was so focused on his training and the escalating conflicts that he had forgotten to check.
A soft voice, almost a whisper in his mind, replied: [You have received a new gift.]
"Oh? Really? I should check it." Kael's interest was piqued. A new ability could be the key to his survival.
He summoned his status Window, a familiar action that had become a routine part of his new life. The moment he did, a sharp pain seared through his left arm, a sudden, burning ache that made him gasp. "Tch—!" He clutched it, teeth gritted, until the pain slowly subsided, leaving behind a faint, tingling warmth.
"Huhuhu... ah, thank God it's gone." The pain was a reminder that this was not a game; his skills and powers were real, and they came with a cost.
A faint notification hovered before his eyes: [You may freely use the magic power stored inside the Codex as an extradimensional space. It saves magic power every 24 hours.]
"...So, how do I use it?" he muttered, a mix of curiosity and relief washing over him. The message was concise, but the potential was immense.
The Codex appeared as a tattoo on his upper left arm, an intricate design of swirling runes and geometric lines that pulsed with a faint, blue light. It was a beautiful, but dangerous, piece of artistry. His natural magic reserves were still low, a shallow pool of power he could draw from, but if he kept leveling up, they'd grow and the Codex could store much more than he could hold on his own. It was a power bank for a superhero, a crucial piece of equipment for a future of conflict.
"I can freely use it?" He tested the limits of the new ability.
He closed his eyes and focused. That was all it took.
A soft hum resonated in the air as blue light erupted from the tattoo, weaving down his arm like streams of liquid energy. It coursed through his veins, pooling at his fingertips before shooting outward. The magic coalesced, shifting rapidly first into the shape of a small box, then a perfect triangle, then a gleaming blade. The blade shimmered with an ethereal light, its edges sharp and deadly.
The edge shimmered faintly before dissolving back into motes of blue light. The process was effortless, a seamless extension of his will.
"With this... I can make my own weapons," Kael murmured, a genuine smile finally gracing his lips. He could manifest whatever he needed, whenever he needed it. "No more spending money on replacements." It was a simple thought, but it spoke to the core of his newfound practicality.
He leaned back in the couch, the faint afterglow of the magic still warm against his skin, a comforting presence. "Oh, hey, are there any updates on my Tube channel tonight?" He asked, the question a habit born from his past life.
[No, Master Kael.] The system's voice was a comforting constant.
"Oh. Okay." He sat for a while, letting the quiet settle over him, the silence of the dorm a stark contrast to the chaos of the training hall. He had a new power, a new purpose, and a new set of problems. He stood up, his body feeling renewed. "I should go get a drink."
The streets were calm as he made his way to a small café tucked between two brick buildings. Warm light spilled from its windows, and the smell of roasted coffee beans drifted into the street, a welcome fragrance in the cool night air. The bell above the door chimed softly as he pushed it open, a sound that felt more like a welcome than a warning.
He found a quiet corner table, the warm, comforting ambiance of the café a welcome change from the cold, sterile environment of the academy. He thought about his life, his past, and his new reality.
Sometimes, he thought about why he started his channel in the first place. It wasn't about fame, not really.