The cavern shook with every step of the beast. Its claws ripped trenches into the rock as it swung at Jorin, lightning crackling against stone. Sparks rained down like white-hot stars.
And then Kael moved.
He didn't think. He didn't plan. His body surged forward before his mind could catch up. The dagger burned in his hand, dragging him into motion.
The world blurred. One heartbeat he was in the dust, the next he was a shadow streaking across the cavern floor. He slid up alongside the beast, dagger raised. His arm shot out, driving the blade deep into the creature's side.
The dagger didn't just cut. It tore through hide and stone like it had always belonged there.
The beast froze, its massive head rearing back. A noise erupted from its throat—so loud, so raw it felt like the cavern itself was screaming. Jorin staggered mid-step, lightning faltering, his eyes widening at the sound.
Outside, the other students froze too. The ground beneath them trembled as the echo of the roar ripped through the earth. Every one of them felt it.
And then came the silence, heavy and suffocating.
Through the swirling haze of dust, Jorin saw him. A flash of black against the beast's gray hide. A figure small in size but impossible to ignore. The glow of a mark burned across his arm, a violet fire that cut through the shadows like a brand.
Jorin's chest tightened. He didn't recognize the boy—not at first. There was power in that presence, raw and suffocating. But then the haze shifted, and the truth hit him.
Kael.
The blank.
Jorin's mind stalled. How?
Kael stood before the beast, his dagger dripping with shadow fire. He didn't shake. He didn't cower. He watched, waiting, every muscle coiled, every breath sharp and steady.
The beast roared again, rage filling the cavern. It reared back, claws raised, chest expanding as rock began to form at its throat.
Kael's eyes narrowed. His body moved before the thought had even formed.
He sprinted forward, each step pounding like thunder, the dagger alive in his grip. The cavern blurred around him. The beast lunged. Its throat glowed, ready to unleash another stone barrage—
That was its mistake.
Kael jumped, shadows bursting beneath his feet like wings. He swung, the dagger slashing across the beast's throat.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the beast let out a final choking roar, blood and stone crumbling together. Its massive body shuddered, knees buckling, before crashing down onto the cavern floor. The impact sent a cloud of dust exploding outward, swallowing everything in gray.
Silence.
Jorin shielded his eyes against the storm of grit. When the haze cleared, he saw him—Kael, standing tall, dagger in hand, chest heaving. The mark on his arm still blazed, the glow burning through the cloud like a star.
For a moment, Jorin didn't see a powerless boy. He didn't see a blank. He saw a warrior standing over a fallen beast.
But then Kael staggered. His strength faltered, his body trembling as if the dagger itself had drained him. He turned toward Jorin, eyes unfocused, steps uneven.
And then he collapsed.
The blade of shadow flickered once, then dissolved into smoke. Kael hit the stone floor hard, the light on his arm dimming, fading to nothing.
Jorin rushed forward, catching a glimpse of the boy's pale face before the dust settled around them. His mind raced. This… this boy just killed a Type 3.
The blank no more.