The magic circle was gone. The barrier surrounding the academy had shattered into nothing.
The man in the suit was on his knees, clutching the wound in his chest. His face twisted with pain, eyes wide with disbelief. The backlash of mana still rippled violently through his body, making his movements staggered.
Isaac's eyes flicked to Claire. Just one look was enough. She understood.
"Everyone! The barrier is down—run, now!" Claire's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
"As if I'll let you…" The suited man rasped, his voice muffled by the blood filling his throat. He raised one trembling hand.
The earth trembled. Chunks of stone tore free from the ground, trees ripped themselves from their roots, and all of it hovered in the air, orbiting him like weapons.
"If you won't join me," he hissed, lowering his hand, "then I'll destroy you all."
The deadly barrage hurtled toward the fleeing students.
But Isaac stepped forward, his expression flat and cold. Crimson mist burst around him, weaving into a massive spiderweb that caught the storm of debris midair. The crash thundered through the courtyard, but the web held.
The students didn't waste the chance. One by one, they fled. Claire gripped Maya tightly, hoisting Liam onto her flame lion, and rode out through the broken gates.
Isaac exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly. Maya should finally be safe now.
Behind him, Trish lingered.
"What about you? Why aren't you leaving?" Isaac asked, his tone casual, though his eyes never left the suited man.
"I would like to," Trish admitted, daggers sliding into her hands as she prepared herself, "but I was ordered to help you."
The man staggered back to his feet, swaying unsteadily. His bloodshot eyes burned as they locked onto the two of them.
"You'll regret this…" he growled.
He dug into his pocket with a shaking hand, pulling out a small vial of murky liquid. His fingers clenched. Glass shattered, shards cutting deep into his palm.
The liquid writhed as though alive, slithering into his wounds like worms burrowing into flesh.
A manic laugh tore out of his throat.
"Heh… hehehe… HAHAHAHAHA!" His body convulsed violently, veins bulging as his mana flared—wild, unrestrained, terrifying.
Then he vanished.
Isaac barely registered the movement before a palm smashed across his face. The blow slammed him into the ground, stone cracking beneath his back. His vision spun as the suited man pinned him down, grinning with jagged teeth.
Trish reacted instantly, leaping forward with her daggers—but an unseen force seized her midair. Her body froze, lifted off the ground, an invisible hand wrapping around her throat. She choked, legs kicking as she dangled helplessly.
The man straightened, brushing dust from his suit. His eyes lingered on Isaac's battered face before drifting toward the academy gates.
"What a shame…" he muttered, his tone almost sorrowful. "Why is it that you kids always refuse to listen?"
He sighed dramatically, as if disappointed in a stubborn child. One hand smoothed his chest, adjusting his tie—only to find half of it shredded. His expression soured.
"…This was an expensive tie."
His gaze snapped back to Trish. His head tilted, studying her features with unsettling curiosity. He stepped closer, eyes narrowing.
"You… what are you?"
Trish's face twisted in shock. How…?
"Oh… I see." A cruel smile crept across his bloodied lips. "You're not from this world, are you?"
Her heart sank. Her lungs burned under the crushing grip, and she could barely gasp for air, let alone speak.
"Creatures like you…" His voice dripped with venom. He lifted his free hand, and one of Trish's daggers rose into the air, hovering above her chest, its tip gleaming coldly.
"…aren't fit to walk this world."
The blade lunged toward her heart.but it cracked before it could reach her heart.
The invisible force holding Trish loosened, faltering.
The man in the suit staggered backward, his polished shoes scraping against the blood-soaked floor. The air grew heavy, choked with the metallic tang of blood.
Trish's wide eyes darted past him—and froze.
Isaac stood there, barely upright. Strands of his black hair had bleached to white, his chest rising in ragged breaths. A crimson mist coiled around him like a living thing, seeping into the ground and staining the air.
"Impressive," the man in the suit muttered, forcing a smirk, though his voice carried a nervous edge.
Isaac didn't respond. His gaze was empty—unfocused, as if he wasn't fully there.
---
[System Alert]
Insanity Index: 100%
Skill ?????? — ACTIVATED
Recalibrating…
Recalibrating…
Recalibrating…
Skill ?????? has chosen to reveal its name.
Skill ?????? is now: [The Forgotten].
---
The cascade of notifications rang in Isaac's skull, echoing like church bells at a funeral.
The crimson mist surged violently, then lunged at him, wrapping around his frame before hardening into jagged armor.
Blood streamed from his eyes in thick, scarlet lines—but it did not fall. It evaporated, twisting into smoke before solidifying again, sprouting into sharp, demonic horns.
Isaac's lips curled into a faint, unnatural grin as he stepped forward.
Each heavy step reverberated through the room.
Each breath exhaled more mist.
With every movement, the swirling crimson clung tighter, shaping itself into plates of armor that spread across his body.