Kaelen sat on the edge of his bed, unbuttoning his shirt to change before dinner. Yet, before he could, his body froze.
A pulse.
Something far, far away — beyond the plains, past the empire's borders, deep in the direction of the Jura Forest. It wasn't just bloodlust; it was something sinister, unstable, almost… berserk.
His hand twitched toward the window. One leap and he could vanish into the night to investigate.But just as he slid the window open, a knock came at his door.
"Kaelen," Sophia's gentle voice called, "dinner's ready."
The boy exhaled sharply, closing the window with a snap. Whatever that was, it could wait. For now, he changed quickly and left his room.
He was the last to arrive at the dining table. The moment he sat, the meal began. But Lyra's voice broke the quiet as she glanced at the empty seat at the head of the table.
"…We're starting without Dad?" she asked, frowning.
Kaelen paused too, a hint of confusion in his eyes.
Their mother, Ellira, kept her calm as she cut through her meal. "Your father received a summons after you three left the academy. A gathering of powerful nobles… he didn't explain further."That was enough to silence the table.
The family ate quietly until Sophia stepped forward again, carrying a sealed letter. She placed it beside Ellira. The mother read in silence before placing it down.
"It's a summons frrom the academy for Group 5. That means you three… and Selianne. Tomorrow morning. Another group from Class S has also been summoned, though the letter doesn't say which."
Lyra groaned, pouting, "Ehh? So soon? I was finally planning to slack off for a bit!"
Allaric rolled his eyes. "Quit whining."
Kaelen said nothing. His mind was elsewhere — back to that sinister pulse from Jura.
The next day, the three siblings arrived at the academy and quickly spotted Selianne. Waiting nearby was another group — Group 3 of Class S (First Years):
Iria Luthren
Cassian Deymar
Halric Vos
Slyra Tenebrin
Being in the same year, they were already somewhat familiar, so both groups naturally closed the distance.
Lyra was the first to speak. "You guys arrived early… do you know why?"
Iria crossed her arms, frowning. "A monster horde. Coming straight from Jura. And…" she hesitated, "there's even talk of an Orc Disaster."
The word Jura sharpened Kaelen's focus. His senses last night hadn't lied. Something was wrong.
Soon after, two groups of second years and two groups of third years joined them. Then their class teacher, Mirelle Astoria, arrived alongside a knight in full armor.
"THer is a horde of orcs coming" Mirelle confirmed, her expression grave. "Thousands of em, advancing toward the Empire from Jura. The possibility of an Orc Disaster cannot be ignored. The Imperial Army will arrive tomorrow. Until then, we need you students to hold the line. You are here because you are the best of your year."
The gathered students, the orders were clear. Soon after, they boarded carriages and departed for the frontline.
After hours of travel, the battlefield came into view. The fortress wall loomed, soldiers and knights lining its defenses. As Kaelen stepped down, a few knights whispered among themselves, recognizing him and his siblings.
"The Caelthorn children… the Lord's heirs."
Kaelen asked directly, "Where is he?"
One knight replied, "Lord Caelthorn marched with the vanguard attack force, my lord."
Before Kaelen could question further, an explosion rocked the ground outside the wall. Dust and flame erupted, and a shadow moved within.
All eyes turned to the figure who emerged through the smoke.
A man with pristine white hair, a regal mask obscuring most of his face, save for the piercing glow of violet eyes. His robes shimmered with gold and violet embroidery, layered and ancient, fit for royalty long forgotten.
The battlefield froze. Even the knights, hardened and bloodied, felt their breath stolen by his unearthly aura.
Kaelen's heart pounded. Recognition struck him instantly.
That presence. That figure. The same mysterious being who had stood alongside Ivarge in the haunted palace.
Without hesitation, Kaelen's flames ignited.
A fiery spear, thin and straight like a burning staff, formed in his hand — Phoenix Flame. He hurled it at the masked being, who lazily shifted aside, letting go of the knight he had been holding by the neck.
The flame struck the ground, and instantly spread, not as destruction but as restoration. Across the battlefield, the injured and fallen knights gasped as wounds sealed, bones mended, and strength returned.
Kaelen landed before the masked man, his body cloaked in the same fire. Wings shaped behind him, his eyes glowing fiercely.
He looked up, his voice cold and cutting.
"…What the hell do you think you're doing?"
His flames roared higher, and in his eyes gleamed not just defiance, but as a dangerous warning