After the match, nothing returned to normal.
It wasn't loud.There were no riots, no open threats.Just looks.
Sam felt them everywhere — in the hallways, in the silence between conversations, in the way people stopped whispering when he passed. The same mouths that once praised him now hesitated.
He had lost.
And worse — he had lost to Taarush, someone everyone had dismissed.
In the meeting hall, the air was heavy.
Lord sat still, his gaze fixed on Sam.Not angry.Not disappointed.Just watching.
Sam snapped first.
"Shut up," he said, his voice sharp. "I know. I let my guard down. Do you really think he can win again?"
Lord stood and stepped closer. He placed a hand briefly on Sam's head — not comfort, not approval.
"Try," Lord said quietly."And if you lose again…"He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
The silence that followed made it clear: Lord's authority didn't come from strength. It came from inevitability.
John wasn't listening anymore. His mind was elsewhere.
How did Taarush get that strong?The question kept circling, refusing to settle.
Across the room, Ram lay back on a bench, arms folded, pretending not to care. But even he was listening now.
Lord moved toward the central chair — the seat everyone assumed was his.He stopped.
"This seat," Lord said, gripping the backrest, "is meant for one person. And I am not that person."
John clenched his fist. He knew it. Everyone did. Lord was perfect for it — and yet he refused.
"I'm glad," Lord continued, "that someone is finally trying to challenge us."
Ram straightened. "So when does the war start?"
Lord glanced at him. "I didn't know you were interested in fights, Ram."
They exchanged looks. Then, one by one, they sat.
They all understood.
This wasn't training anymore.This was preparation.
Lord tossed several photographs onto the table.
Children.School uniforms.Pens in their hands.
Sam frowned. "Those are just pens. What's wrong with that?"
Lord didn't answer.
Instead, Ram reached into his pocket and tossed a pen onto the table. It slid to a stop beside the photos.
"Check," Ram said.
Lord's eyes narrowed. "So they've started measuring already."
John looked between them. "Measuring what?"
"This isn't a pen," Ram said. "It's a delivery system. Drug inside. One use, and it rewires the brain. Addiction isn't slow with this."
Sam's expression hardened.
"I saw a student," Ram continued, "beat his own friend unconscious just because he took it from him. They're not experimenting anymore. They're distributing."
Lord turned to Sam. "And you won't touch this. Ever."
Sam nodded, jaw tight.
"This is connected to someone calling himself Mr. Master," Lord said. "Their motive doesn't matter yet. The result does. They're destabilizing the school from the inside."
John finally spoke. "And Taarush?"
No one answered immediately.
"We're graduating soon," Lord said instead. "That means time is limited. We end this before we leave."
Elsewhere.
Sweat hit the floor as Taarush stumbled back.
"You've gotten stronger," Robert said calmly. "Let's see if you can handle this."
The kick landed like thunder.
Taarush blocked — barely — and dropped to one knee.
"Phase two," Robert said.
"What's that, sensei?" Taarush asked, breathing hard.
Robert moved.
Fast. Controlled. Precise.
Kicks from angles Taarush couldn't predict. Every block burned. Every second pushed him closer to collapse.
When it ended, they sat on the floor, backs against the wall.
"Don't doubt it," Robert said. "You're strong now."
He looked at Taarush and, for a moment, saw himself — weak once, desperate to protect people who mattered.
Back in the hall, John stood abruptly, chair scraping the floor.
"Something's wrong," he said. "Taarush didn't do this alone. Someone's backing him."
No one responded.
The vape mattered more.The drugs mattered more.
"If I were you," Lord said calmly, "I'd help resolve this case."
John hesitated. "I've seen that vape before. We might have someone who can help but—"
"But?" Lord asked.
"Heaven—"
"No," Lord cut in. "Waste of time. Sam will handle it. Find who's selling it."
John slammed his fist into the table. "I'm serious. One powerhouse already fell. We can't afford another. Don't underestimate Taarush."
Lord watched him.
And smiled — faintly.
He trusted instinct.But now, John was already walking into a trap.
Taarush had become a piece on the board.
And the war had already begun.
Somewhere, Taarush shivered.
"Sensei," he said quietly, "is it cold… or is it just me?"