The doors of the academy loomed before them like silent judges, yellow flags flapping in the breeze. The dungeon raid was over, but its darkness cast a shadow over every step the team made.
Roland walked in silence, bow slung over his shoulder. Behind him followed Mira, eyes downward, clenching staff in a white-knuckled grasp as if she thought it would be taken from her. Darius walked stiffly, jaws clenched, rage radiating from him like heat from his body.
But the most unnerving of them all was Lucian Vale.
He walked at the head of the group, his robe frayed at the hem, his face unreadable. The others whispered behind him, shooting nervous glances, but not one of them dared to walk beside him.
Not since what they had witnessed.
The shadow-blade remained burned into their minds. The way that the ice-beast had fallen before him, not with struggle, but with absolute certainty.
It wasn't human.
And yet he walked so quietly, as if nothing had happened at all.
By the time they reached the academy square, the rumors had already begun.
Students swarmed the plaza, chattering excitedly. Word of the dungeon exam had spread like wildfire, each retelling more exaggerated than the last.
"I heard Vale summoned an army of demons."
"No, no—you've got it wrong. They said he devoured the beast's soul."
"Either way, he's not normal. E-rank? That's a joke."
Lucian brushed them all aside. Their words were mosquitoes buzzing in his head.
But Seraphine. Seraphine did not brush them aside. She advanced, her amber eyes sweeping the crowd, balancing each whisper.
When they reached the instructor's hall, the overseer discharged the group. "Your marks will be reviewed. For now, rest. Results will be announced at the Festival of Awakening."
The rest dispersed in a hurry, eager to get away from the tension. Seraphine, however, remained.
"Vale," she murmured.
He hesitated, his gaze locked on hers.
Her gaze was unyielding, but her fists were clenched around her sword hilt. "What you did down there… wasn't something an E-rank could do."
Lucian's lips curled. "Then perhaps the crystal was mistaken."
"That wasn't mana," she pressed. Her voice lowered, trembling between fear and determination. "It was something else. Something I've never felt before."
Lucian met her gaze, his eyes unreadable. Shadows flickered faintly at his feet, gone before she could blink.
"Curiosity can be dangerous, Seraphine," he murmured.
For the first time, she faltered. His tone wasn't a threat, but a warning—gentle, almost protective, yet undeniably chilling.
And before she could ever speak again, he turned and disappeared, and she stood gazing after him.
Her heart pounded. She had fought monsters, faced fear head-on, but Lucian Vale… he scared her in a way she could not define.
And yet beneath the fear was something else—something warmer, something far more dangerous.
She had to know him.
Later that evening, the whispers reached the ears of the elite of the academy.
In the great hall, nobles congregated under chandeliers of magical flame. Wine poured, laughter resounded, but underlying was cutting curiosity.
"Vale, indeed? An E-rank who kills a monster that even the A-ranks could not kill?"
"Impossible. Unless…"
"Unless he's concealing something."
A youth in elegant silver robes stood leaning on the balcony, eavesdropping. His green eyes sparkled with mirth.
So the shadow has finally awakened.
He grinned. "Interesting."
Lucian sat by himself in his dorm, candlelight casting shadows off the walls. His robe was draped over the chair, his sword close at hand.
He looked at his hand, curling his fingers. Shadows danced about them, attracted to fire.
He should have waited. He had promised to keep his power hidden, to wait, to increase incrementally. But when Seraphine had been in danger, he couldn't.
Not again. Never again.
Her face haunted him even now—the flash of fear, the tremble in her voice when she'd screamed, Who are you?
Lucian drew a slow breath, tightening his fist. The shadows melted away.
She'll find out soon enough. But not yet. Not now.
A soft tap broke the silence.
Lucian's head snapped up. He walked to the door, giving himself only a glance through the thin slit.
Seraphine.
Her golden hair loose, her robe opened at the throat, her amber eyes burning with restless power.
"Vale," she breathed, her voice stronger than before. "We must talk."
Lucian looked into her eyes, the corner of his mouth curving upward.
And for the first time since his rebirth, he felt it—the fragile threads of destiny tightening, drawing him back into the storm.
The doors of the academy loomed before them like silent judges, yellow flags flapping in the breeze. The dungeon raid was over, but its darkness cast a shadow over every step the team made.
Roland walked in silence, bow slung over his shoulder. Behind him followed Mira, eyes downward, clenching staff in a white-knuckled grasp as if she thought it would be taken from her. Darius walked stiffly, jaws clenched, rage radiating from him like heat from his body.
But the most unnerving of them all was Lucian Vale.
He walked at the head of the group, his robe frayed at the hem, his face unreadable. The others whispered behind him, shooting nervous glances, but not one of them dared to walk beside him.
Not since what they had witnessed.
The shadow-blade remained burned into their minds. The way that the ice-beast had fallen before him, not with struggle, but with absolute certainty.
It wasn't human.
And yet he walked so quietly, as if nothing had happened at all.
By the time they reached the academy square, the rumors had already begun.
Students swarmed the plaza, chattering excitedly. Word of the dungeon exam had spread like wildfire, each retelling more exaggerated than the last.
"I heard Vale summoned an army of demons."
"No, no—you've got it wrong. They said he devoured the beast's soul."
"Either way, he's not normal. E-rank? That's a joke."
Lucian brushed them all aside. Their words were mosquitoes buzzing in his head.
But Seraphine. Seraphine did not brush them aside. She advanced, her amber eyes sweeping the crowd, balancing each whisper.
When they reached the instructor's hall, the overseer discharged the group. "Your marks will be reviewed. For now, rest. Results will be announced at the Festival of Awakening."
The rest dispersed in a hurry, eager to get away from the tension. Seraphine, however, remained.
"Vale," she murmured.
He hesitated, his gaze locked on hers.
Her gaze was unyielding, but her fists were clenched around her sword hilt. "What you did down there… wasn't something an E-rank could do."
Lucian's lips curled. "Then perhaps the crystal was mistaken."
"That wasn't mana," she pressed. Her voice lowered, trembling between fear and determination. "It was something else. Something I've never felt before."
Lucian met her gaze, his eyes unreadable. Shadows flickered faintly at his feet, gone before she could blink.
"Curiosity can be dangerous, Seraphine," he murmured.
For the first time, she faltered. His tone wasn't a threat, but a warning—gentle, almost protective, yet undeniably chilling.
And before she could ever speak again, he turned and disappeared, and she stood gazing after him.
Her heart pounded. She had fought monsters, faced fear head-on, but Lucian Vale… he scared her in a way she could not define.
And yet beneath the fear was something else—something warmer, something far more dangerous.
She had to know him.
Later that evening, the whispers reached the ears of the elite of the academy.
In the great hall, nobles congregated under chandeliers of magical flame. Wine poured, laughter resounded, but underlying was cutting curiosity.
"Vale, indeed? An E-rank who kills a monster that even the A-ranks could not kill?"
"Impossible. Unless…"
"Unless he's concealing something."
A youth in elegant silver robes stood leaning on the balcony, eavesdropping. His green eyes sparkled with mirth.
So the shadow has finally awakened.
He grinned. "Interesting."
Lucian sat by himself in his dorm, candlelight casting shadows off the walls. His robe was draped over the chair, his sword close at hand.
He looked at his hand, curling his fingers. Shadows danced about them, attracted to fire.
He should have waited. He had promised to keep his power hidden, to wait, to increase incrementally. But when Seraphine had been in danger, he couldn't.
Not again. Never again.
Her face haunted him even now—the flash of fear, the tremble in her voice when she'd screamed, Who are you?
Lucian drew a slow breath, tightening his fist. The shadows melted away.
She'll find out soon enough. But not yet. Not now.
A soft tap broke the silence.
Lucian's head snapped up. He walked to the door, giving himself only a glance through the thin slit.
Seraphine.
Her golden hair loose, her robe opened at the throat, her amber eyes burning with restless power.
"Vale," she breathed, her voice stronger than before. "We must talk."
Lucian looked into her eyes, the corner of his mouth curving upward.
And for the first time since his rebirth, he felt it—the fragile threads of destiny tightening, drawing him back into the storm.