The morning sun spilled across the training field, turning the dew into fleeting sparks of light. The air shimmered faintly with mana as the sound of clashing steel echoed through the courtyard.
Ronan lunged forward, his sword a blur. Selene pivoted, parrying with smooth precision before flipping backward, landing lightly on her feet. Their movements were fast — faster than they had been two weeks ago. Each exchange struck with clean rhythm, steel against steel, raw strength acquired through cultivation refined into form through training.
From a few meters away, Asher watched silently. His eyes followed every motion — not the flash of weapons, but the shift of weight, the small lapses in stance, the adjustment of mana flow in their limbs.
When Selene finally slipped past Ronan's guard and tapped the edge of her blade against his chestplate, Asher nodded once.
"Good. Your tempo's cleaner. You've learned to read each other instead of brute-forcing the fight."
Ronan exhaled, grinning despite the sweat. "Coming from you, that's basically a trophy."
Selene wiped her forehead. "It's only been two weeks since the last evaluation. You sure you're not secretly teaching us while we sleep?"
Asher didn't reply, but the faintest flicker crossed his lips — approval. Then his gaze shifted as a sudden flare of light caught his attention.
Overhead, two figures danced in the sky.
Lilith and Iris.
The air rippled around them as magic circles flared to life beneath their feet. They darted through the air like streaks of color — Lilith's violet aura twisting and spiraling, Iris' emerald one steady and sharp.
"Light Bearer!" Iris called, thrusting her hand forward. A pulse of mana shot toward Lilith, slicing through the clouds. Swiftly, she created her own barrier.
Lilith smiled faintly, her staff spinning. A blast of violet energy surged out — but instead of meeting Iris' directly, she curved it, bending the beam around Iris's barrier until it struck from behind.
The resulting flare lit the field with dazzling brilliance.
Ronan whistled. "That was definitely not a basic blast spell."
Selene shaded her eyes, impressed. "She curved it mid-flight. You can't do that without mana sense on both sides of the arc."
Asher crossed his arms, observing the duel as the two mages began to exchange rapid sequences — fire colliding with wind, earth shards rising only to be melted midair. Defensive barriers shimmered and whirred, holding strong with each collision. The ground trembled slightly beneath their rhythm.
When the last spell dissolved into harmless sparks, both girls descended, their breathing heavy but satisfied.
"Not bad," Asher said. "You've improved your control. Iris — your calm but firm strikes have gotten better. Lilith — your bending's sharper, but your delay between transitions is still too long."
Lilith lowered her staff, her violet hair sticking to her face. "You actually sound impressed."
Then......, for the first time in the weeks they had spent together, they all saw it — the faint upward nudge at the corners of his mouth.
Ronan blinked. Selene froze mid-step. Iris turned toward Lilith in disbelief.
"Wait… was that—?"
"No way—"
"Asher smiled?" Lilith blurted, eyes wide.
They all stared for a long second before bursting into chaotic laughter, their noise breaking through the otherwise disciplined field. Ronan clutched his side. "It's the apocalypse! He smiled!"
Asher just sighed softly, turning away — but the small smirk lingered.
He didn't tell them that the reason for it wasn't amusement.
He could feel it — the faint distortion beneath the academy grounds, the silent tremor in the flow of mana that no one else noticed.
Something was waking up.
And this time, it wasn't hiding anymore.
The Hi'orei Estate — Later that Day
Lauren stood at the entrance to her family home, the sun setting behind her, painting the marble steps in amber light.
The tall figure waiting for her at the door smiled warmly. "Lauren."
Her father — Lord Rhogan Hi'orei — looked almost the same as when she'd left: tall, hazel-haired, his trimmed beard streaked faintly with silver, blue eyes calm and kind. His presence radiated a quiet authority that could calm most storms.
"Father." She bowed slightly. "You look well."
"As do you," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Though I can't say I expected you on a weekday. Has something happened?"
Lauren hesitated only a second. "I received a letter. From you. Or… supposedly from you."
His smile didn't fade, but something in his eyes flickered. "A letter?"
She reached into her cloak and pulled out the sealed parchment, placing it on the table between them. "The seal was yours. The instructions were… strange."
He looked at it, tilting his head slightly, then — to her growing unease — simply chuckled. "You shouldn't let trivial things worry you, Lauren. The academy must be stressful enough."
"It's not trivial," she pressed. "The seal is authentic. The handwriting is perfect. And the Master received one as well."
Lord Eriden's expression softened, but his tone was dismissive. "Then do as the letter says. You have nothing to fear."
Lauren's eyes narrowed. "You mean it was real?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he gestured toward the hall. "Come. You must be hungry. Stay the night — we'll speak tomorrow."
She wanted to argue, but something in his calm made her stop. Against her better judgment, she nodded. "...Alright."
The mansion was quiet by evening, bathed in the orange glow of chandeliers.
Lauren's mother, Lady Pheona, returned not long after sunset — her steps hurried, eyes bright when she saw her daughter.
"Lauren!" she exclaimed, wrapping her in a warm embrace. "Oh, thank the stars you're home. It's been too long."
They sat together for dinner, conversation light until Pheona hesitated mid-meal. "Lauren… did you ever find out anything about..... Asher?"
Lauren's fork paused halfway to her lips. "Actually…" she began, glancing between her parents. "I did. He's at the academy."
Her mother's eyes widened, lighting up. "Truly? After all these years— Freya will be so happy to hear this!"
At the name, her father's gaze flicked up for just a heartbeat — something unreadable flashing through his expression before he smiled again.
"Good," he said quietly. "That's… good news."
That Same Night — Back at the Academy
The moon hung low, casting pale light over the dorm halls. Kael walked quietly through the corridor, a notebook tucked under one arm.
He stopped at what he thought was Asher's door and knocked once.
No answer.
"Asher?" he called softly. "You awake?"
Still nothing.
The door creaked slightly, unlatched. A faint draft whispered through the gap. Frowning, Kael pushed it open.
The room was dark. Completely dark.
He hesitated, peering inside. "Hey—"
Something cold touched his wrist.
Before he could react, an unseen force yanked him inward. The door slammed shut behind him.
Kael gasped as the world around him warped — colors draining away until all that remained was shifting grey stone lit by dim blue torches. The air was heavy, pressing down like unseen weight.
Then he saw them.
Figures — tall, humanoid, their skin pale as ash, hair pure white, and from their backs unfurled great black wings that shimmered faintly with mana.
Kael stumbled backward, his heart pounding. "What… what is this…?"
The creatures regarded him silently, their eyes cold and distant — more ancient than human.
Just as one of them reached for him, the air trembled.
A pulse of purple light rippled through the chamber.
And from the barrier behind them, Asher stepped through.
His eyes glowed with violet radiance, calm but razor-sharp.
"I can't believe it's been right under my nose," he said quietly.
The winged beings froze. None had opened the passage for him. None had sensed his presence until he was already inside.
It was impossible.
Asher's gaze swept across the chamber — the flickering torches, the silent watchers, the distortion of mana at the edges of the room.
So this was it — The Tenebrous Boundary.
Asher's voice cut through the still air. "I must say.... you've hidden well. But...... you've run out of luck."
The creatures didn't move. They didn't need to — their silence was language enough.
Asher took another step forward, unafraid. "Chaos… in the heart of the academy. How careless."
The torches flickered violently as if the room itself reacted to his words.
Kael, frozen by fear, watched him — realizing, maybe for the first time, that the quiet, calculating Asher he knew wasn't just intelligent.
He was dangerous.