Kael's footsteps echoed down the dimly lit hallway. The curfew bell had long rung, but he couldn't sleep. His thoughts had been running circles since morning, when Asher dismissed him from the sparring matches without a word.
Maybe now he could ask him why.
He stopped at the third door from the corner — Asher's room, or so he thought. The corridor was unusually silent, the air thick and cold. A faint hum brushed past his ears, almost like a whisper from nowhere.
Kael frowned and knocked softly.
No response.
The door creaked open on its own.
"Asher?" he called out, voice low.
Darkness stared back at him. The interior looked swallowed whole — not even the faint moonlight from the corridor could pierce through.
He took one step in, attempting to speak....
Then something cold and unseen coiled around his wrist.
Before Kael could scream, the floor beneath him vanished, and the world twisted into black flame. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he was dragged through the darkness — and when his vision cleared, he was no longer in the academy.
He was standing inside a vast stone hall, its walls cracked and old, lit by blue mana torches that burned with mana instead of fire. His knees trembled. The air here was thick with death and something else… something ancient.
Then they appeared.
Figures — tall, pale-skinned beings, their white hair gleaming against the shadows. Each one had black wings, feathers that shimmered with an oily sheen, eyes glinting like molten gold. Kael's heart seized.
"What… what are you?" he whispered.
One of them tilted his head, and though his lips moved, Kael couldn't understand the words. It wasn't just a different tongue — it was like sound itself bent around them.
The beings murmured among themselves, their words low and sharp, glancing at Kael like he was prey.
Then a familiar voice cut through the air.
"I can't believe it's been right under my nose," he said quietly.
Kael's head whipped around — Asher was there, stepping calmly through the boundary as if it were mist.
The winged beings froze.
Several of them took involuntary steps back.
Kael blinked in disbelief. "H-how did you—"
But Asher didn't answer. He was already looking at them, his violet eyes faintly glowing in the half-dark, calm and unreadable.
One of the creatures hissed in their language again, this time more shaken.
Asher replied in the same tongue — fluidly. Perfectly.
The room fell utterly still.
"I just walked in," Asher said plainly, his tone almost curious. "You didn't exactly close the door behind you."
The creatures exchanged uncertain looks. The eldest among them — tall, his black wings longer than the rest — stepped forward and bowed his head slightly.
"You… can speak our tongue. Then it is true," he said. "The god's will flows through you."
Asher narrowed his eyes. "Explain yourself!"
The creature smiled faintly. "We are not of your realm. We came to retrieve what was lost — a book, torn from our world and swallowed by yours. To find it, we required two sacrifices: one who has been denied sustenance for two days… and one freshly taken."
Kael froze, horror tightening his chest.
The dead boy…
"You're the ones behind the murder," Asher said quietly.
The creature nodded without hesitation. "The ritual requires both halves to speak to our god. With them, we may receive guidance."
"And why humans?" Asher's tone was sharp now.
"Because," the being said with cold reverence, "you humans are the closest imitation of our form in this forsaken plane."
A long silence followed. Asher studied their faces, every flicker of movement, every pulse of mana. Then his gaze fixed on the eldest again.
"And..... why did you tell me all this without hesitation?"
"Because, you are the Servant," the creature said, kneeling. "The Chaos within you marks you as such. Only those chosen may wield it without crumbling."
For a second, Asher said nothing. The air seemed to hold its breath. Then, slowly, his lips curved in a faint, humorless smile.
"You're not wrong," he murmured. "But there's one mistake."
The creature frowned. "And that is?"
"I don't serve anyone."
Before the words could fully register, Asher moved — faster than sight, faster than sound.
A line of black light flashed across the space.
The creature's head hit the ground before his body realized it was dead.
The others shouted in their strange tongue, wings spreading wide as they lunged forward — but the torches flickered, and darkness bled across the walls.
"Dark Shadow Style: Striking Shadow."
A shadow blurred across the floor — then split into three.
Each clone, bathed in his shadow, darted in a different direction, striking at the nearest target. Wings clashed against invisible blades, black feathers scattering through the gloom.
A blast of mana surged from behind, and Asher twisted midair, his body spinning through a volley of light spears. He landed on one knee, pressing a hand to the ground.
"Abyssal Art: Penumbra."
The torches died instantly.
Darkness swallowed everything.
The winged creatures shouted in alarm — their voices bouncing off the walls. Their eyes could pierce through fog, through illusion, but not this. Not this absolute void that devoured even sound.
And in that void, something moved — fast, precise, silent.
A wing snapped. Another creature screamed as a blade of condensed shadow tore through its chest.
Kael could only watch — or rather, feel — the air shift around him, the battle invisible yet violent. When light returned, only Asher stood, his breathing steady. Around him, the corpses of the creatures lay in ruin.
The last winged man's eyes burned with rage as he bared his fangs, madness evident in his eyes.
"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!!!"
He beat his wings, sending a violent gust through the chamber. Feathers scattered around him — but then they stopped midair, hardening into razor-sharp blades that hovered in a circle.
With a snarl, he thrust his hand forward.
The feathers shot out like arrows.
Asher moved — his form blurring as each feather sliced past him, embedding deep into the walls. The air screamed with their velocity. He lunged, stretching out his twin shadow daggers.
The creature swung his arm — two feathers twisted into blackened hand-blades, clashing against Asher's blades in a burst of sparks.
Their blades met again and again, each strike faster, heavier.
The floor cracked beneath their feet as the rhythm of steel echoed in the dark.
Asher feinted left — then right — and drove his knee into the man's abdomen, forcing him back.
The creature staggered, then grinned — the feathers that had missed earlier suddenly whirled back toward them.
But Asher was already anticipating it.
He ducked low, twisting beneath the returning barrage — the feathers stabbed into their master's back, punching through his wings with a sickening crack.
The winged man roared in agony and fury, rising into the air.
Asher's eyes flashed violet.
"Dark Shadow Style: Dash."
He vanished, reappearing above the man in a single blink — his speed bending the air around him. The creature barely avoided a direct strike, feeling the wind graze his cheek.
But Asher wasn't done.
He kicked off the ceiling with such force that it cracked, descending like a meteor — his blade slashing downward, tearing through the man's shoulder. Blood sprayed into the air.
The creature screamed, throwing off his shredded top, his torso revealing scars and muscle thick with black veins. He flared his wings — and in that instant, he and Asher disappeared.
Kael's breath caught.
He could no longer follow.
To his eyes, they had become blurs — streaks of black and white, weaving across the floor, the walls, even the ceiling. Sparks of steel flickered like lightning bugs in the dark. The pressure of their clash made the air hum violently.
Each impact sounded like thunder.
Kael shielded his face from the wind, barely glimpsing Asher's outline as he spun through the chaos.
Then the winged man shrieked in desperation, unleashing every last feather in a storm of death.
Asher didn't flinch.
"Dark Shadow Style: Eclipse Rend."
He spun midair, black lightning crackling along his blades. The world seemed to tilt — every feather that came close was torn apart by the rotating field of dark mana. The strike's aftershock shredded the ground beneath him, dispersing the barrage in an instant.
Before the man could recover, Asher appeared right in front of him — his fist slamming upward into his gut with wind-cracking force. The impact lifted the creature off his feet.
Asher's gaze remained cold. He bent his knees, mana flaring beneath his soles, and launched himself upward to the ceiling.
With one deep breath, he gathered momentum in his legs.
Then he dove — blade-first, a streak of black light.
The daggers pierced through the man's chest.
The two of them crashed into the ground, the impact shaking the boundary to its core.
When the dust settled, only Asher stood.
Asher turned and walked toward the far end of the boundary. There, in a small circle of faded runes, lay a boy, weak but breathing.
Kael's eyes widened. "That's—"
"The missing student," Asher said, his tone low. "The body and blood they found was planted."
He motioned for Kael to take the boy. Kael hurried forward, still shaken, but relieved beyond words.
Asher's gaze moved to the wall. Strange markings pulsed faintly — the core of the boundary's formation. He studied it, memorizing each sigil before he raised his hand.
A ripple of power tore through the space.
The walls cracked. The runes shattered.
The boundary collapsed leaving the dead winged men inside.
When Kael blinked again, they were back in the hallway — the door before them now broken and empty, as if nothing had been there.
Kael turned to Asher, words trembling on his lips. "W-what just—"
"Forget it," Asher interrupted. "Bury it between us...... for now."
Kael nodded silently, his pulse still racing.
Asher's gaze lingered on the remnants of the black feather clinging to his glove. The faint traces of chaos still resonated in the air — but this time, his expression was calm.
He finally knew what was causing the stir.