The heavy obsidian doors of the Grand Tribunal Hall creaked shut behind us, blocking out the venomous glares of Arthur, his uncle, and Vice Principal Rosette. In the vaulted corridors lined with marble in the academy's administrative section, the air was cool and crisp, but the hand that Lina had resting on my forearm was still ice-cold.
She pressed her fingers so deeply into the fabric of my coat that I could feel the tremors of her pulse.
She whispered "Amar", her voice no louder than the hum of the spirit-lights overhead. "Arthur... he took it seriously. His uncle has links with the elite military academies in the capital and Arthur has been developing the Vance family's Blazing Sun Art since he was eight years old. If he contests you in the arena at the Ranking Tournament..."
"I'll let him do whatever he wants," I replied smoothly, and then slowed my step to match hers as we turned down a quiet wing which led towards the library gardens. "A candle considers itself to be a sun until the wind puts it out, Lina. There's no need for you to waste your breath concerning Arthur Vance."
Lina looked at me in a troubled and searching way; her lips opened as though she had more to say, but she stayed silent and looked away towards the tall stained-glass windows which overlook the training courtyards.
She didn't know—nothing in fact could have been imagined by anyone in this whole academy—that Arthur Vance was already walking about with a ticking time bomb hidden inside his chest.
In my mind there was always a small, secondary thread of consciousness which had broken off and entered a foreign area.
Inhale. Exhale.
I experienced the scorching heat of Arthur's breath through fifty small, crystalline viewpoints.
My fifty phage clones had successfully managed to get past his outer nasal defences, using the draft caused by his angry breathing to enter the deep mucosal layer of his bronchial branches. To an ordinary martial artist, this kind of invasion was entirely imperceptible since there was no foreign spiritual qi, no elemental resonance, and no killing intent; it was entirely a biological process—a tiny drop of water vanishing into a tumultuous ocean.
I pulled on the tail fibers of the leading phage and secured it firmly within the outer membrane of an epithelial cell close to one of his main meridian conduits.
A weak and regular sensation entered my awareness via that small physical connection; it was the result of Arthur's Blazing Sun Art—coarse and aggressive waves of fiery martial qi pulsing through his blood vessels just as if they were molten copper.
That is the kind of energy a Martial Practitioner has, something that I observed with cold scientific detachment.
For my human body a direct hit from that fiery qi could have resulted in severe burns or have bruised a rib; but for my sub-microscopic clones embedded within his respiratory tissue it was simply a case of high-density biological heat.
System, show me Arthur's biological matrix, I ordered silently.
Immediately, a small, semi-transparent blue sub-window materialized exclusively within my secondary visual thread:
=====================================================
HOST PARASITE TELEMETRY (TARGET: ARTHUR)
=====================================================
[Target Stage]: Martial Practitioner (Grade 3)
[Elemental Core]: Fire Attribute (Low-Tier Variant)
[Active Parasitic Clones]: 50 Units
[Current Mode]: Silent Infiltration / Monitoring
-----------------------------------------------------
[AVAILABLE PARASITIC PROTOCOLS]:
1. Cellular Replication: Use the target's surrounding
The respiratory bacteria/cells will swarm and multiply.
2. Meridian Interference. Disrupt fire-qi flow.
While Target is carrying out its martial release.
3. Internal Necrosis (lethal): Set off massive lysis within
The pulmonary vessels. (Warning: This causes immediate death of the target).
=====================================================
I restrained myself from letting a dark and involuntary smirk appear on my human face.
I had not selected the lethal course of action since carrying out Arthur's killing right now within the academy would have drawn an immediate investigation from the highest authorities of the Star Empire, thus upsetting my plans and placing unnecessary pressure on Lina.
Instead, I set a quiet, automated command:
Protocol 1: Silent Replication.
At that time I instructed the fifty phages to stay away from his vital human cells and instead to go after the ordinary ambient bacteria which naturally occur in his respiratory flora. Over the following three weeks prior to the Ranking Tournament, those fifty clones would gradually become hundreds of thousands, forming an invisible, silent parasitic network that would spread along his main qi pathways.
At the time the tournament came around, Arthur wouldn't be fighting me; he'd be fighting his own failing lungs.
At the same time, Lina who was walking by my side was having her own storm.
Under the collar of her uniform the old silver pendant which her mother had given her emitted a mild and invisible warmth. And once again deep inside her sea of consciousness the supernatural, superior female voice resonated, clearly showing her lack of appreciation.
Tsk, how foolish of you, little girl—worrying about an ant that has only just gathered a tiny amount of ordinary mortal fire?
Lina froze in the middle of her step, her eyes widening as she mentally gasped. 'Senior... can you speak directly into my thoughts?'
"Of course I can," the ancient immortal replied in a casual tone, his voice rich, smooth, and resonant as though it were coming from inside a magnificent celestial palace. "I am a fragment of the soul of the Sovereign Dragon Empress, who governed the Nine Heavens before the mortal dust that you call a world even existed. For ten thousand years my soul has been asleep in the Celestial Dragon Core which your mother wore around your neck; now that your True Dragon bloodline has partially awakened, my fragmented soul is finally able to communicate with your consciousness."
Lina had to swallow hard as she made an effort to keep her facial expression entirely even so that I wouldn't pick up on her inner thoughts. "A remnant soul of an Empress? Senior... what did you mean about Arthur? He's a Martial Practitioner, while I only just woke my meridians yesterday. If he forces a match—"
"Hmph! You have the blood of the primordial sovereigns coursing through your veins!" the female immortal sneered coldly. "Even if you have only just awakened a small part of your latent dragon energy yesterday, your base is still far superior to these ordinary mortals who build up their strength by eating dirty spirit stones! Thanks to my instruction over the coming twenty days, beating that red-faced boy to death with your hands alone would be just as easy as swatting a fly."
Lina's heart pounded loudly against her ribs. 'Killing him...? No, Senior, I don't want to kill anyone! All I want to do is protect the Sunflower Orphanage and make sure that Amar isn't harmed because of me.'
The ancient female voice remained silent for a long time before emitting a soft and curious sigh.
The boy next to you—Amar Roy—what exactly is he, a little girl?
Lina blinked in surprise and said, "Amar? He's... the trustee of this academy and the heir to the Roy business estate; it was he who bought all the spirit stones that awakened my bloodline yesterday."
"There's an unnatural about him," the immortal said, her earlier casual arrogance giving way to true suspicion. "When he was on those stairs earlier, I used my divine perception to investigate his physical realm. On the surface he seems to be no more than an unawakened Martial Apprentice possessing a dormant ice-type talent. But underneath that..."
The immortal paused, struggling to choose the correct words.
There exists within him a dreadfully cold and empty space. When my divine probe made contact with his skin it was immediately devoured by an abyss. It's as though there is an infinite, microscopic swarm of ravenous ghosts waiting in the dark. Be careful when you are near him, little girl; a sixteen-year-old boy with such a strangely eerie atmosphere of complete control is far more frightening than a hundred garrison captains.
Lina looked up at me again.
I was walking calmly, with my hands gently in my pockets, the morning sunlight highlighting the platinum edges of my hair. To anyone watching, I appeared to be an elegant and detached young master strolling about in a tranquil courtyard; yet when I heard the immortal's warning, Lina recalled the tears I had shed in the Student Council room—the deep, shattered despair I had shown in my eyes when I had held her and had whispered that she would always be mine.
'He isn't a ghost,' Lina replied fiercely to the immortal, being so quick to defend me that she was surprised at how fast she had done it. 'Though he may be cold and may carry out all sorts of strange actions... he cried for me. He hit me because he had been hurt when I offered myself like an object, and he had spent a great deal of money just to make sure that I wouldn't be talentless. Whatever darkness he may have inside him... I am certain that he will never use it to do me harm.'
In the deep part of her sea of consciousness, the female immortal emitted a dry, wry chuckle. "Ah, youth. You're blind, sentimental and stubborn. Very well, go on and believe whatever you like. But if you really want to stand by that odd boy without becoming a burden, you'll have to get ready. From tonight on I'm going to teach you the True Dragon Nine Transformations. If you can't stand the pain, don't come blaming me when this mortal city crushes you both."
When we got to the entrance of the Academy Library there was a wide stone archway shaded by huge, ancient blue-leaf oaks.
I said to Lina, stopping in front of the marble steps and turning to look at her.
She pulled herself out of her thoughts and looked up at me in a state of surprise. "Yes, Amar?"
"You don't have regular classes scheduled until the afternoon," I said smoothly, pulling a sleek, obsidian keycard embossed with the Roy estate crest from my inner coat pocket and placing it into her palm. "Take this. It's the master pass to the third-floor private cultivation chambers in the library. The spirit energy density there is three times higher than the public training fields, and the security wards are tied directly to my personal authorization. No one—not Arthur, not Rosette, not even the Headmaster—can disturb you inside."
Lina looked down at the heavy, cold card in her hand, her throat tightening with emotion. "Amar... you don't have to keep giving me things like this. You've already done more than enough."
"I told you," I replied, leaning in slightly, my voice dropping into that familiar, quiet intensity that made her breath catch. "You are mine to protect. Go inside, stabilize your newly awakened energy, and don't worry about anything outside these walls. I have some business to attend to with the Academy Logistics Board."
Lina hesitated, her fingers curling tight around the obsidian keycard. Then, taking a small breath, she nodded.
"Okay," she whispered softly. "Be careful, Amar."
"Always," I said.
I watched her walk up the marble stairs and disappear through the grand wooden doors of the library. Only when the heavy wards of the building registered her safe entry did the warm softness on my face completely vanish, replaced by a mask of cold, predatory calculation.
I turned on my heel, walking toward the academy's underground administrative complex.
Deep within my chest, my status panel updated once more:
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SWARM STATUS PANEL
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[Active Bacteriophage Clones]: 480,000 / 1,000,000,000
[Secondary Host Tracked]: Arthur Vance (120 Clones Replicated)
[Next Milestone]: 1,000,000 Clones (Estimated: 6 Hours)
=====================================================
Almost half a million.
The exponential curve was accelerating. And by the time the sun dipped below the horizon tonight, my microscopic legion would reach its first million—unlocking the first true offensive capability of my Z-rank body.
A chilling smile cut across my face as I vanished into the shadows of the corridor.