The hallway was a crime scene.
Shattered glass glittered like frost.
Daiki lay unconscious, surrounded by three teachers and a medic frantically pumping healing aura into his chest.
Phones were still raised, livestreams still rolling, the entire school watching the impossible footage in real time.
Kai sat on the floor, back against the lockers, head in his hands.
The Fang mark on his collarbone had cooled to a dull red scar, but the taste of blood was still in his mouth—his own, bitten through his lip when the recoil hit.
Aria stood over him like a blade drawn for war.
Her short-blade was already out, hidden beneath her blazer but ready.
She didn't speak.
She didn't need to.
Every second, more students flooded the corridor, drawn by the explosion of power.
Some stared in awe.
Some in terror.
Some with naked hunger.
Ravnos was laughing inside Kai's skull—quiet, rolling thunder.
They smell it now.
The blood of kings.
The scent of ruin.
Kai pressed his palms to his eyes.
"Shut up. Just shut up."
He didn't mean Ravnos.
He meant the world.
Then the temperature dropped ten degrees in the space of a heartbeat.
Every light in the hallway flickered crimson.
A ripple went through the crowd.
Students parted like water before a shark.
Five figures stepped into the corridor.
Long black coats.
Porcelain masks painted with the broken-crown sigil—same as the one now scarred forever into Kai's right hand.
They moved in perfect unison.
At their center walked the boy from the rooftop.
Coat open.
Silver hair tied low.
Eyes the color of fresh blood.
He stopped five meters from Kai.
Tilted his head.
And smiled like he was greeting family at the airport.
"Hello, little brother."
The words carried.
Every phone mic caught them.
The entire school heard.
Kai's head snapped up.
He had never seen this boy before in his life.
Yet something inside him—something older than memory—recognized the voice.
Ravnos went perfectly, terrifyingly still.
…Impossible.
The silver-haired boy crouched, elbows on his knees, bringing himself eye-level with Kai.
"Let me introduce myself properly."
His voice was warm, almost kind.
"I am Caelum Ren.
First Prince of the Unbroken Bloodline.
Direct descendant of the royal clan that betrayed and bound Ravnos the War Demon ten thousand years ago."
He reached out and tapped the broken-crown scar on Kai's right hand with one finger.
"And you, Kai Ren, are the last living member of the cadet branch.
My baby brother.
The one they hid."
A collective gasp rippled through the hallway.
Kai stared, mouth dry.
Caelum's smile never wavered.
"Ten thousand years ago, when the Nine Clans sealed Ravnos, they thought they killed every member of the royal line.
They were wrong.
One pregnant consort escaped.
Her blood was diluted, forgotten, buried in commoners for centuries… until it resurfaced in you."
He stood slowly.
"Mother always said the final key would be born weak.
A lamb carrying a dragon.
She was right."
Aria stepped between them, blade half-drawn.
"Back. Off."
Caelum's gaze flicked to her.
"Ah. The Mitsuki girl. Your clan helped forge the Fourth Seal, didn't they?"
He tilted his head. "Still playing jailer after all these years?"
Aria's knuckles went white on the hilt.
Caelum ignored her and looked back at Kai.
"I'm here to bring you home, little brother.
The seals are breaking.
The old war is waking.
And the Unbroken need their king."
He spread his arms.
Behind him, the five masked figures dropped to one knee in perfect synchronization.
Every mask faced Kai.
Every voice spoke as one.
"All hail the Vessel of Ravnos."
The temperature plummeted again.
Ravnos finally spoke inside Kai's mind—slow, dangerous, almost reverent.
So the whelp of my betrayers lives.
And he dares wear my crest.
Caelum's eyes narrowed, as if he heard the demon's voice.
He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper only Kai could hear.
"I know you're listening, old monster.
I'm not here to free you.
I'm here to use you.
Just like our ancestors did."
Then he straightened and spoke loud enough for the entire hallway.
"From this moment, Kai Ren is under the protection of the Unbroken Bloodline.
Anyone who touches him answers to me."
He turned to leave.
But Daiki's friends—furious, humiliated, and stupid—chose that exact second to act.
One of them, a tall third-year named Riku, stepped forward, aura flaring.
"You don't get to walk in here and—"
Caelum didn't even look.
He flicked two fingers.
The boy's knees exploded backward.
He hit the ground screaming, legs bent at impossible angles.
Caelum never broke stride.
"Anyone," he repeated calmly.
The masked figures rose and followed him out.
Silence.
Then chaos.
Phones exploded with messages.
Teachers shouted for order.
The principal's voice boomed over the intercom demanding lockdown.
Kai stayed on the floor.
Aria knelt beside him.
She grabbed his chin, forced him to meet her eyes.
"Listen to me. That boy is worse than the Arkana.
He doesn't want to kill the demon.
He wants to aim it."
Kai's voice was barely a breath.
"I don't have a brother."
Aria's grip tightened.
"You do now."
She helped him stand.
As they walked—stumbled—toward the nurse's office under the protection of three terrified teachers, Kai felt it.
The Third Seal.
Ash-Wing.
Burning between his shoulder blades like twin brands.
Waiting for the next time someone tried to put him on his knees.
Ravnos spoke, soft as a graveyard wind.
Your blood calls to mine, boy.
And mine answers with fire.
Kai closed his eyes.
He was no longer the invisible kid.
He was the center of a war that had waited ten thousand years to finish.
And somewhere in the city, church bells began to ring backward.
The Crown Prince of Ruin had come home.
And he had brought hell with him