Chapter 11: When You Are Weakest
The academy's infirmary was too quiet.
Aren Valerius Arcanveil lay on a narrow bed, white sheets pulled to his chest, the faint hum of healing arrays vibrating softly beneath the floor. The scent of medicinal herbs hung in the air, sharp and clean.
Too clean.
This is the most dangerous place I could be, Aren thought calmly.
His body was exhausted.
Not the dramatic exhaustion of collapsing on the battlefield, but the deep, treacherous kind that crept into the bones and dulled reaction time. His muscles were heavy, his mana sluggish, his sword intent fragmented.
If someone wanted me dead, he assessed dispassionately, now would be ideal.
The healer standing nearby finished adjusting the array and glanced at him.
"You're not allowed to leave," she said firmly. "Your condition requires a minimum of twelve hours of rest."
Aren nodded obediently.
"I understand."
He did.
He just didn't trust it.
Inner Thought – Strategic Vulnerability
The academy claimed neutrality.
But Aren had already learned better.
Where there was ranking, there was rivalry.
Where there was rivalry, there was elimination.
Not always through official means.
Sometimes quietly.
Efficiently.
He closed his eyes, not to sleep—but to listen.
Mana fluctuations.
Footsteps in distant corridors.
Breathing patterns beyond the walls.
Nothing yet, he noted.
But the tension remained.
Elsewhere – Infirmary Corridor (POV: Unknown)
A figure moved soundlessly through the dimly lit hallway, steps measured, presence suppressed to near nothingness.
Room seven, they thought. Third bed.
A perfect window.
The evaluation had pushed Aren too far. His mana reserves were depleted. His reflexes dulled.
No alarms would trigger.
No witnesses would notice.
A hand brushed against a concealed blade, its edge shimmering with faint toxin enchantments.
Clean. Silent. Final.
Back to Aren
The system pulsed faintly.
Aren did not open his eyes.
[World Convergence System]
Warning: Hostile Intent Detected
Threat Level: Moderate
Response Recommendation: Immediate Awareness
There it is, Aren thought.
His heartbeat remained steady.
He adjusted his breathing slightly, slowing it further, feigning deeper rest.
Let them commit.
Assassin POV – Nyx Blackthorn
Nyx Blackthorn slipped into the infirmary room without a sound.
The wards did not react.
They never did to her.
Her gaze swept the room instantly—bed, healer's desk, windows.
Empty.
Only Aren lay there, eyes closed, chest rising slowly.
Vulnerable, she assessed.
She stepped closer, blade sliding free.
One strike.
Under the ribs.
Heart.
Done.
The Moment of Impact
Nyx struck.
Aren moved.
His eyes snapped open as his body rolled sideways off the bed, the blade slicing through empty space where his chest had been a heartbeat earlier.
The bed exploded into splinters as mana surged.
Nyx twisted mid-motion, flipping backward, eyes sharp.
So he was awake.
Aren landed heavily, pain flaring through his ribs.
Damn, he thought. Slower than usual.
He forced mana through his limbs, stabilizing himself.
Nyx smiled faintly.
"Impressive," she said softly. "Most don't wake up in time."
Aren drew his sword slowly.
"You picked a bad moment."
Nyx tilted her head.
"No," she corrected. "I picked the best one."
Combat – Close Quarters
The room was too small.
Too cramped.
Nyx moved like a shadow, blade flickering in short, lethal arcs aimed not to overpower—but to bleed.
Aren blocked one strike.
Barely.
Pain screamed through his arm.
She's faster than Darius, Aren realized. And she's not wasting energy.
He retreated two steps, positioning himself between the bed remains and the wall.
Control space. Limit angles.
Nyx lunged again.
Aren parried, sparks flying as steel met enchanted blade. He felt the toxin aura scrape against his sword, numbing his fingers.
Poisoned.
Bad.
He released a short mana burst—not a spell, but a pulse—forcing Nyx back half a step.
Good. She respects mana.
Nyx's smile widened.
"A dual path," she murmured. "Interesting."
She vanished.
Not invisibility.
Speed.
Aren reacted on instinct, twisting and raising his sword just as Nyx reappeared behind him.
Steel grazed his shoulder.
Blood flowed.
Too close.
Aren gritted his teeth and slammed his foot into the floor, channeling mana downward.
The stone cracked.
The shockwave disrupted Nyx's balance.
That was his opening.
He struck.
Not aiming to kill.
Aiming to force distance.
Nyx retreated, landing lightly near the doorway.
Her gaze sharpened.
"You're dangerous," she admitted. "Even like this."
Aren breathed hard.
"So are you."
For a moment, neither moved.
Then—
Nyx smiled and stepped back through the doorway.
"This isn't over, Aren Valerius Arcanveil."
She vanished.
Alarms finally screamed.
Healers and instructors rushed in moments later.
Too late.
Aftermath
Aren sat against the wall, blood soaking his sleeve, breathing slow but controlled.
Alive, he confirmed.
Barely.
The system descended, heavy and unmistakable
[World Convergence System]
Event Resolution: Assassination Attempt Survived
Threat Identified: Nyx Blackthorn
Classification: Shadow Operative
Performance Assessment:
- Reaction Time: Degraded
- Tactical Decision-Making: Exceptional
- Survival Margin: Narrow
Stat Growth Applied:
- Battle Instinct: +1
- Mental Focus: +1
The full panel unfolded.
[World Convergence System]
Name: Aren Valerius Arcanveil
Title: Canon-Dead Extra | Assassination Survivor
Affiliation: House Arcanveil
Path:
- Magic Cultivation
- Sword Cultivation
Realm:
- Magic: Apprentice Mage (Late)
- Sword: Sword Trainee (Peak → Unstable)
Attributes:
- Strength: 17
- Speed: 16
- Stamina: 18
- Vitality: 18
- Mana: 20
- Mental Focus: 21 (+1)
Combat Stats:
- Physical Power: B-
- Mana Control: B-
- Sword Mastery: B
- Battle Instinct: A- (+1)
Skills:
- Dual Path Sovereignty (Authority · Passive)
- Mana Flow Regulation (Passive)
- Foundation Sword Forms (Advanced)
Plot Metrics:
- Plot Engagement: 38% (+5%)
- Rival Nodes: 9 (Active)
- Fate Attention: Interested → Alert
Condition:
- Laceration (Moderate)
- Poison Residue (Minor)
- Mana Reserve: 14%
System Evaluation:
- Status: Critical Survival
- Growth Quality: Extreme
- Warning: Enemies Escalating
Aren closed his eyes briefly.
So the quiet phase is over, he thought.
This was no longer academy rivalry.
This was elimination.
He opened his eyes again, gaze steady.
"Good," he whispered.
"Now I know the rules."