The words settled over the group like an uncomfortable draft of cold air.
James stiffened.
Not visibly at first. It was subtle the way his shoulders squared, the way his jaw tightened just a fraction too long before he forced it to relax. He kept his gaze forward, but his fingers, resting on his knee, curled inward slightly.
"You don't know that," he said, a little too quickly. "She was registering for the exam. There were hundreds of people there. Forms, instructors, announcements… her mind was probably occupied."
Michael raised a single brow.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
"'My name is James,'" Michael quoted dryly, mimicking James' tone from that day.
He popped another candy into his mouth.
"Sounds like a first introduction to me."
The redhead snorted.
Brown Hair nodded thoughtfully. "It did feel… introductory."
James opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
Nothing came out.
His ears had turned red.
"That's not the point," he muttered at last.
Redhead leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. For once, his expression wasn't teasing, it was curious…almost.
"Then what is?"
James looked down at his hands.
"The point," he said slowly, carefully choosing each word, "is that if the schools are merging… if they're opening the field like this… then…"
He lifted his hands as if trying to physically pull the right explanation from the air.
"Then…" he tried again.
Nothing.
His thoughts felt clear in his head but refused to form into something that didn't sound ridiculous out loud.
"Oh goodness," he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You know what? I'm going to my spa session. I'm not entertaining you guys."
Michael leaned back with a grin. "Translation: I'm retreating with dignity."
"Self-care is important," James shot back defensively.
Redhead smirked. "So is self-awareness."
Brown Hair watched him quietly. He knew James well enough to see through the dramatics.
"You're nervous," Brown Hair said calmly.
James paused mid-step.
"…I am not."
"You are."
"I am not."
"You shrieked earlier."
"That was a vocal malfunction."
Michael burst out laughing.
James glared at them all before straightening his vest and exhaling slowly.
Brown Hair leaned back. "You're not trying to impress her with clothes."
James gave him a look.
"That's… slightly less pathetic than I expected." He continued
Redhead nodded. "Marginally."
James rolled his eyes. "Your emotional support is overwhelming."
Michael pointed at him. "But let's be clear. Buying out a boutique is still dramatic."
James glanced at the brochure still lying on the glass table.
Luxurious fabrics. Tailored cuts. Subtle defensive enhancements woven into everyday wear.
It wasn't really about fashion.
It was armor.
Different kind.
"Pack everything," he told the attendant firmly.
The attendant bowed again. "Yes, sir."
All three of his friends groaned in perfect unison.
"You're still buying it?" Brown Hair asked incredulously.
James stood, adjusting his cuffs with deliberate calm.
"Absolutely."
Michael shook his head slowly. "Hopeless."
Redhead crossed his arms. "You do realize if she truly doesn't remember you, this entire internal monologue of yours is one-sided."
James paused.
Just briefly.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Then I'll introduce myself properly."
Michael blinked. "Again?"
James shrugged. "If necessary."
Brown Hair studied him carefully. "And if she still doesn't care?"
James considered that.
The boutique lights reflected in the mirrors around them, multiplying his image into a dozen versions, each polished, composed, well-dressed.
He thought about the girl they were talking about.
The way her expression hadn't changed, and how nicer she looks now.
He inhaled slowly.
"Then at least," he said, voice steady now, "I won't regret not trying."
That silenced them more effectively than any argument.
Michael looked away first, pretending to inspect a jacket on display.
Redhead muttered something about dramatic protagonists.
Brown Hair simply nodded once then shrugged.
James picked up the brochure and handed it properly to the attendant this time.
"Deliver everything before resumption,"
"Yes, sir."
James checked the time again.
"I really am going to the spa," he said. "Stress management. Skin hydration. Mental clarity."
Michael snorted. "Manifesting visibility?"
"Exactly," James replied without missing a beat.
As he walked toward the exit, Brown Hair called after him.
"You know this semester won't just be about her, right?"
James stopped near the door.
"I know."
Rumors had been swirling nonstop.
Beast activity increasing.
Political alliances shifting.
Academies merging too quickly.
Nothing in their world happened without purpose.
He understood that.
But even in the middle of shifting power structures and uncertain futures…
Some motivations were simpler.
He glanced back at his friends.
"See you at orientation," he said.
Michael saluted lazily. "Try not to faint if she says your name."
James scoffed.
But as he stepped out of the boutique and into the glowing city evening, he allowed himself one quiet hope.
If the schools were merging…
If the field was truly opening…
Then maybe, Just maybe..
The next time he said, "My name is James,"
She would remember it.
Deep within the forest, the trees grew unnaturally large, their trunks thick and ancient, their branches stretching high enough to swallow the sky whole. Massive leaves overlapped like layered shields, blocking out nearly all sunlight. What little light managed to slip through filtered down in thin, ghostly beams that barely reached the damp forest floor.
The ground was moist and heavy, layered with years of decay. The air carried the thick, gamey scent of wild beasts.
And yet,
There were no sounds.
No birds.
No insects.
No distant growls.
For a forest this dense, this alive with vegetation, the silence was wrong.
Moving carefully between the colossal trunks were six women dressed in fitted combat gear. Their clothing was practical, dark, close to the body, designed for speed and silence. Each of them carried a restrained aura.
They had one purpose.
Find the body.
Their master had been clear. Scarlett's corpse was to be located and confirmed. If she was truly dead, proof was required. If she was alive… that was a different matter entirely, which will be concluded on if she shows up at the exams
"We split here," the leader ordered in a low voice. "Check every direction. Don't assume anything."
They fanned out efficiently, scanning the forest floor for signs of disturbance. Broken branches. Drag marks. Blood traces. Signs of struggle.
"There were reports of an explosion of fire mana in this region," one of them murmured.
"And nothing since," another replied. "If she died, beasts would've left something behind."
Unless, of course, something stronger had claimed the body first.
Minutes stretched.
The deeper they moved, the more uneasy they became.
"It's too quiet," one of the women muttered.
The leader didn't respond, but her hand remained close to the hilt of her weapon.
Then a voice cut through the silence.
"There's a cave here!"
The others converged immediately.
The cave entrance was partially obscured by hanging moss and creeping vines, set into the side of a low hill. It wasn't deeply hidden. In fact, it looked almost conveniently placed like a shelter someone injured might crawl into.
The leader studied it carefully.
"No obvious defensive arrays," one of the scouts reported after a brief scan.
"No fresh tracks," another added.
Still, something about it made the air feel heavier.
"She could have crawled inside," someone said quietly.
The possibility tightened the mood.
If Scarlett had survived her injuries, even barely, this would be the kind of place she might retreat to.
"We check," the leader decided.
They entered in formation.
The temperature inside dropped slightly. The cave interior was dry, surprisingly so, given the dampness outside. The floor was stone, firm and relatively clean.
Too clean.
They spread out, inspecting corners and walls.
"No blood."
"No scorch marks."
"No scent."
The leader walked slowly to the center, eyes scanning every inch.
If Scarlett had died here, there would be residue. Fire cultivators left traces like burned stone, lingering heat, disrupted mana patterns.
There was nothing.
"It's empty," one of the women concluded. "She's not here."
"Then we move," the leader said. "We check somewhere else."
They turned toward the exit.
And that was when the cave lit up.
A thin line of light traced across the ground beneath their feet.
One of the women froze.
"Wa…it"
The light exploded into full brilliance.
Lines of blinding energy crisscrossed the cave in a precise, intricate pattern, so fast it looked like lightning frozen into geometry.
There was no time to react.
No time to shield.
No time to scream.
The lines passed through them effortlessly.
For one suspended heartbeat, everything went still.
Their bodies separated cleanly, sliced into uniform chunks as though carved by an invisible blade wielded by a master butcher. Flesh, bone, and armor parted without resistance, blood spread rapidly across the stone.
And beneath it, the cave floor glowed, revealing a massive rune carved into the stone one so complex it seemed layered atop itself, circles within circles, lines feeding into symbols that twisted in ways that made the eyes ache, intricate and deeply ominous.
The rune pulsed.
A red mist began to seep from its glowing lines.
It rolled low along the ground, thick and hungry.
When it touched the scattered remains, It dissolves the scattered flesh
Muscle softened and unraveled. Bone liquefied. Skin broke down into dark fluid as if consumed by something unseen.
Within moments, there were no bodies left, Only blood.
It moved, drawn along narrow grooves in the stone that had been invisible until now, it streamed toward the deepest corner of the cave.
There, half-hidden in shadow, grew a plant.
Its stem was black and twisted, veined faintly with red light. At its top rested a tightly closed bud the color of dried blood. It did not look natural. It did not look like something that belonged to this forest.
The blood reached its roots.
The plant trembled.
The bud pulsed once.
Then again.
Slowly, almost lovingly, the petals loosened a fraction, as if fed.
The rune dimmed gradually, its glow fading until the cave looked ordinary again.
Dry, empty and harmless.
Outside, the forest remained silent.
The women who had come searching for a body, had instead stumbled onto something entirely different.