The Obsidian Circle was not born from idealism or justice.
It was born from blood and hierarchy.
Twenty-three years ago, during the second generation of the academy's history, a group of elite students from the most powerful legacy families grew tired of the chaotic "survival of the fittest" philosophy the university openly encouraged. They believed the strong should not merely survive — they should rule. They should decide who rises and who is crushed beneath their heel.
They called themselves the Obsidian Circle.
The name came from the black volcanic glass — sharp enough to cut through steel, unbreakable under pressure, and formed only under extreme heat and time. Their emblem was a single obsidian shard wrapped in silver chains, a symbol that the strong bind the weak.
They recruited only the ruthless.
Only the talented.
Only those willing to prove their loyalty by breaking someone weaker in front of the entire faction.
Henry had risen to vice master through sheer brutality. Tales of how he had once forced a rival faction's leader to eat his own severed finger while still alive still circulated in hushed tones among seniors. He was not kind. He was not fair. He was efficient.
And he answered only to one bloodline.
The Vanderbilts.
Because the current leader of the Obsidian Circle — a final-year named Cedric — was the son of a high-ranking Apex Vanguard officer. The faction had always maintained deep ties to the guild, using their influence to protect their members and crush threats.
When James Vanderbilt personally messaged them to "do whatever Lucas wants," the entire faction moved without question.
That was why Henry and his men had bowed so deeply to a first-year.
That was why they now stood guard over a random girl and three broken bullies without hesitation.
**
Yuna felt the change before she could name it.
The crushing fear and burning shame that had choked her only moments ago began to dissolve, replaced by a strange, dark warmth that spread through her veins like liquid fire.
It wasn't overwhelming power — she was still far from her current rank — but it felt like the edge of something vast and hungry waiting just beneath her skin. Her body no longer trembled with terror alone. There was a new steadiness, a quiet confidence that made her stand a little straighter even as tears still clung to her lashes.
She looked up at Lucas as he laughed — low, dark, satisfied. Who the hell is he? The thought surfaced clearly for the first time. This wasn't some random first-year stepping in to play hero.
The way the Obsidian Circle bowed to him, the way even the cocky William had crumbled… he was something far more dangerous.
William and his two friends remained on their knees, faces pale, not daring to make a sound. They didn't understand what Lucas was doing, but they knew enough not to provoke him further.
Lucas exhaled slowly, the quest completion still glowing in his vision. He turned toward the terrified bullies, lit another cigarette, and walked forward with casual steps. He crouched down in front of William, bringing them eye to eye.
"It's a shame I can't kill you with everyone present here," Lucas said softly, almost pitying. "I could try to sneak it later, but with this many eyes… You can never guess what a human mind will do."
He exhaled a thick plume of smoke directly into William's face.
"Anyway, I promised my new companion I would make you pay. So which hand and leg do you lot want to lose?"
Yuna stood up on shaky legs. She had changed into spare clothes from her spatial ring — a plain academy blouse and skirt that still clung to her full figure. Her eyes were vacant, almost hollow, as she walked toward Lucas. The new power from the contract pulsed inside her, steady and dark.
William's jaw trembled with a mix of fury and terror. He was C-rank. Killing Lucas should have been nothing. But the Vanderbilt name, the Obsidian Circle standing behind him like silent executioners, and the memory of that abyssal field made his blood run cold.
"Young master, please think about this," William begged, voice cracking. "We don't trouble you… All we did was drag a low-life here. Please leave us alone."
Lucas didn't even look at him. He simply took another drag.
William's fear twisted into desperate anger. He let a little of his C-rank aura leak out.
"You should leave us alone," he snarled. "We are not some strays. I'm a core member of the Brotherhood faction—"
Lucas chuckled, cutting him off.
"So what?"
William stumbled over his own words.
Lucas flicked the cigarette butt at William's face. It bounced off his forehead with a tiny hiss.
"Do you think your faction will care enough to mess with me over low-lives like you?" Lucas asked calmly. "They won't."
He glanced at Henry.
"Hold them still."
Henry nodded without question. He didn't order his lackeys — he stepped forward himself, silver eyes cold and amused.
William paled even further. He realized there was no escape. He didn't wait for the inevitable. With a burst of desperate speed, he lunged sideways, feet slamming against the concrete — THUD — trying to blur past the Obsidian Circle.
Henry didn't move immediately. A manic grin spread across his face. He enjoyed giving prey the illusion of hope.
William's heart pounded. He looked back — Henry was still standing in the same spot. Relief flooded him for half a second.
Then another Henry appeared directly in front of him — a perfect doppelganger.
BOOM!
The punch landed like a cannon shot. William flew backward through the air, blood spraying from his mouth, and crashed hard into the ground right in front of his original position — THUD.
Henry stood over him, still grinning.
"He is neutralized, Young Master."
Lucas summoned his greatsword. The massive blade hit the floor with a heavy clang. He pointed the tip toward Yuna.
"Go cut his hand off."
Yuna looked at the sword, then at William. The new strength from the contract surged through her. She took the hilt with both hands, dragged the heavy weapon toward the broken bully, and stopped in front of him.
Henry kept one boot planted firmly on William's chest, pinning him down.
William's friends started begging incoherently, voices cracking.
The Obsidian Circle members watched with open interest, some chuckling darkly.
Yuna stood over William, eyes burning. She spat, "You have two choices. One — be a man and don't cry when I cut your hand off. Two — be a coward like you are and beg me not to. Either way… I will cut it off."
William coughed up more blood, eyes wide with terror.
"You bitch… you dare—"
Yuna gritted her teeth.
"Yes. I dare, motherfucker."
She lifted the greatsword with every ounce of strength she had — WHSSS — and brought it down in a savage arc.
SLICHH—!
William's scream tore through the alcove like a dying animal.
"GAAAAAHHHHHHHH—!!!"
His right hand separated cleanly at the wrist, blood spraying in a wide arc across the concrete. He thrashed under Henry's boot, tears and saliva mixing with the blood on his face, body convulsing in agony.
"AAAAAHHH—! MY HAND—! MY FUCKING HAND—!"
Yuna stood over him, breathing hard, the sword still dripping.
Lucas turned to the other two bullies, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
"Now… what should I punish you with?" he asked out loud, voice casual.
The two bullies immediately started begging, claiming they had only followed William.
One of the Obsidian Circle members — a fat man with a crazy beard and wild eyes — raised his hand eagerly.
"Young Master, can I suggest something?"
Lucas glanced at him, inwardly wincing at the man's ugly, leering face, but nodded.
The fatty smiled disgustingly, eyes gleaming as he looked at the terrified bullies.
"How about I rape them to teach a lesson?"
His friends beside him wanted to scoff — 'Lesson my foot...You want to rape them, you disgusting pig,' — but they stayed silent.
Lucas blinked, clearly taken aback by the suggestion. Fuck… this university is more terrifying than I thought. But he simply shrugged.
"They are all yours, fatty."
The fatty smirked, his heavy body moving toward the two screaming bullies with disturbing enthusiasm.
The bullies shrieked and tried to drag their paralyzed bodies away, begging incoherently.
Lucas put his jacket back on and turned to Henry.
"Thank you for the help. I'll contact you again."
Every member of the Obsidian Circle bent at the waist in unison.
"We will wait for your orders, Young Master."
Lucas nodded once and walked away, Yuna falling into step behind him, still clutching the bloodied greatsword.
Soon, blood-curdling wails echoed through the hidden alcove as the fatty began his work.