The sun stood high and merciless when the alarm bell rang through the academy—sharp, metallic, impossible to ignore. Shadows pooled at the edges of the courtyard even in daylight, an omen that made the hairs on Kaito's forearms stand up.
"To arms!" the Headmaster's voice boomed. The Circle snapped into formation without a word.
This time, the sky opened not with a trickle of creatures but with a storm. Larger Shadowspawn fell like dark rain, grotesque and fast, slamming into the outer walls and smashing through the ceremonial gates. Their numbers were greater than before, and their hunger felt deliberate.
Kaito tightened the blue wraps along his spear. The charms at the head chimed once—soft, a small private rhythm—and he felt steadier for it. He didn't let the flame stir. He would not let it be seen. Not today.
Daxen barked orders. "Hold the courtyard! Push them back toward the eastern gate—the wards there will slow them!"
Ryo answered the shout with a roar and launched like a living bomb, two hulking predators crumpling beneath his golden fists. Mira's lightning lanced through the air, carving channels of stunned smoke, while Jin's frost rendered the stone slick and treacherous beneath the invaders' feet. Elara wrenched roots up from the earth, ensnaring legs and dragging foes down into thorn and dirt. Liora's mental command rippled through several attackers, making them hesitate—just long enough for a blade to find a seam.
Kaito moved like water through the chaos. The new spearhead bit first—clean, surgical—skewering through a ribcage and throwing a creature backward into a pool of cooling blood. He twisted, the blades kissing one another as if the spear were made to sing.
When one beast lunged at Aria from above, Kaito triggered the chain-hook. The chain whipped out, caught the creature's wrist, and jerked it off balance; he spun the shaft and used the hook to pull it down, then slammed the weighted endcap into its skull. The sound was hollow, final.
"Nice play!" Ryo shouted as he rebounded off a shattered column.
Kaito gave no grin. He kept moving. Fast footwork, careful angling—strikes that didn't simply kill, but left no chance for recovery. He used the spear's different heads like a surgeon changing instruments: the hook to trip and pull, the blunt cap to stun and finish, the double-edged blade to penetrate and open. Each swap was a blink; each motion spoke of practice burned into muscle memory.
The blue wraps around the shaft soaked with sweat where his hands clung tight. The charms chimed with every rotation, a sound oddly human amid the screams of the dying. He led a line of attackers toward the eastern gate where the Headmaster had called for them to be funneled. Jin and Mira laid down a shifting lattice of ice and lightning; Elara's roots formed a jagged corridor; Daxen's shadows rose as a living barricade. The Shadowspawn funneled, collided—and broke.
But the swarm was endless. For every ten they felled, five more leaked through the gaps. A great maw of a thing, larger than the others and wrapped in thicker shadow, surged up the center column of attackers and bore down on Kaito and Aria.
Aria darted forward, daggers flashing. The creature twisted, jaws snapping. She barely dodged—then Kaito was there, spear blurring. He engaged the hook, latched it into the beast's shoulder, and with a violent wrench toppled it forward. The creature hit the stone with a thud that shook the courtyard. Kaito pivoted on the shaft, drove the blade between ribs exposed by Aria's cut, and levered the body until the head came away in a wash of smoke.
As the monster fell, a jolt of heat surged through Kaito's chest—sharp, searing, like fire clawing beneath his skin. His grip trembled on the spear shaft as warmth bled through the blue wraps, threatening to ignite.
No. Not now.
He forced a steady breath, locking the power away, shoving the fire back down where no one could see. Around him, the battle raged on. None of the Circle noticed. Only Aria's gaze lingered on him, sharp and questioning, but she said nothing.
They had a sliver of breathing room. The Circle lined up, panting, already bleeding, but still together.
"Kaito!" Daxen shouted through the chorus of battle. "Hold that line. Don't let them flank!"
He did. He planted the spear, planted his feet. A wave of smaller, faster Shadowspawn streamed toward the eastern flank. Kaito met them with the blunt endcap to parry, then spun into a devastating half-moon cut with the double-edged head that cleaved one monster into two collapsing forms. He hooked a tiny pair of attackers together and dragged them into Jin's freezing blast. The choreography of their powers and his weapon turned the tide inch by agonizing inch.