The forest hung still, unnaturally quiet.
Zeke stood before the two bound prisoners, eyes shadowed by his bangs. For a moment, he didn't speak—just stared off into the treeline. His silence stretched, making the nearby students shift uncomfortably, the earlier tension thickening again. Then he turned his back to the prisoners.
One of them let out a breath, a sharp exhale of relief.
Whack.
Darius smacked the prisoner upside the head. "Who said you could relax? Stay still."
The students nearby snickered, but it was a humorless sound—tense, strained. Even the trees seemed to lean in, listening.
Zeke's gaze swept the forest like a blade. He wasn't just looking—he was sensing. The magic in the air trembled, responding to his attention. Students turned their eyes toward the shadows between the trees, their unease growing. Something was watching. Something more.
Among the hidden executioners, cloaked in spectral shade and illusion, a few flinched.
"No… I think he knows we're here," one whispered. His voice was little more than a breeze. "Let's wait for the order. Don't move unless the captain says."
Another shadow leaned forward. "Look at the way he's commanding them. These aren't students. They're a goddamn unit."
Back in the clearing, Zeke's voice snapped out like thunder.
"Weapons ready. Form two rings around the prisoners—long-range and weaker fighters on the inside. Stay clear of the treeline."
The students moved instantly, as if the words had flipped a switch. They no longer hesitated around Zeke; they obeyed without question. In the span of moments, a defensive circle had formed—fluid and tight. Movement rustled like wind through leaves as blades and staves were drawn, bows notched, spells prepped.
Zeke turned his head slowly, eyes burning with intensity.
"Mages."
A row of students clad in mage cloaks stood taller.
"If anything moves, burns it. Even if it's just a shadow. Even if it's just the wind shifting the leaves. Do you understand me?"
The mages froze under his gaze. His voice wasn't loud—but it carried power. Power that settled into the bones.
One by one, they nodded.
Then Zeke returned to the prisoners.
"How many of you are there?"
Silence.
The students tensed. Not because of the question—but because they understood what it implied.
There were more.
There were enemies already here. Watching.
And they hadn't even noticed.
That realization sent a cold shiver through them.
Zeke raised his blade, its surface catching the flicker of firelight from nearby torches.
"If you're not going to reply… then you have no use."
He stepped forward. The blade lifted.
One of the prisoners cracked.
"T-Tala!"
Zeke froze. The name hit him like a hammer.
From the second ring, Kaito's voice rang out like a growl as he broke formation.
"What did you say?!"
He stormed over, eyes wide with fury. The prisoners backed away instinctively, chained or not.
"She was with us—but she left! She said something about the academy and disappeared! She—she's your sister, right?! And you—"
He looked at Kaito.
"You're her boyfriend or something, right?!"
Zeke blinked.
"Wha—?"
Kaito was already stomping forward, drawing his blade.
"Shut the hell up! There's no way she'd be with trash like you. Don't say her name with your mouth."
His magic surged, blade glowing.
Zeke's hand shot out, catching Kaito by the arm.
"Kaito. Step back. They might know something."
Kaito didn't move.
"Kaito," Zeke said again, his tone sharp. "If you keep this up, I will punch you. For real this time."
Kaito faltered.
"Tch… whatever."
He sheathed his blade and stepped back, arms folded, but his eyes never left the prisoners.
Zeke turned again. His footfalls slow. Measured.
He stepped right up to the mouthier prisoner and—
Slap.
A crisp, brutal sound.
The forest hushed.
Zeke stood with his arm trembling slightly. His voice came out quieter—tinged with disbelief, and irritation.
"Why the hell would I have a girlfriend?"
There was a pause.
Then chuckles broke out from nearby students. Even some of the professors watching above smiled.
But the mirth didn't last. Zeke's face was still hard as stone. His bloodied finger from earlier was still faintly red where the knife had touched him.
He looked at the two shadows before him. Eyes colder than before.
"You're going to tell me where she went. Who sent you. How many more are in these woods. Or…"
His blade dipped forward again.
The prisoners squirmed.
Above, high in the arcane veil where professors watched from a floating vantage point, the silence was thick.
Professor Lira frowned. "This isn't a just a group of students anymore—it's a militia."
The Headmaster's expression didn't change.
Silence fell.
Back on the ground, as the tension hung over the group like a storm about to break, Zeke took one final breath.
He looked at the tree line.
Then, in a voice that rolled like thunder, echoing through the trunks and into the darkened edges of the forest, he spoke:
"Come out now… or we'll burn you out."
The forest shuddered.
Leaves rustled.
The flames flickered.
And deep in the shadowed treeline… something stirred.