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Chapter 4 - Chapter 004: Measured Steps

The training fields were red with dusk.

Not blood. Not yet.

But the light falling through the academy's spires stained the cobblestone in quiet promise.

Nclai stood alone on the outer ring of the southern coliseum. His coat caught the wind just enough to sway. His name hadn't been called for training. Not for sparring. Not for bloodline assessment.

He had been placed under Observation Tier.

A polite sentence. A silent punishment.

The others ran drills on elevated platforms... flashes of crimson blades, ripple bursts of blood-surge arts, even one arrogant display of inherited wing flare.

They screamed skill names louder than they hit.

He remained where he was, one hand behind his back, the other tucked into the folds of his coat. Watching. Always watching.

...

"You there. Azrael."

The voice was sharp, nasal. A senior student.

Nclai didn't answer.

A boy with silvery armor and a noble's insignia stepped up to him. House Therin.

"Didn't even get a tier, right?"

The boy's grin was wide, hungry. "Figures they'd assign a ghost to Observation. Don't blink, or you might miss the talent."

A few others nearby snickered.

Nclai's eyes didn't move.

Rael stepped closer. "Careful now. Standing too still might scare the blood out of the fledglings."

Still nothing.

For a breath, it almost looked like Rael would strike him. He raised a palm, just slightly. Enough to ignite his aura with a flicker of bloodlight.

But Nclai simply looked at him.

Not threateningly. Not dismissively.

Just... looked.

Something in that gaze stole the momentum from Rael's gesture. The air between them folded, heavy and quiet.

Rael scoffed. "You're not even worth a swing."

He turned, too fast.

The others followed, laughing again... but nervously now.

Nclai didn't smile.

But his fingers flexed once in his coat.

...

The instructors were watching from the shaded balconies above. One leaned toward another.

"No output. No surge. Nothing measurable."

"And yet the Therin heir backed down."

"Hm."

...

Later, when the sun had fallen halfway behind the walls, a group of younger students began a trial duel. An overexcited hybrid misjudged a step, pulled too much power, and staggered backward. His opponent, already mid-attack, couldn't stop in time.

The blood ripple burst forward, uncontrolled.

Before anyone could shout...

Nclai's eyes narrowed.

A pulse.

Not from him. But through him.

A flicker of something pressed against his skin, like a breeze beneath the surface of his blood. Faint. Precise. Instinctive.

Then the system stirred.

...

[Passive Trait: Blood Sensitivity Lv.1]

Mastery: 1.2%

Observation Strength: Slightly Improved

...

The boy collapsed onto the ground, barely dodging the burst.

No one noticed Nclai watching from the shadows of the ring.

No one saw his breath slow.

He hadn't moved.

Hadn't needed to.

...

As the coliseum emptied, Lyra found him near the obsidian railing. Her steps were quiet, but purposeful.

"They're talking," she said.

"I know."

"They think the instructors are ignoring you on purpose."

"They are."

A pause.

She studied his profile in the low light.

"You're going to keep letting them provoke you?"

He said nothing.

"You could end it. With a word. With a step."

Still silence.

She exhaled. "You don't want them to fear you?"

"I do," he said.

Then added, "But not yet."

...

Far above, a senior instructor crossed his arms behind his back.

"The boy," he said quietly. "He feels like... something waiting to happen."

Another nodded slowly.

"We'll keep him under Observation."

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes."

...

Nclai left the coliseum in silence.

He didn't look back.

But beneath the skin of his hand,

the mark had begun to pulse again.

Slow.

And steady.

...

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