For a heartbeat no one moved.
Then they stepped through.
The demon followers.
Hoods over their faces, weapons in their hands, an aura around them that made the air colder.
It pressed on every chest in the arena like a weight.
Screams broke the silence.
The stands erupted in panic as people shoved one another, climbing, pushing, trampling whoever was in the way.
Down on the arena floor, students reacted in their own ways.
Some froze where they stood.
Others shook, too scared to move.
But a few the ones who always talked about becoming heroes stepped forward.
"For the academy!" a third-year shouted. His sword shook in his hand, his voice cracked but he charged.
He never reached them.
A shadow moved faster than his eyes could track.
A blade of pure black cut through his chest.
He looked down at it with wide eyes, confusion plain on his face, then collapsed. His sword fell beside him. He didn't rise again.
The crowd gasped.
