The aftermath of the duel hung over Obsidian Hall like a thick fog. Students whispered in corners, some clutching their training gear, others wide-eyed at the reports flowing in from Arena Omega. Kaelith and Lyra moved through the halls with careful steps. Each glance from a noble or rival sent ripples of tension along his spine.
> [Negative Points: 715]
[Lifespan Remaining: –20 Years]
Nyxion's voice purred through his mind, amused yet calculating:
> "Oh, look at them. Whispering about you, the shadow rat. They hate you, fear you, and they cannot look away. Delicious."
Kaelith ignored her. Survival was all that mattered. Lyra's small hand in his tightened ever so slightly. Her warmth was a tether in a world that had offered nothing but pain before him.
Passing the training library, Kaelith noticed a group of upper-class nobles — their eyes narrowed, lips twisted in anger. One of them, a tall blonde girl with piercing green eyes, approached him with a calculated smile.
"Kaelith Veyr," she said, voice smooth and cold. "Congratulations on… your performance."
Kaelith arched a brow. "Thanks. Is that all?"
"Not all," she said, eyes glinting. "I'm Isolde Ravenn, and I think you and I will cross paths often. The academy isn't kind to loners, especially commoners."
Kaelith remained silent, letting the warning linger. Lyra tugged gently at his sleeve. He felt her unease, but he didn't break stride.
The corridors of Obsidian Hall were a maze of black stone and silver filigree, lined with banners that shifted with the academy's magical essence. Students moved in clusters, forming alliances, exchanging gossip. The air was thick with ambition — a tangible pressure that pressed against Kaelith's ribs.
They entered their dorm wing. A few students from the arena were there, eyes wide, whispering as Kaelith and Lyra passed. Kaelith could hear snippets:
"Did you see him? Alone…"
"That dagger… it's forbidden magic…"
"Commoner… rank fifteen… bested Draven Altair?"
He stopped outside their room. Lyra peeked at him. "Do you feel it too?"
He followed her gaze. Across the courtyard, shadows moved unnaturally, almost as if they were watching. He stiffened. The flicker of the portal from last night had returned — a ripple in reality that made even the seasoned instructors uneasy.
> "Ah… curiosity," Nyxion purred. "You feel it, don't you? Something watches. Something powerful. Delicious."
Kaelith ignored her, entering the dorm. He set his dagger on the table and opened the System panel, scrolling through the shop options:
> [Potion – Minor Life: 150 NP]
[Shadow Dagger – Temporary: 200 NP]
[Escape Scroll: 500 NP]
[Lifespan Fragment – 1 Year: 750 NP]
His NP had risen to 715. Enough for a minor life potion and a shadow dagger if he chose. He noted the options for later. Survival required strategy, not impulse.
Lyra flopped onto her bed, exhausted. "Do you think… they'll hate you forever?"
Kaelith looked at her, expression unreadable. "Hate is irrelevant. Fear keeps them alive. Respect keeps you alive."
Lyra frowned. "I just… I don't want anyone to hurt you, Kaelith. You've already sacrificed so much."
He softened briefly, a flicker in his gaze. "That's why I won't let anyone near me — except you."
Her cheeks warmed. She didn't respond, but her fingers clutched his sleeve tighter.
The door to their dorm burst open. Selene Veyth stepped in, golden eyes glinting with mischief and challenge. "So, the little shadow rat survived the arena," she said, voice low. "Impressive. I wanted to see it for myself."
Kaelith didn't rise. Lyra hid slightly behind him.
"Don't think I'm here to be friendly," Selene continued. "You're a commoner. A pawn. But maybe… maybe you're more than that. I want to test it."
Kaelith studied her. "Noted."
Selene smirked and left as abruptly as she arrived, leaving a faint scent of foxfire lingering in the air.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Classes in Arcane Theory tested their understanding of mana flow, elemental hierarchies, and combat magic. Kaelith kept to the shadows, observing rivals, noting weak points, and building mental strategies for survival.
By mid-afternoon, the Combat Fundamentals class began. Instructor Varik Drel assigned teams for sparring exercises. Kaelith and Lyra were placed together — their first official partner match.
Across the training hall, whispers spread like wildfire. "Commoner pair," "Black dagger boy," "Lyra… why is she with him?"
Kaelith ignored them, focusing on the task. He had learned long ago that attention, positive or negative, was a currency — and Nyxion was already counting.
> [Sparring Match: Obsidian Hall – Partner Exercise]
Objective: Coordinate with partner to defeat opposing team.
Reward: +100 NP per victory
Punishment: -1 Year Lifespan per failure
Their opponents were two nimble noble students, adept at coordinated elemental strikes. Lyra hesitated briefly, her hands shaking. Kaelith reached out, gripping her wrist.
"Focus. We win, or we die. Not literally, but close enough," he said.
Lyra nodded. Kaelith guided her through positioning, predicting enemy movements. When the nobles attacked, he countered, slipping through attacks like a shadow and redirecting Lyra's strikes with precise timing.
> "Not bad, little pawn," Nyxion whispered. "Teaching her? I like this. You may survive today."
The duel escalated quickly. Kaelith anticipated their magic, dodging fire arcs and wind blades while Lyra countered using techniques he'd silently taught her. Their synchronization, though rough, left their opponents frustrated and exposed.
Kaelith struck with the Shadow Dagger, piercing one noble's flank. Lyra delivered a precise strike to the other, sending both sprawling. The hall erupted with gasps and whispers.
Instructor Varik's eyes flicked over them. "Well… that was unexpected." His tone was neutral, but Kaelith sensed the edge. Recognition. Respect — begrudging, but respect.
As the pair exited the hall, exhausted and exhilarated, Kaelith glanced at Lyra. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair tousled. "We… we did it," she breathed.
"Yes," he said softly. "For now."
The sun dipped toward the horizon. Shadows stretched across the spires of Aetherion. Far above, a faint portal shimmered once more, almost imperceptible. Kaelith froze mid-step, sensing it. Something beyond the world was observing, patient, waiting for the right moment to intervene.
Nyxion's voice hummed low, a sibilant thrill.
> "Ah… your true trials are only beginning. The board is watching, the pieces are moving, and you… little pawn, you are in the middle of it all."
Kaelith didn't respond. He didn't need to. Survival, power, and Lyra's safety consumed his thoughts. The portal's flicker disappeared, leaving only the whispering shadows and the tension of the academy's next move.
And Kaelith knew — every lesson, every duel, every alliance or betrayal would bring him closer to the one thing he sought above all else: the power to save his sister and face the world that had destroyed him.
The corridors of Obsidian Hall were silent now, but the shadows lingered. Watching. Waiting.
Kaelith's hand brushed over the Shadow Dagger. He felt the weight of every year burned, every point earned, every enemy watching him silently. And somewhere, beyond the bounds of the academy, something enormous stirred.
The game had only just begun.