The council chamber was tense, every elder's gaze fixed on Samael. One of them finally spoke, his voice sharp as a blade.
"Master Lucerne, do you understand that taking in new amateurs while the academy is already under scrutiny will destroy what little image we still hold? If the people turn against us, the government will swoop in and take control entirely."
Samael did not flinch. His tone was steady, but fire lingered beneath his words, "I do understand the risk. But if we neglect young resonants, the government will seize them first—and turn them into nothing more than obedient weapons."
Another elder slammed his hand on the table. "So you would endanger the academy—for one boy?!"
"If both paths lead to losing my students, then I will choose the one where I can fight to protect them."
Gasps and mutters rippled across the room. The eldest among them leaned forward, his voice trembling with disbelief. "This is madness! You would stand against the nation itself—for a handful of untrained youngsters?"
Samael's eyes hardened, his words falling like a vow. "If it comes to that... without hesitation."
The chamber erupted into murmurs the moment Samael finished speaking. The elders leaned toward each other, whispering arguments, shaking their heads, debating in hushed tones. Their distrust filled the room like smoke.
Then, without warning, the heavy doors creaked open and a young man in the dark uniform of the surveillance corps stumbled inside. His breath was ragged, sweat beading his forehead. The whispers died instantly.
"Master Lucerne…" he panted, bowing quickly before blurting, "A Grade Three Death's Child has been sighted at the edge of town."
The elders stirred, some muttering prayers under their breath. Samael, however, remained unnervingly calm.
"Well," he said casually, almost dismissive, "it's not that big of a deal. The Beastfang Academy can handle a Grade Three without issue. Considering they are closer to the threat than us"
The man swallowed hard. "The Beastfang Academy… is on a month's vacation. That leaves only us."
Samael's eyes flickered with interest. Perhaps fate has a strange sense of timing. He considered the boy—the new resonant the council was so afraid of taking in. This could be the opportunity to show Mark what resonance truly was, not just in theory, but in the chaos of reality.
Before he could voice it, the informant's voice cracked again, this time sharper, almost trembling. "There's… more. An hour ago, the beast was confirmed as a Grade Three. But it has since evolved. It is now a Grade Four. Which means…" His throat tightened. "…it has been lurking in our world far longer than we realized."
"You should have started with that!!"
The weight of those words dropped over the council chamber like a stone into still water. The elders stiffened, horror widening their eyes.
Samael was already on his feet, his coat swaying as he turned toward the door. His voice was clipped, urgent now.
"Caris," he ordered without looking back, "fetch Selena, Mark, and Alden. Bring them to the site immediately. If the boy is to learn, he will learn in the fire of reality."
Caris bowed, still pale, and darted off as Samael rushed out of the chamber. The elders sat frozen in silence, their arguments swallowed whole by the looming shadow of the anomaly's rapid evolution.
Samael ran down the empty corridor, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls. Thoughts filling up his mind.
If this threat isn't eliminated quickly, it'll evolve again. To Grade Five…He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. At that point, the collateral damage won't just scar the outskirts—it will bury the town in blood and rubble.
His pace quickened. Time was thinning.
Meanwhile, across the dormitory halls—
Caris pushed open the creaking door to Mark's room. The boy was slumped sideways on a chair near his desk, a thin blanket draped over him. His head jerked up groggily at Caris's voice.
"Mark. Get up. Now."
Blinking, Mark rubbed his eyes and glanced at the empty bed. He froze. The girl's gone. But the blanket covering him—he hadn't put it there.
"Wait," he muttered, standing quickly. "That drunk girl from before… who was she?"
Caris was already turning. "Probably Selena. A transfer from Beastfang Academy. You'll meet her soon."
The words lit a spark in Mark's chest. Today was his first step into training. He scrambled to get ready, tugging on a pair of blue jeans and a black jacket, his excitement bleeding through his movements.
Minutes later, Caris gathered them in the courtyard.
Mark—plain, unarmed, his jacket loose against the night breeze.Selena—her olive cargo jeans and fitted black top making her look ready for combat, her hands wrapped with steel-knuckled weapons. Her eyes flicked toward Mark for the briefest second, her cheeks coloring at the memory of last night.Alden—tall, muscular, a headband keeping his long hair out of his eyes, a scar across his neck. He rested a spear with a strange, curved blade against his shoulder. His white shirt and short jacket makes him look equal parts rugged and sharp.
Caris began drawing symbols into the ground with chalk, the lines of the teleportation circle sparking faintly as they connected.
Selena glanced again at Mark, then quickly looked away, flustered.
Mark caught it and smiled. "It's alright."
Her fist smacked the back of his head instantly. "Shut up."
Mark laughed softly, rubbing his scalp.
Alden stepped forward, tilting his head at the newcomer. "So you're the new guy, huh?" His voice carried some weight. "Tell me—do you prefer butts or boobs?"
Mark choked, caught completely off guard.
"ALDEN!" Selena's roar cracked through the air as her knuckles slammed against his head. "I SAID SHUT THE HELL UP!"
Alden winced, grinning sheepishly as he rubbed the sore spot.
Caris ignored the squabble, finishing the final strokes of the circle. He stepped into its center and clapped his hands together.
The runes flared to life—blinding light consuming the group.
And in the next instant, they were gone.
The light of the teleportation circle faded, and the four of them found themselves on the edge of town. Dust swirled in the night air, carrying the faint stench of rot and something darker.
Samael was already there, standing off to the side with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes fixed ahead. The sternness in his face was unlike anything Mark had seen before.
Mark's gaze followed Samael's—and his breath caught.
The streets behind were cordoned off with bright yellow banners marked DO NOT CROSS. Dozens of men in full military gear moved with rigid precision, rifles strapped, armor gleaming under floodlights. Heavy trucks and barricades has sealed off the area entirely.
Mark whispered under his breath, wide-eyed, "What… who are all these people?"
Selena's brow furrowed, her lips pulling into a scowl. "Government troops," she muttered. Her fists clenched around her knuckle weapons, the sharp edges gleaming faintly. "Perfect. That means we're stuck here doing nothing while they strut around."
Mark stepped closer to Samael, confusion painted across his face. "Master Lucerne… what's happening? I thought we were supposed to fight."
Samael's eyes didn't move from the barricades. His voice was calm but carried a weight that pressed down on Mark's chest.
"The government took an interest in this incident," he said. "Unexpectedly. They rarely dirty their hands with local threats… but tonight is different. For reasons I don't yet understand."
His arms tightened across his chest, his jaw clenching.
"And that means," Samael continued, his tone colder now, "we can't interfere. Not here. Not now. Our role is reduced to watching from the sidelines."
Selena let out a sharp, frustrated breath, muttering a curse under her breath. Alden moved looking disappointed, resting his spear against his shoulder.
Mark stared past the barricades at the soldiers assembling, his stomach twisting. If even the government's involved… what kind of monster are we really dealing with?
A soldier's voice broke the tense silence."The hunt is complete."
Selena groaned. "Seriously? That's it? No action, no fight, nothing?" She kicked at a loose pebble, irritation flashing in her golden eyes.
Alden ignored her and walked toward Mark, his boots crunching on the gravel. His expression was calm, but his tone dripped with cold amusement. "I'll ask you again," he said. "And this time, if you answer wrong—or anything other than the options I gave—I'll kill you right here."
Mark froze. A bead of sweat ran down his temple. "Uh… I think… butt," he muttered nervously. "I prefer girls with a nice butt."
Alden tilted his head, studying him like a judge passing verdict. "Natural?" he asked, his tone suddenly curious. There was a strange glint of approval in his eyes.
Mark, confused but too terrified to hesitate, replied quickly. "I don't mind, but I think natural is better."
For a second, Alden said nothing. Then his eyes watered, his lips trembled, and—without warning—he burst into tears. He looked up at the sky, weeping like a man who'd just been reunited with a long-lost brother.
Mark blinked, dumbfounded. Is he on drugs? he wondered.
Selena sighed loudly, crossing her arms. "Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath. "Surrounded by lunatics and no fights."
But Samael wasn't laughing. He stood apart, his expression dark and unreadable. His eyes scanned the tree-line as his senses reached outward. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
The three Grade-3 government knights emerged from the forest, their armor scratched, their breaths heavy. Samael could sense faint traces of the beast's necra [1]lingering around them, but something about it felt… off, hollow. The air itself seemed uneasy.
This is strange.... he thought. I haven't felt it's presence since we arrived. A grade 4 anomaly would give off quite a good amount of necra.
Then—everything stopped.
The world froze. The wind stilled mid-whisper. The soldiers, Alden, Selena—everyone—locked in place, unmoving.
Time itself had stopped.
Everyone, except Samael.
His breath caught. A chill gripped his spine as a familiar pressure filled the air—a suffocating, otherworldly presence that bent reality around it. The weight of necra was unmistakable.
An Abyssal Knight… here?
His hand snapped open, and a longsword shimmered into being. He turned sharply, scanning for his student—
—and then he saw it.
The three government knights' heads were severed, still suspended midair, blood frozen like red jewels in time.
And standing beside Mark… was a girl. No older than fourteen.
Mark couldn't utter a single word, as if his instincts are screaming that even blinking might earn him a grave.
Her eyes burned with an abyssal void. Her presence warped the space itself.
Samael's grip tightened around his sword. He said nothing, but his stance lowered, ready to strike.
"Do not take a step forward, filth," she said. Her voice was distorted, layered, but undeniably feminine. "The damage and risk will not be worth it. The only thing left for you… is to negotiate."
The girl turned her gaze to Mark. "Alex is very fond of you, true son of Adam," she said, her tone oddly amused. "But if I wanted to, I could end you now—and perhaps fix everything in the process."
She chuckled softly. "But no… perhaps more bloodshed isn't worth it. Not yet."
She raised her hand, and reality split like paper. A rift of black light tore open in the air beside her.
"I'll be seeing you soon," she said, stepping into the portal. Then, almost as an afterthought, she whispered, "…and you too, Lucerne."
The world snapped back.
Time resumed. The heads hit the ground with a sickening thud, blood splattering across the dirt.
Selena and Alden stumbled back, eyes wide with horror. Mark stood frozen, unable to form a single word.
The soldiers shouted in panic, raising their rifles. "Hands in the air!" one of them barked. "Now!"
Samael turned slowly, his eyes still hard. The soldiers' fear was understandable—but misplaced.
Selena's patience snapped. "HUH?! YOU WANT TO FIGHT US, YOU DOGS?! We were here to save your asses!"
Alden drew his spear with a grin. "If you really want to draw your guns," he said lightly, "then tell me which part of the world you'd like to visit. I'll make it quick."
"It's alright..." Samael said, raising a hand to calm them. His voice carried authority that silenced the forest. "If we were truly here to kill you," he said to the soldiers, "....you wouldn't stand a chance. Lower your weapons. Now."
The men exchanged uneasy glances. One by one, the barrels of their guns tilted down.
Samael's eyes softened slightly, though the tension still thrummed in his soul.
Alden sighed, twirling his spear once before resting it on his shoulder. "Ah, what a shame," he said with mock disappointment. "I was hoping to make them disappear as my magic trick."
Samael let out a slow breath, the tension around them still heavy like a storm waiting to break. The soldiers had finally lowered their weapons, but their eyes stayed wide and fearful, darting between the corpses of their knights and the group that had somehow survived.
"Caris," Samael said quietly.
"Yes, Master?" he asked, bowing his head slightly from distance.
"Teleport us back to the academy," he said. "....before this gets any worse."
Caris nodded once, lifting his hand. A pale circle of light unfurled beneath their feet, humming with aether[2]. Selena, Alden, and Mark gathered close, still shaken but obedient. A bright flash filled the place.
They were gone.
The remaining soldiers blinked in disbelief. The place, now filled only with silence, blood, and the soft creak of the forest around them.
Belvaria Government Headquarters — Central Command Office
The atmosphere inside was nothing like the chaos outside. The air here was cold, sterile, precise. Files lay stacked neatly on polished mahogany desks, while the low hum of monitors filled the background.
At the right side of the table sat Director Marvis Ruel, eyes narrowed at the holographic projection of the battlefield. Images flickered across the screen: "The hunt is complete" and then headless bodies of three Grade-3 knights, and then—static.
"Visual feed ends there," one of the analysts reported. "But the residual necra levels confirm a high-tier anomaly was present—possibly Class Abyssal."
Marvis leaned back, jaw tightening. "And the only surviving knight recorded at the scene… was Samael Lucerne and his students."
Silence blanketed the room.
"So," said a woman near the end of the table, "we're suspecting that Samael Lucerne is working with the other side?"
Marvis exhaled. "We have no choice. Three of our knights dead. An abyssal knight entered that place, there was no clash between them. No witnesses except his team. Until proven otherwise, Samael Lucerne is to be taken in for questioning—immediately."
The doors to the chamber hissed open.
Two men entered—both tall, their uniforms dark and heavy with insignias of the elite division. Their presence alone was enough to silence the room.
The man at the end of the table—President Thomas Velan of Belvaria—looked up from his desk and smiled faintly. The expression didn't reach his eyes.
"Ah," he said. "It's nice to have guardian knights of our own, isn't it, gentlemen?"
The taller of the two chuckled, his voice rough and amused. "So," he said, grinning as he adjusted the clasp on his black coat, "we're finally going after the Angel, huh?"
His companion smirked. "About time. Let's see if the rumors about him are true."
Velan folded his hands together, his tone soft but heavy with implication. "Bring him in… alive if possible. But if he resists—"
The room went still.
No one dared to finish the sentence aloud.
Velan's smile widened just enough to show teeth.
"—then make sure Belvaria's people sleep soundly ever after."
[1] The soul energy used by knights or resonants are called Aether. And just like the counterpart used by the death's children are called Necra.
[2] The soul energy used by knights or resonants are called Aether. And just like the counterpart used by the death's children are called Necra.