Morning sunlight spilled through the towering crystal windows of the academy's east wing, scattering golden light across the marble floor. The air smelled faintly of incense and polish — like the place had been cleaned a hundred times over just to impress the next generation of Spirit Masters.
Kael didn't care.
He was half-asleep, shirt half-buttoned, hair sticking up in every direction as Jorin dragged him by the collar down the polished hall.
"Come on, man!" Jorin snapped, exasperated. "You can't be late on your first day. People are already staring. You look like a corpse."
Kael yawned so wide it almost cracked his jaw. "Correction," he muttered, rubbing his face. "I am a corpse. Or close enough. You try surviving a trial where every five minutes someone's trying to eat you."
Jorin gave him a side-eye. "You're dramatic."
Kael shot him a sleepy glare. "They've got fountains here that pour spirit water?!. I spent three days drinking demon swamp juice."
"Stop whining," Jorin said, adjusting his uniform collar. "And try not to look like you crawled here through hellfire."
Kael smirked. "What you mean, dude? I did crawl through hellfire. Twice."
That got a few snickers from students nearby and some uneasy glances. Whispers started spreading like wildfire as they passed through the bustling east corridor.
"Is that him?""The one who made a contract with… it?""Yeah, the undead variant kid. The system glitch."
Kael's smile faltered slightly as the murmurs followed him. It wasn't new—people whispering, judging, wondering if he'd lost his humanity after the trials. Still, it burned a little every time.
Jorin noticed, giving a small, reassuring shove to Kael's shoulder. "Ignore them. You earned your place here."
"Yeah," Kael said, shrugging it off. "Let them stare. I'd stare too if I saw someone this good-looking in this world."
Jorin groaned. "You're insufferable."
Zaida, perched neatly on Kael's shoulder, blinked once —her expression as blank as a polished mask. Her tiny silver pupils shifted across the crowd, analyzing every passing face, every whisper.
One professor, an older man in silver robes, visibly flinched when her gaze passed over him. The faint glow of her aura shimmered like cold mist, a reminder that this "familiar" wasn't entirely alive either.
"Zaida," Kael said lazily, tilting his head toward her, "you're scaring the faculty again."
She didn't respond. Just kept staring ahead, still as stone.
"That's comforting," Jorin muttered under his breath.
Kael snorted. "She's got social anxiety."
Zaida slowly turned her head to face him. Her silver eyes narrowed by a fraction — enough to make Kael gulp.
"Right," he said quickly. "Or… she just started hating me."
Jorin laughed. "That I can believe."
As they rounded the corner, the morning bells began to chime across the academy grounds — a deep, resonant sound that echoed off the glass towers and stone spires. The courtyard outside shimmered with spirit fountains that flowed in spiraling streams of azure light. Students moved in well-organized groups, their uniforms pristine, their spirit beasts walking in perfect sync beside them.
Kael slowed, taking it all in. Compared to the chaos of the trials, this place looked like paradise.
Too perfect.
Everything gleamed—the floors, the walls, even the air. It didn't feel alive like the outside world. It felt… rehearsed.
"Jorin," he said softly, eyes scanning the students. "Don't you think it's weird how clean everything is?"
Jorin raised a brow. "It's an academy, not a demon pit."
"Exactly my point." Kael's tone turned dry. "If something looks this peaceful, it's usually hiding a corpse in the basement."
Zaida blinked once — slow and deliberate.
The first class passed surprisingly smoothly—no explosions, no spirit beasts clawing at his face, and only one minor magical mishap from a kid in the back row. Kael considered it a personal victory.
Now he and Jorin were trailing behind a cheerful third-year guide who bounced ahead of them like an overeager puppy. She wore a bright red sash marking her as a student liaison and carried a clipboard so packed with papers it looked ready to combust.
"Alright!" she chirped, turning on her heel and walking backwards as she spoke. "Quick reminders. No duels in dorm corridors. No summoning inside the dining hall. And definitely—absolutely—no forbidden contract experiments!"
Kael raised his hand like a bored schoolboy. "Define 'forbidden.'"
She blinked, then laughed nervously. "If you have to ask, it's probably forbidden."
Jorin smirked and elbowed Kael.
The academy itself gleamed like a fantasy palace: levitating crystal lamps floated along the vaulted ceilings, casting soft spirals of gold and blue light; statues of armored Spirit Masters lined the corridors and bowed slightly as students passed by. Even the marble floors pulsed faintly with Spirit energy, like a heartbeat.
Everything looked alive.Everything also felt… hollow.
Kael shoved his hands into his pockets, muttering, "All this wealth, and I'm still broke. Maybe I should retire early and live off tuition fees."
Jorin rolled his eyes. "You'd burn this place down before midterms."
Kael grinned. "Probably."
As they walked, Zaida suddenly stiffened on Kael's shoulder. Her tiny silver pupils fixed on a corridor lined with portraits—towering oil paintings of past Spirit Masters in full regalia.
Her voice came out duller than usual. "Their eyes… follow us."
Kael chuckled, brushing it off. "It's called painting technique, not haunting."
But when he glanced up again, one portrait's eyes did shift—just a fraction, just enough to send a prickling down his spine.
The faint hum of Spirit energy thrummed through the hallway like a whispered warning.
"See?" Zaida murmured. "They're watching."
Kael forced a grin. "Then let them. I look fantastic today."
Jorin side-eyed him. "You're pale and your collar's crooked."
"Exactly," Kael said. "It's a look."
Zaida said nothing else, but her stillness felt… off. Her usual sharpness had dulled, her expressions less animated—just subtle enough to make Kael's stomach twist.
----
The tour ended at the library, a massive building shaped like a spiraling conch shell, its windows glinting with embedded runes. Inside, students queued at a registration desk where magical quills scribbled on parchment without being touched.
Kael stood with Jorin in line, yawning.
"Longest line of my life," Jorin muttered.
"You've never been to a demon border ration queue," Kael replied.
That was when it happened.
A girl in a too-long robe came bustling down the aisle, arms full of books and papers stacked taller than her face. She tripped over the hem of her robe and crashed straight into Kael, sending parchment raining down like confetti.
"Ah! Spirits—I'm so sorry!" she squeaked, scrambling to gather her things. "I swear I'm not stalking you! I mean—I am a fan but not like the creepy kind—oh spirits, please let me die!"
Kael bent to help her, offering a hand. "You can't die here. The paperwork's awful."
Jorin snorted loudly.
Zaida watched from Kael's shoulder, expression unreadable—somewhere between disapproval and boredom.
The girl looked up at him with huge, starry eyes, her cheeks pink. She was chubby, bright-eyed, and practically glowing with nervous energy.
"I-I'm Mira!" she blurted. "I'm first year too! You're Kael Ardyn, right? Master of the Dead?"
Kael winced. "That's not an official rank, you know."
"It should be!" Mira said earnestly. "You survived the cursed trials!"
Kael groaned, rubbing his face. "Oh no, she's enthusiastic."
Jorin smirked. "Better than the people whispering you're a monster."
Mira fumbled in her bag, pulling out a small box wrapped in cloth. "Here! I made this myself. It's, um, a snack."
Kael peeked inside. The contents glowed faintly green.
Jorin took one look. "That's demon poison."
Kael popped it into his mouth anyway. "Respect her effort—" he said, muffled, before making a face like he'd swallowed fire. "—immediately regret it…"
Mira's eyes widened. "It's just spirit herb cake!"
Jorin thumped Kael on the back as he coughed, laughing. "You're going to die from kindness, not demons."
Zaida's silver eyes flicked between them all, and for a moment, Kael thought he saw her frown—not in annoyance, but in something almost like confusion.
After the chaotic "library incident" with Mira, Kael tried to shake her off politely — emphasis on tried.
She trailed behind him and Jorin as they explored deeper sections of the academy library, babbling about course modules and spirit affinity grades.
Jorin whispered, "She's following us."
Kael replied flatly, "She's too innocent to notice she's following us."
Zaida, perched silently on his shoulder, whispered, "She talks too much."
"Agreed," Kael muttered under his breath.
They finally reached the older sections of the library — far quieter and colder, with shelves that stretched like skeletal ribs into darkness. Dust drifted in the air like ash. The faint glow of warded runes pulsed along the floor, marking the boundary between public and restricted zones.
A sign carved in obsidian read:
ARCHIVE SECTOR VII Authorized Spirit Masters Only.
Naturally, Kael took that as an invitation.
Jorin grabbed his sleeve. "We're not authorized."
Kael smirked. "We weren't authorized to survive the trials either. Now come on...."
He glanced around — no librarians in sight — and slipped past the barrier rune. The air instantly changed: thicker, colder, almost humming with trapped energy. The shelves here were filled with cracked tomes bound in spirit hide and sealed with old sigils.
Zaida's eyes flickered faintly blue, reacting to the necrotic energy saturating the air. "This place remembers the dead."
Kael muttered, "Yeah, well, let's make it forget we were here."
He ran a finger along a dusty spine and paused when a faint glow answered his touch. The title, once obscured, flared into view:
"On Forbidden Spirit Contracts — Necromantic Variants."
His heart skipped.
"Necromantic…" he whispered. "That word again."
Jorin peered over his shoulder. "Sounds like a good way to get expelled."
Kael ignored him, pulling the book free. It was heavy, almost unnaturally so, and cold enough to bite his skin. He flipped through the brittle pages — diagrams of Spirit Seals interwoven with skeletal marks, notes on "soul rebirth protocols," and old names scratched out with black ink.
Zaida stared at the pages, her voice distant: "That script… I remember it."
Kael froze. "You… remember?"
But before he could press further, the entire shelf gave a low creak as though something behind it had moved. The candlelight guttered, and the faint hum of the warding sigils turned into a pulse.
Jorin hissed, "Kael, I think we should—"
"Go," Kael finished grimly. He shoved the book back, grabbed Zaida by the wrist, and slipped out of the barrier line just as the runes flared crimson.
When they stumbled back into the main library, Mira was waiting, arms full of even more books.
"Oh good, you're alive! You were gone for ages—I thought maybe the archives swallowed you!" she chirped.
Jorin wiped sweat from his brow. "It almost did."
Kael forced a grin. "Don't worry, Mira. I only touched one cursed manuscript."
Mira blinked. "Wait—you what?!"
Zaida said nothing, her gaze still lingering toward the restricted zone.
That night, as the dormitory lights dimmed, the academy's quiet perfection felt… wrong.
The marble halls no longer glowed softly — they breathed. The portraits they'd passed earlier now seemed to shift faintly whenever no one looked.
Kael lay awake, one arm folded behind his head, Zaida perched by the window again, eyes like dull silver mirrors reflecting the moonlight.
For the first time, she whispered: "We're being watched."
Kael turned his head slightly. "By who?"
Zaida didn't answer.
Outside, unseen through the window, a silhouette moved along the far courtyard balcony — a tall figure cloaked in shadow, face hidden beneath a hood. The faint gleam of Spirit markings pulsed across their hands as they trailed Kael's window with a slow, deliberate motion.
The moonlight flickered, and the shadow vanished.
Kael shivered suddenly, rolling onto his side. He didn't know why, but the air felt colder.
He muttered to himself, half-joking, "Nothing like a quiet night after almost getting cursed, right?"
Zaida didn't laugh this time.