The infirmary was a sanctuary of silence, smelling of dried mugwort, sharp ethanol, and the lingering sweetness of burnt sandalwood. Sunlight had long since retreated, leaving the room to the flickering whims of low-burning oil lamps. On a narrow cot, Aurelia's eyes snapped open. Her breath hitched, her lungs feeling as though they were filled with lead.
Reversal.
The word wasn't a thought; it was a vibration, a ghostly frequency humming against her skull. She felt the phantom sensation of her own blood flowing backward—a terrifying reconstruction of her very being. With a gasp, she bolted upright, her hands clutching the silk sheets.
"Patience, little bird," a voice whispered, cold as a mountain spring.
Nurse Yukihana stood by a small wooden basin, her movements fluid and unnervingly graceful. She wore a white nurse's apron over a pale blue kimono, but the air around her was several degrees colder than the rest of the room. She approached, her fingers glowing with a soft, frost-like pallor.
"You have faint bruises across your meridians," Yukihana murmured, pressing a cold cloth to Aurelia's forehead. "But it is the internal strain I worry for. Your fast movements—that desperate surge of Kishō—it nearly shredded your vessels. If you jolt like that again, the damage will become permanent."
Aurelia took a ragged breath, trying to calm the hammering in her chest. She looked at the nurse—really looked at her. The woman's skin was the color of fresh snow, and her eyes held a crystalline depth that no human could possess.
"Ok... ok," Aurelia exhaled, forcing her muscles to relax. "Wait... Nurse Yukihana, you're a Yokai, aren't you? A Yuki-onna?"
The nurse offered a cryptic smile, her breath visible as a faint mist even in the warmth of the room. "A Yuki-onna to be exact. Is my nature a problem for a royal of the Veloria Province? Or are you simply realizing why this room never needs a fire?"
Aurelia shook her head. "No, it's not that. I need to know... do you know of a technique called Reversal?"
The basin in Yukihana's hands clattered slightly as she set it down. Her playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a distant, haunted look. "Mmm... yes. I have heard that name. During the Shinzetsu era—the age of the True Severance—such things were whispered of in the dark. It was a common, though catastrophic, art."
"Then it's at least—"
"Seven hundred years, at the very least," Yukihana interrupted. Her gaze turned to the window, watching the snow start to fall in the courtyard. "If my memories are correct—and they are etched in ice, so they always are—it is an ancient relic of a time when gods and men traded blood like water. It isn't a spell; it's a correction of reality."
Aurelia's voice trembled. "Then how? How did he perform it? A student... a boy... how is that possible?"
Yukihana turned back, her eyes narrowing. "I do not know who this 'he' is, child. But if a man in this era managed to pull the strings of Reversal, then you are not dealing with a student. You are dealing with a man of gargantuan experience. A war general. A legend wearing a young man's skin. It took the original creators of the art decades of sacrifice just to manifest it. He would have to possess the soul of a sovereign to even attempt it without imploding."
"What does it actually do?" Aurelia pressed. "The mechanics of it... I felt my wounds vanish, but it felt like the world itself was being rewritten."
"Well, dear, if I'm to be specific, it's a very fast process. But 'Reversal' is a diluted name—a modern term for those who don't understand the old tongue. Back then, it was known as the 'Collapse of the Painted World.' You see, it doesn't just heal. It destroys 'painted' blood—anything that was spilled or altered by an outside force. It returns the canvas to its original state. It deletes the effect by erasing the cause."
Aurelia sat in stunned silence.
"What did you expect? An entire grimoire?" Yukihana laughed, the sound like tinkling icicles. "I am a nurse, not a historian. But I know power when I see its footprints. Whoever cured you... whoever this 'he' is... he isn't just strong. He is an anomaly. A ghost of a violent past."
"Thank you..." Aurelia said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her head spun, but the urgency in her gut was louder than the pain. "I must head out."
"Divine be with you, Aurelia of Veloria," the Yuki-onna said, bowing slightly.
"And to you."
Aurelia stepped out into the night. The Veloria Province was beautiful under the moon—a landscape of black-tiled roofs and glowing paper lanterns. She moved through the corridors of the academy annex, stopping to speak with the guards stationed at the ivory gates. Their reports were brief: Lyra had made a high-speed return to the Akatsuki Castle for "diplomatic adjustments," and Kai Akatsuki—the supposed weakling—was tucked away in his dorm.
Aurelia made her way to the royal suite reserved for her visits. The room was grand, with heavy velvet curtains meeting sliding wood panels. She entered, intending to change into her night garments, but stopped dead.
Lyra was there. She was perched on the edge of a mahogany desk, illuminated by a single, flickering gas lamp. She was reading a scroll, her eyes sharp and predatory.
"We need to talk," Lyra said, not looking up.
"I was told you were at the Akatsuki Castle," Aurelia said, crossing her arms. "This is the Veloria province."
"And I can move faster than the speed of regular humans, so..." Lyra looked up, her gaze piercing. "Distance is a suggestion, not a rule."
"Fine. So what's your issue?"
"My suit failed to sense Lord Umbra completely," Lyra hissed, slamming the scroll down. "And yet... the traces were there. He is in this school, Aurelia. I can feel him. We are close, and yet we are incredibly far. I bet he's already fifteen steps ahead of us. We need to plan on how to beat a man who is a master tactician at his own game."
While the women plotted, the air on the rooftop of the main dormitory was thin and biting. Kai stood at the edge of the curved roof, his dark hair whipped by the wind. Behind him, two figures loomed.
Slythe, her eyes sharp behind thin-rimmed spectacles, reached out and yanked Kai's ear with a frustrated sigh. "Sovereign! We told you: no excessive force! That will result in you being tracked. Do you have any idea how much data you've just handed Lyra on a silver platter?"
"Ow... sorry, sorry," Kai muttered, though his voice lacked any real contrition.
Renaria stood a few paces back, her posture rigid and imposing. She held her naginata with a casual but terrifying readiness, her scarf billowing in the wind. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, cold and unblinking, like a predator waiting for the slightest movement.
"Sorry doesn't cut it," Renaria said, her voice a low, flat monotone. "Lyra's latest uniform... its main purpose is to track you. I doubt she'll show her own brother any mercy if she finds out he is her nemesis. If she comes for you, I will have to kill her. Do not make me do that."
Slythe released his ear and sighed, adjusted her glasses. "Good news is that your body naturally suppresses its Kishō, so thank the Divine for that. But now they have a trace and a lead that Lord Umbra is definitely in this school. So, I'm not going to provide any more strategic support until you tell me: what is your plan?"
Kai looked out over the flickering lights of the province. "My plan? Oh, there is no plan."
"What!?" Slythe snapped, her intellectual patience reaching its limit. "No plan equals no success! What are you going to do then, huh?"
"My Kishō so far is below a Kō-shi rank," Kai said calmly. "Even if they suspected me, they would need to somehow drain my entire Kishō to prove it. They just know me as the weakest prince. Why would a legend hide in a failure?"
Renaria shifted her naginata, the blade gleaming in the moonlight. "This is why the Umbra Crown has people like us. We are slightly older, slightly more visible. But he is right, Slythe. Right now, he is considered too weak to even fight a regular soldier."
"Your're good at playing weak," Slythe grumbled, though her analytical mind accepted the logic. "Now, we must go." She vanished first, a blur of shadow and intellect.
Renaria looked at Kai for a lingering second, her expression as unreadable as stone. "I'm going to my room... you know where to find me." She faded away into the darkness.
Kai began his walk back, his senses expanded. He felt Aurelia and Lyra's presence nearby. I have to lay low for a while, he thought, slipping into his room.
As the academy slept, the Hellish Domain pulsed with a malevolent, neon-red light. Valena walked through the Blood Forest, the ground beneath her feet made of calcified bone and crimson mud.
In the center of a clearing, sitting atop a throne made of twisted, obsidian vines, was Nyaxara.
The Goddess looked bored. She was spinning a small, glowing orb of soul-energy on her fingertip, her legs kicked over the arm of the throne. She looked like a teenager playing with a toy, despite the fact that her mere presence was enough to liquefy the internal organs of a lesser being.
"Ok, Blood Forest... ok?" Valena said, approaching.
"Blood Forest! Yep! So that's what you did?" Valena asked.
Nyaxara let out a melodic, terrifyingly cheerful laugh. She hopped off her throne and floated toward Valena, her eyes covered by a blindfold of pure shadow, yet she "looked" right through her. "All I did, darling, was deceive every little mortal being into creating a survival tournament! They were so eager to kill each other. It was adorable! But then... well, you saw it. That 'Reversal' stuff. They regained their boring little sanities and ended my games."
Nyaxara pouted, the expression looking ridiculous on a being of her power. "They broke my toy, Valena. I don't like it when people break my toys."
"That's cool anyway," Valena said, her eyes gleaming. "I need this tournament of yours for a brilliant idea."
Nyaxara stopped floating and landed with a playful skip. She tilted her head, a wide, predatory grin spreading across her face. "Speak! I'm all ears! Unless I decide to take yours!"
"Your tournament was just a forest," Valena said, pacing. "What if we made it kingdom-wide? Our Kingdom is larger than any other—basically bigger than the ten Kingdoms . If we get random people, school participants, and all those who want to join... we create a meat grinder. Either we find out the strongest is Lord Umbra, or Lord Umbra himself will try to stop the games. He's a 'hero' at heart, isn't he?"
Nyaxara's grin widened until it was almost too large for her face. She appeared in front of Valena in a blur, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "That's... remarkably accurate. He is a bit of a savior, isn't he? How annoying!" She giggled, a sound that echoed like glass shattering. "However... even the weakest can be Lord Umbra, don't you think? He might just be hiding, shivering in a corner!"
Valena blinked. "Uhh..."
Nyaxara sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up. "Here!" She reached into thin air and pulled out a letter sealed with black wax that seemed to pulse like a heartbeat. "This contains a modified, Kingdom-level version of the Blood Forest. I've adjusted the rules. The odds of surviving? Impossible. The chances of finding Lord Umbra? Perfect!"
She shoved the letter into Valena's hands. "Make sure to inform Karehana and Kuramori of this. I want them to enjoy slaughtering some people. It's been so long since they've had a proper harvest!"
"I'll be sure to. And Managan?"
"Him too!" Nyaxara chirped, spinning in a circle. "We need to lure the Umbra Crown and this Mugen-armaments together. After they defeat Managan—if they can—they'll fight each other. It'll be a bloodbath! Don't worry about the aftermath." She stretched her arms, her joints popping like gunfire. "I've got that part covered. It's going to be the best game ever!"
"Ok," Valena said, clutching the letter.
Nyaxara's voice suddenly dropped, the playfulness vanishing into a void of pure, divine cold that made the Blood Forest go silent. "Now... begone."
Instantly, Valena was back in her room. She sat on her bed, the black letter heavy in her hand. She stared at it for a moment, then began to laugh—a low, seductive chuckle as she bit her lip.
"Not only is this survival... this changes the very thought of surviving," she whispered. "No way can Lord Umbra resist this. Anyway, a fallen god like me needs her beauty sleep."
Deep in the night, Kai was no longer in his bed.
He moved like a smudge of ink across the rooftops of a distant province, his Tachi strapped to his back. He was performing surveillance, his eyes locked on a black carriage moving toward the restricted district.
He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. As he crouched on the roof, ready to jump, a soft "thud" landed behind him.
"Aha! My instincts never lie..."
Kai froze.
"You are the shadow Sovereign, aren't you... Kai Akatsuki?"
Ma'am Neko stood there, her eyes glowing with a predatory yellow light. She adjusted her glasses, her smile wide and dangerous.
Kai didn't say a word. His expression turned to stone. He could smell it now—the iron-thick scent of blood coming from that carriage. He unsheathed his blade, the steel shimmering under the moonlight.
End of Chapter