Leo collapsed on the riverbank, water dripping from his hair, clothes clinging to his skin. His body trembled, exhausted, every muscle screaming from the night's terror.
He tried to sit up, but dizziness pulled him back down. Blood—his own, drained, tainted with pain—coated his hands. He swallowed hard, chest heaving. I… I survived.
The forest was quiet. Too quiet. Every rustle of leaves made him flinch. Every shadow seemed alive, watching, waiting. He couldn't shake the feeling of unseen eyes calculating his every move.
Slowly, Leo dragged himself to higher ground. His mind replayed the events: the madman, the ritual, the wolf, the vampires. The hunger, the pain, the cold river… He shivered violently.
Something in me… it's changing, he thought, feeling the strange warmth pulsing in his veins. His Asura bloodline stirred, ancient and fierce. And beneath it, something else—something new, unknown.
Hours passed before he dared to move. When he finally returned to the academy, dawn had already begun painting the sky with muted golds and pinks. He slipped quietly into the dormitory, soaked, bruised, and trembling.
For now, no one knew what had happened. But Leo understood: the night had changed him forever.