The arena still echoed with laughter. Mocking. Dismissive. Cruel.
But Rai stood at the center of it all—not with a frown, nor with a shred of shame. No tears. No slump in posture.
Just… a smile.
He remembered nothing.
Not the golden thrones.
Not the blinding lightning.
Not even the forgotten chamber or the book sealed away in shadow.
And yet—he smiled.
Because while the memories were gone, the feeling remained.
That overwhelming surge of authority.
Of command.
Of something far greater than himself—something that reminded him of why he was here in the first place.
Elmag.
Even in apparent failure, Rai looked like someone waking from a beautiful dream. The taunts and jeers didn't touch him. The shame others expected simply never arrived.
Kromus stared from the stands, a faint crease on his brow. He felt it. Something had happened. But what? Even he couldn't put a finger on it—and that disturbed him more than anything.
Down by the summoning platform, Gale walked up to Rai and casually threw an arm around his shoulder.
"Dude, you failed spectacularly," he said with a chuckle, tone light, friendly. "Why are you smiling like that?"
Across the arena, those closest to Rai—all in their own corners—paused to hear his reply.
Baruss watched with furrowed brows, something unreadable in his gaze.
Rose, arms crossed, narrowed her eyes in silent appraisal.
Arietta and Aromas stood still as stone, separated but subtly tuned in.
The rest of the class, exhausted from laughter, slowly quieted.
Rai turned to Gale, smile unfazed.
"It didn't feel like I failed, man."
His voice wasn't arrogant. It wasn't stubborn denial.
It was genuine. Calm. Certain.
Rose scoffed under her breath.
"What the hell will it take to break this fool's spirit?"
Yet even as she thought it, a flicker of admiration burned behind her eyes.
Because Rai hadn't just endured humiliation.
He'd transcended it.
Baruss, however, wasn't laughing. He wasn't even slightly amused by Rai's answer. His brows furrowed, a storm quietly brewing behind his sharp eyes.
"If not this... then something else. You're going to break eventually, Rai," he thought—not with malice, but with genuine concern.
A memory flashed before his eyes—
A younger Baruss, knees scraped, fists clenched in frustration as he knelt on the ground, having failed yet again. His father's footsteps echoed as he turned his back and walked away, saying nothing. That silence had haunted him ever since.
Baruss stepped forward, halting Rai in his tracks.
His voice wasn't loud, but there was a crackle of rawness to it. "Drop the façade, Rai. You're not fooling me."
"Every time you fail, you smile—but I know the truth. I know the pain beneath that grin. So tell me… why hide it?"
For a moment, silence. Then Rai looked up, that same unshakable, enigmatic smile still on his face. He placed a hand on Baruss's shoulder and spoke with a calm that seemed out of place for someone so young.
"A man who fears pain more than failure…"
"…will taste both."
Baruss froze. Those words sank deep—words he had never considered. All his life, he had feared the pain that followed failure… and that fear had ensured he never truly tried to rise above it.
Around them, Rose, Gale, Kromus, even the usually unreadable Arietta and Aromas—were stunned. Rai's words didn't just carry weight… they carried wisdom. And for someone like him—someone who seemed to float through life with foolish bravado—those words struck harder than steel.
He shouldn't possess that kind of insight.
And yet… he did.
Rai straightened up, a sudden seriousness in his eyes.
"There's one more very important thing," he said, his tone low and resolute.
The shift in atmosphere was immediate. Even the breeze seemed to pause. Everyone turned their full attention toward him—curious, intrigued, maybe even a little reverent.
"This… this is what keeps me going through every rough patch in life," Rai continued, voice steady, as if about to impart the wisdom of a thousand sages.
"It's the secret. And I'm going to let you in on it."
Baruss swallowed hard. Rose arched a brow. Arietta narrowed her eyes. Even Gale leaned in, sensing something oddly profound coming.
A beat passed.
Then—
"It's the meat," Rai declared, pointing dramatically to the sky, like he'd just uncovered the truth of the universe.
The silence that followed was broken only by the soft thud of Gale's palm meeting his face.
Then, without hesitation, Gale turned and launched Rai with a heroic side-kick straight into the wall.
"WHY do I even hope anymore?!" Gale groaned.
Around them, the group collectively sighed and shook their heads in mock shame.
Kromus muttered under his breath, "Every time…"
Rose pinched the bridge of her nose, "We were this close to character development."
Baruss stood frozen, somewhere between awe and complete betrayal.
Even Arietta blinked. Aromas coughed once into his hand, possibly laughing.
And Rai? He slid down the wall with a grin on his face, thumbs up and slightly dazed.
"Worth it."
As the laughter faded and the chaos settled, Kromus stepped forward, his voice calm but commanding.
"Alright, students. Let's get back to the lesson."
He raised a single hand. A flurry of frost swept across the arena floor—graceful, precise—and in seconds, sleek chairs of sculpted ice shimmered into existence, arranged in a perfect arc around him.
"Be seated," he said, already turning to the glowing remnants of the summoning circle. "It's time you understand the mechanics behind summoning."
Kromus stood tall before the class, his arms folded as the cold wind swirled lazily around him. Beside him, the massive form of Glaceryon the Frostborn Leviathan loomed like a frozen monument—coiled, yet coiled with purpose. The crystalline plates on his body shimmered with an otherworldly blue, refracting the late-morning sun into dancing lights on the arena floor.
The students—all seated on their summoned beasts or by their side—watched in a silence thick with awe and caution. Some still cast uncertain glances at Glaceryon, especially the younger ones whose own summons resembled far tamer things.
"Now then," Kromus began, pacing slightly, his breath fogging in the cold air. "Let's continue."
With a snap of his fingers, ice-formed chairs spiraled up from the stone beneath each student. The frost crackled as it shaped itself, forming comfortable high-backed seats that glittered with mana lines.
"Be seated," he said coolly. "And allow me to explain the true mechanics behind summoning."
The class obeyed, with some grumbling from the cockier ones in the back. Rai, still standing, looked around before plopping into his chair with a carefree grin, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder like a champ. Gale side-eyed him with a smirk.
"The beasts you summon do not come from our world," Kromus said, his voice firm now. "They come from realms ancient and distant—places not bound by our laws of time, space, or mortality. These are creatures of myth, forged by a being older than history itself."
That got their attention.
Rose blinked, narrowing her eyes.
"Born before time? Sounds like a myth made to scare toddlers..."
Yet even she leaned forward slightly, curious despite herself.
Baruss furrowed his brow.
"What kind of realm gives birth to something like that leviathan? It feels... wrong."
Aromas and Arietta, as always, were silent, but their eyes were locked onto Kromus—Aromas unusually focused, and Arietta with a subtle frown of intellectual intrigue.
"And how do I know this?" Kromus continued, gesturing to the massive form beside him.
"Because of my bond with Glaceryon. As your connection with your summon deepens, so too does your understanding of them. Eventually, they will even begin to communicate in your language."
Murmurs rippled through the class.
"Glaceryon?" Kromus said, looking up at the beast.
The leviathan raised his head with a slow, icy motion, eyes glowing like frozen suns. The entire arena chilled by a few degrees as his breath escaped in a low, frosty exhale.
And then—he spoke.
"Greetings, children," came the deep, rumbling voice, as if carved from glaciers. "I am Glaceryon the Frostborn Leviathan. I dislike speaking... so I will now return to my waking rest. Should you disturb me again, I shall eat you."
Silence. Awkward, dead silence.
Then—
"Wha... was that a joke?" someone near the back muttered.
Gale blinked. "Man's got dad joke energy from a frozen death god. I kinda respect it."
Rai? He was smiling, wide-eyed. "He's so cool..." he whispered, starry-eyed like he'd just seen a celebrity.
Kromus chuckled dryly. "That's his way of saying he'll be napping now. Don't worry—he's never actually eaten a student."
"...That we know of," Gale muttered under his breath.
The tension broke, students exchanging uneasy laughs or eyeing their own summons for signs of similar attitude.
"As you can see," Kromus said, "a strong bond brings more than power—it brings understanding. And that understanding is key to mastering the summoning arts."
He looked to the rest of the class now, more serious.
"There are two ways a summon leaves this realm. One—if it takes too much damage. They are forcibly pulled back to their realm to recover. That much is natural, instinctive. The second way—"
He raised his palm.
"—is through you. Channel your prana into your hand, place it against their forehead, and they will return. It's a bond of mutual respect."
Several students began testing the motion already—some confident, some awkward.
Rose rolled her eyes.
"Basic technique... but the depth behind it—that's new."
Baruss, meanwhile, stared at Glaceryon again. His thoughts darkened.
"A being like that serves Kromus?"
Even now, all the other summons stood clearly beside their masters. Glaceryon, massive and unmistakable, hadn't disappeared even for a moment. And neither had the others.
And yet... there was one thought that everyone had forgotten thanks to that flashing light that distorted their memory
Whatever Rai had summoned—
—was nowhere to be seen.
Or perhaps...
...they were just watching.
From somewhere beyond their perception.
Still here.
Still waiting.
Kromus clapped his hands, the sharp sound echoing through the great hall of the summoning arena. His voice rang out, clear and commanding.
"Alright students, time to head back to your dorms—class is over. But before you go…" he paused, his tone becoming a touch more casual, "…it's time to send your summons back. You're not quite ready to care for them yet, so come on, chop chop."
A collective groan rose from the students. Some looked heartbroken, others tried to act indifferent—but none of them moved right away. The bonds, brief as they were, had already begun to form.
Kromus raised a brow, amused by their hesitation. "You'll see them again. That is… if you're strong enough."
With heavy hearts, the students stepped forward one by one, placing their hands on their summons' foreheads and channelling their Prana. A soft glow marked each parting.
Rose stood tall and regal as always, her hand gently resting atop the head of her summon—The Blazing Fawn. The creature shimmered with radiant heat, exuding the same prideful energy as its summoner.
She whispered, "Return with your glory intact." The fawn gave a nod, its eyes gleaming with shared superiority, before vanishing in a flicker of flame and light. Rose crossed her arms, head held high—but deep in her chest, she felt a subtle, unfamiliar tug.
"Tch. Ridiculous. I'm not getting sentimental over a spirit beast," she told herself.
Gale stepped forward next, standing in front of his ghostly companion—The Silent Tempest. The creature barely moved, a towering bird of wind and shimmer, his wings stirring the air with silent grace.
Gale placed a hand on his ethereal chest. A shimmer, a breeze—and then nothing. The sky seemed a little emptier.
Baruss stood silently in front of his storm-forged summon—The Tempest Warrior. The entity towered over him, thunderclouds roiling across his form. Without a word, Baruss lifted his hand.
The warrior suddenly knelt down and hugged him—a swirling cyclone of arms, mist, and sparks enveloping the boy.
Baruss's eyes widened. "W-What are you doing—hey! Hey! Let go!"
The warrior gave one last, crushing squeeze before finally fading into the wind.
Baruss stood frozen, fists clenched, his cheeks tinged red.
"Embarrassing... right in front of everyone..."
All around, similar moments unfolded. Some students were teary-eyed, others offered awkward fist bumps or nods of gratitude to their companions. The arena filled with flashes of light and fading magical sigils as one by one, the beasts returned to their realm.
Until only the students remained.
And Kromus.
And Glaceryon.
The towering Frostborn Leviathan loomed quietly beside his master, a massive wall of coiled ice, mist, and ancient breath. He hadn't moved once the entire time, his presence casting a chill that danced through the arena like whispers of winter.
Rai stood quietly amidst the thinning crowd, watching as all the creatures disappeared—but his eyes flickered with confusion.
Why… do I feel like something's still here?
He didn't know. He didn't remember. But somewhere—deep inside—something trembled.
And Kromus… though his voice remained light as he waved the students off, a sliver of thought gnawed at his mind.
"Every summon has returned… and yet… this feeling remains. That boy…"
His eyes shifted briefly to Rai.
"…Did he really fail his summoning?"
And so the day came to a close.
With a wave of Kromus's hand and a soft murmur of command, the class dispersed—students slowly filtering out of the arena, some still wiping their eyes from the emotional farewells to their summons, others buzzing with excitement and quiet conversation.
Rai walked among them, cheerful as ever, unaware of what his presence had stirred.
Kromus lingered at the edge of the circle, his eyes scanning the now-empty summoning ground one last time. He couldn't shake the feeling—like a hum in his bones, a breath against the skin. Something had happened. Something he wasn't meant to see.
He turned toward Glaceryon.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" he asked, voice low.
The Frostborn Leviathan simply blinked, his frozen eyes shining with distant knowledge. Then, without another word, he lowered his head and faded into silver mist—returning to the Realm of Arcallia with a whisper of winter wind. Finally Kromus too had taking his leave.
And the arena was empty.
Or so it seemed.
The silence deepened.
The torches along the stone walls flickered unnaturally. A sudden chill swept through the chamber—not from Kromus's lingering presence, but something older, deeper.
From the darkest edges of the arena, five silhouettes emerged, shadows draped in veils of arcane energy. Each figure's eyes burned with ancient light—not with menace, but reverence, the kind of power that bore the weight of millennia. Their very presence twisted the air, like time folding inward.
They spoke in unison, not aloud but in the language of memory—a tongue long forgotten by the world but etched into the roots of existence.
"It seems," said the first figure, his voice like echoing bells, "it is not yet time for him to remember us."
The second, tall and regal, stepped forward, his ethereal form shimmering like morning light.
"Yes… but even so, his heart remembers. His body remembers. If not—how else could we be here?"
They all turned, glancing at the faint magical imprint still lingering on the ground where Rai had stood. Their eyes softened—not with pity, but pride.
"He is our king," murmured the third, a cloaked figure with wings of light folded behind him. "Even sealed away, even stripped of truth, his soul still called to us. His subconscious reached out."
The fourth—smaller in stature but emanating intense, wild magic—let out a low hum of agreement.
"He summoned us… without knowing. That alone proves his will is awakening."
And finally, the fifth stepped forward—taller than the rest, bearing a crown of glowing fire, his voice filled the chamber not with sound, but gravity.
"You are right. The time draws near."
His gaze fell upon the ground with the weight of centuries.
"When his memory returns… the spell that binds his past will break. And when it does—" his eyes blazed with celestial light—
"—we shall be restored to our rightful thrones. And the world will remember the Kings of Arcallia once more."
As their forms began to fade into the ether, their presence lingered in the air, like the memory of a storm before it breaks. The arena returned to stillness.
But the magic that had stirred… had already begun to ripple across the unseen threads of fate.