Chapter 51 – The City Beneath the Moon
Part 2: The Newblood in Velvet and Silence
The first thing Ariz noticed as he entered the Inner Crescent of the Academy was how loud power could be when it tried to look casual.
Everywhere, elites trained. Some bled for sport. Some studied spells that glowed with runes older than kings. Others lounged in silk and shadow, drinking blood-wine or watching gladiator duels from balconies above.
The Crescent wasn't just a school district.
It was a throne district.
And Ariz stood in the middle of it—cloaked in torn fabric, his boots scuffed from the trial grounds, his expression unreadable.
He could feel the stares.
Not mockery.
Not laughter.
Just curiosity from predators who didn't recognize him yet.
[System: Image Analysis – Status: Undermatched]
"Appearance unsuitable for Academy elite zone.Suggest: Wardrobe Update – High Rank Formal Required."
He entered the nearest outfitter without a word.
The tailor inside was a four-eyed beastkin with clawed fingers and thread that shimmered like smoke.
She stopped what she was doing when she saw him.
Paused.
Then bowed—not deeply, but enough.
"You're the Umbrakin."
"I need something that fits this place," Ariz said.
"You need something that will remind this place it isn't worthy of you," she corrected.
She returned twenty minutes later with attire fit for a curse dressed as a prince:
A high-collared, obsidian black tunic woven with subtle armor-thread
Gold embellishments in crescent patterns along the cuffs and chest
A cloak made of nightwolf fur, its interior lined with crushed shadow silk
Leather belts, vambraces, and rings—each enchanted to reject holy detection
And boots made of polished dusk-leather, silent even on stone
When Ariz stepped from the fitting mirror, the shop fell silent.
He looked like something carved from a forgotten legend:
Too beautiful to be real.Too quiet to be safe.
[System Log Updated: Appearance – Registered]➤ Status: Academy-Calibrated➤ Threat Deterrence: Passive Effect +20%
"Now they'll stop watching you like a curiosity.And start watching you like a warning."
He left without asking the price.
The tailor didn't stop him.
She just smiled and whispered, "Burn bright, Shadowborn."
The classroom was built into the mountain—walls carved from bloodstone, with windows that looked out into the eternal night. Desks weren't wood—they were obsidian slabs floating in runic arrays, and each seat was assigned by blood rank.
Ariz entered late.
He didn't care.
The room paused as he walked in.
Every student turned.
Some tensed.
One—tall, silver-haired, eyes like frost and fire—smiled.
The instructor, a gaunt figure with horns and a voice like broken parchment, didn't speak. He just raised one bony finger.
Ariz took the empty seat at the highest tier.
Not because it was free.
Because it was waiting.
[System Alert: Academy Curriculum Syncing…]
✔ Sword Theory: Intermediate✔ Shadow Magic Application: Advanced✔ Umbrakin Bloodline History – LOCKED (Only living student)
"You're not a student.You're a warning label with legs."
The lecture began.
And for the first time in years, Ariz didn't need to kill to feel power growing.
Now he could learn to refine it.