The academy felt different now.
Students who used to ignore Yuuji now whispered when he passed. Some bowed politely. Others stared with equal parts fear and fascination.
The Trial had made him famous.
But fame came with weight.
Yuuji walked through the upper library floor, flanked by silence. Clara had given him space today—research duty. Mira was off on her usual "I'm not jealous" patrol. Ayaka... probably wrestling a tree again.
He didn't mind the quiet.
But someone was watching him.
Not just glancing. Watching.
He stopped at the edge of a long bookshelf, eyes scanning the spines—until a voice broke the silence behind him.
"You hold your breath when you're thinking. Did you know that?"
Yuuji turned slowly.
She sat cross-legged on the window ledge. Sunlight poured around her, catching the copper tones in her long red hair. Her uniform was technically regulation—but barely. White shirt too tight. Skirt far too short. Stockings loose around one thigh like it was intentional.
"Name's Lenya," she said, voice smooth, almost purring. "First year. Transfer. And apparently... I'm very curious."
Yuuji raised an eyebrow. "About?"
She winked.
"You. Obviously."
He didn't answer.
Lenya slid down from the window ledge and walked slowly toward him, swaying in a way that absolutely wasn't necessary for walking.
"Rumor is you're the King who won a shadow trial. That you broke a mask with two fingers and walked away with your team untouched."
"Rumors exaggerate."
"Do they?" She leaned forward, lips almost touching his ear. "Or do they hide the truth beneath the noise?"
Yuuji didn't react, but his mind was working.
She wasn't just flirting.
She was testing him.
And maybe more.
"You're not just a student," he said flatly.
Lenya smiled. "Didn't say I was."
She slipped a sealed envelope into his jacket pocket and backed away, her expression unreadable.
"If you want answers... come to the east garden tonight. Come alone. And maybe..."
She licked her lower lip, slowly.
"...bring a little danger."
She turned and walked away, hips swaying.
Yuuji sighed.
So many games.
So little time.
The east garden was quiet.
Too quiet.
Yuuji walked past trimmed hedges and ancient statues, the moonlight painting silver lines across the stone paths. The air smelled like roses and something faintly metallic—like blood left too long in the cold.
He was alone. No team. No magic armor. Just a coat, a dagger hidden in his belt, and a mind sharpened by instinct.
The garden's central fountain shimmered under the moon. Lenya was already there, sitting on the marble edge with her legs crossed and a single red rose in her hand.
"You actually came," she said without looking up. "I wasn't sure you would."
Yuuji stopped a few steps away. "You're alone."
"So are you." She smiled and finally looked up.
Her expression wasn't flirtatious this time. It was serious.
"We don't have much time."
Yuuji raised an eyebrow. "That's not how seductive secrets usually start."
Lenya stood slowly. "I'm not here to seduce you, Yuuji. I'm here to warn you."
He said nothing.
She walked closer, until they were almost face to face.
"Someone is leaking your movements. Your Trial data. Your spell signatures. Someone inside the Academy."
His eyes narrowed. "You're sure?"
She nodded. "I intercepted a coded pulse two days ago. Routed through a rogue crystal matrix. Someone tried to send your combat profile to an off-world relay."
Yuuji's voice dropped. "Who?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she pressed the rose into his hand.
It burned for a second—just enough to make him flinch.
Etched into one of the petals was a crest. A spider web over a tower.
"Do you know what that means?" she asked.
Yuuji did.
House Delmira.
A noble line that had officially gone extinct during the last war.
"Impossible," he muttered.
Lenya looked around. Her voice dropped.
"They're not extinct. They're hiding. Watching. And someone here is working with them."
Yuuji glanced at the rose again. The petals were fading. Magic decay. Proof gone in minutes.
"I came to test you," she said softly. "But now I think we're both in the same mess."
She touched his shoulder briefly. "Watch your back, King. This board has more pieces than even you can see."
She vanished between the trees.
Yuuji looked down at the rose one last time before it turned to ash in his hand.
More enemies.
More players.
And no one playing fair.
By the time Yuuji returned to House Checkmate, dawn had just begun to bleed into the horizon.
He entered the main hall in silence. The place was quiet, but not empty.
Mira was sitting alone at the dining table, a half-eaten apple in one hand and a crumpled letter in the other.
She didn't look up when he entered.
He froze when he saw the symbol on the back of the parchment.
The same spiderweb crest burned into Lenya's rose.
"Where did you get that?" Yuuji asked.
Mira's voice was flat.
"It was pinned to my door."
She turned the paper over and pushed it across the table.
Yuuji picked it up and read the message:
"Knights who forget their oath are the easiest to break."
"Careful, Valentina. Loyalty can be a weapon. And a weakness."
Mira's jaw clenched, but her eyes were cold.
"I'm not afraid of cowards with ink and threats."
Yuuji sat down beside her.
"They're trying to divide us. Pick us off."
"Let them try," she said quietly. "They won't get far."
But Yuuji could see it—just beneath the surface.
Not fear.
Anger.
And something deeper. A wound that hadn't been there yesterday.
Clara entered moments later, holding a crystal tablet.
"They've hacked one of the dueling archives," she said without preamble. "Pulled old records. Mostly Mira's."
Mira looked at her. "Why mine?"
"Because you're his knight," Clara said simply. "And because you'd bleed for him."
Yuuji looked between them.
He knew now.
The enemy wasn't just coming for him.
They were coming for everything around him.
Yuuji stood alone on the balcony of House Checkmate. The rising sun cast long shadows across the Academy grounds, cutting golden lines through the haze.
He hadn't slept.
Not because he couldn't.
But because the game had changed again.
Spiders in the walls. Ghost houses. Trials evolving into full-blown war. And now they were targeting Mira—his knight. His frontline. His... anchor.
He didn't like people messing with his pieces.
A soft chime pulsed behind him. Clara's voice came through his private channel.
"Secure line established. Saki is listening."
Yuuji turned his gaze toward the forest edge and spoke calmly.
"Operation Eclipse is active. Proceed with the fake leak."
A pause. Then Saki's voice, crisp and confident, filtered in.
"Took you long enough. I was starting to think you'd play reactive forever."
"This isn't reactive," Yuuji said. "It's misdirection."
He turned from the balcony and walked toward the war board in his room.
"Clara, do we have confirmation on the message trace?"
"Yes," she replied instantly. "The letter to Mira didn't come through the Academy system. It was delivered physically. No teleportation. No spellprint. Hand-delivered... by someone on campus."
"So we have a mole," Yuuji said. "Possibly more."
Ayaka burst through the door mid-sentence, hair wet and wild, a slice of toast hanging from her mouth. "Morning, nerds. Why do I feel like we're planning a coup?"
"Because we are," Clara answered.
Yuuji didn't smile.
Instead, he pointed to a marked corner of the board—
a side hallway rarely used during class hours.
"Clara. Set the dummy route through there. Saki's agents will 'accidentally' intercept a false schedule claiming I'll attend a private duel assessment in the east hall."
"You want them to attack you?"
"No," he said.
"I want them to think they did."
He placed a small black pawn onto the board.
"And while they're celebrating..."
He moved a rook silently from the edge into the center.
"...we'll be inside their system."
Mira entered quietly behind them, now armored and silent, no trace of last night's emotion in her face.
She said only one word:
"When?"
Yuuji looked at her.
"Tonight."
They were done waiting.
Now, they were hunting.
Far below the Academy, in the secret halls beneath the Trial Board, Arletta stood alone before a grand mirror carved into obsidian.
The image inside rippled.
The figure she spoke to was shrouded. Blurred.
But when Arletta smiled, it was the kind of smile that knew far more than it showed.
"He's making his move," she said.
The shadow-voice replied:
"Good."
And then...
"Let him try."
The mirror turned black.
And somewhere in the distance, a knight who had long since fallen to darkness opened his eyes again.